#he let tamlin lock feyre up

[muraqiba]

The way that Lucien was antagonized along with Tamlin wasn't fair. The boy did nothing wrong, ever. He's the purest character. You can't change my mind.

ALSO

remember in acotar how Lucein was witty and shameless and threw quips left right and centre?? I can't forgive sjm for taking that away from his character in the later books.

AND ALSO

He is given 0 credit for helping Feyre under the mountain, when he did all that he could. When he kept helping her even after he was punished for it. It bothered me so much when Feyre reflects on the second task and only has nightmares about her getting crushed by the spikes and doesn't acknowledge concern for Lucien who was in the same boat?? Was there no love or care for him??? I love Feyre but she doesn't give Lucien the credit he deserves.

#he let tamlin lock feyre up #no #he kept arguing about it with Tamlin and fighting for her #and keep in mind that Tamlin is the closest person in the world to lucien #he took him in when his family hurt him inexplicably #lucein was trying to save their relationship #and he couldn't have done that if he overpowered tamlin #also #do y'all remember when feyre looked into his mind and found overwhelming sorrow #just stab me in the heart #acotar #my sweet boy

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our Girl – Part 4

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst

Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings: Smut [18+, minors DNI]

You stared at the gold invitation, cursive writing announcing Cresseida to be wed in a months time. And there was your name printed, Y/N and partners. You had scoffed when you first saw it – maybe in another life.

You were chewing your lip, lost in thought on whether to attend or not. You knew at the least, Rhys and Feyre would attend the wedding – that meant seeing them. And word would surely spread of your work at Spring Court once you got to chatting to other guests – that would reveal your location. 

“Whats bothering you, young spark?” Finbark asked from the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables as a pot of stew boiled behind him. He looked up briefly, spotting the invitation in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of not attending?” 

“I don't want to risk what I have here.”

“Y/N, everything you’ve worked for is already yours. Your home here, your work, even your privacy, no one can take that away from you now, not even a High Lord or Lady.”

“I know, you’re right. It’s just… I've so enjoyed my little bubble away from everything that happened. Seeing them… they made me feel so small Fin, so helpless. I don't know if I can stand going through that again.”

“So much has happened since then. Look at all you’ve done, all you’ve accomplished. Thousands of fae, gods, even the entire damn court is mending thanks to you. You were never small, and you have proven that to yourself over and over again.”

A wobbly smile jerked at your lips, tears pricking in your eyes. He wiped his hands, leaving the vegetables to come cup your face, brushing away your tears.

“You cannot lock yourself in Spring Court forever, sweetheart. Don't punish yourself for their mistakes, expand your horizons, celebrate with friends that are equally yours as they are theirs. And celebrate yourself, you deserve that even more.”

You reached for your uncle’s rippled hand, holding it tight. “Thank you, Finbark. You mean the world to me.”

“And you me, young spark.” 

So it was decided. You would attend the wedding, without any partners.

————

“Where are we going?” you called from Podie, Tamlin a few paces ahead on his own horse. He was leading you through a trail you weren't familiar with.

“For the umpteenth time Y/N, it’s a surprise.” He called back without turning his head. 

You let out an audible sigh, to which Tamlin chuckled. You did your best not to admire his ass as he straddled a horse – it helped neither of you how handsome Tamlin looked in his riding clothes. You pressed your heels to Podie, coming to trot beside him.

“You should know I hate surprises,” you sang.

“Even the good kind? What a shame,” Tamlin responded, clearly not letting up on where he was taking you. You poked your tongue out, earning another chuckle.

It had been several months since your first dinner with Tamlin, and you had fallen into a comfortable pattern with the High Lord. You enjoyed a regular drink or meal together when your work crossed paths, and he had even consulted you on advice for his court, which flattered you. His company was a consistent pleasure, and you treasured the friendship you had formed – the Gods knew you needed it.

You managed to bite your tongue for another twenty minutes, and just as you were about to pester him again, Tamlin spoke. “It’s just up this trail.”

Pulling the reins of his horse, Tamlin led you down a steep path, hidden much by overhanging trees and bushes, only to reveal a clearing.

No, not a clearing – a field, blossoming with rows of carefully planted pink flowers. And as you got closer, the size of the field was revealed, bordered by a low wooden fence. It was… a farm?

You drew in an audible breath as the scent of the flowers hit you. You widened your eyes at Tamlin, who was grinning at your shock. You dismounted Podie quickly, rushing to brace the fence as you took in the site with awe. 

“Wild Gernaium?” you choked, your eyes still wide. 

“The healing flower,” Tamlin nodded. “It took a while to learn how to farm them, months in fact, but Spring has Prythians best botanists.”

“And here I thought they could only grow in the wild,” you shook your head with disbelief. “Tamlin, these are so rare, how on earth you were able to farm this many?”

“Spring Court is a land that gives back, the soil here is rich of nutrients and the weather forgiving. It is of course only something we were able to do, thanks to your mission work to help recover the land. This is your accomplishment as much as it is theirs.”

Tears pricked in your eyes then. The amount of fae that could be helped with this crop – it was an overwhelming thought. 

“And they are for you, of course.”

You gaped at the High Lord, who laughed again. 

“For me?”

“Of course, for your work. Whatever you need – farmers to pick the flowers, a factory full of workers to grind and bottle the pigment – say the word and it’s yours.”

“Tamlin, I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Please, don’t. It’s not a thanks I deserve, I’m just… trying to look out for my people. Just as you do.”

“Well… you’ve done a Gods damned good job,” you said with raised brows, blowing out a loose breath at the extend of the farm. 

Tamlin threw his head back and laughed, and you grinned at his happiness. You reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Nice work, High Lord.”

Tamlin squeezed your hand back. “It wouldn't be without you.”

He pulled on your hand then, leading you through the flowers as you admired the plants up close. He explained that a factory could be built at the farms edge, attached with a pressing mill and grinders. Your heart fluttered with excitement, your work could extend past manual labour, you could now offer medicine and healing. There was a force brewing inside you, something unstoppable and good, something that lay dormant for centuries, finally unleashed and free.

You still held Tamlin’s hand as he lead you through the field, making your way to a lush hill that overlooked the farm. You sat together, Tamlin listening contently as you excitedly spoke through your ideas on how to harvest the medicine, noting that your small growing team of mission workers could also help to distribute throughout the court.

“How many aid workers have you recruited now?” Tamlin asked. 

“Seven, and we’re currently inducting Nyvya in the east. She’s a trained healer, so will be delighted to hear of the Gernaium.”

“That’s wonderful,” he smiled. 

“It is,” you said warmly, and it occurred to you that you owed Tamlin a truth. An idea you were planning to run by him at a much later time. But with the offer of the Gernaium, the access to this kind of healing, that changed things. “It is,” you repeated almost flatly, chewing at your lip as your eyes fell distant, dancing with thought.

Tamlin caught the movement, and he frowned slightly as he shifted from his lounging position. “What is it?”

Your heart rose in anticipation – you felt sheepish. So you stared at him, deciding on whether it was in fact the right time.

“You can say it – whatever it is,” he said gently, taking your hand. Your silence lead him to start guessing. “Are you leaving Spring?”

“No, no I–”

“Because you are free to come and go as you please. I know my past behaviour speaks for itself, but I would hate to think that you feel trapped or–”

You grabbed his shoulders then, squeezing the muscle underneath. “Tamlin, gods I know that.”

The action seemed to stun him, and his lips pressed into a thin line. You felt a slight twang of guilt for drawing out such a distinct shame in him. 

You took a deep breath, pulling your hands to your lap. “With the mission work expanding, along with my team, we have been able to help fae at the borders, some from Summer, even a few from Autumn.”

Tamlin nodded assuringly, a sign for you to continue. He didn't startle over the technicality of Spring members helping foreign fae – that was a good sign. 

“And it felt good to help them Tam, they were isolated, and just as vulnerable as some of those in Spring.”

“Of course,” he said softly.

You had to take a deep breath, and your eyes found the horizon beyond the rolling hills around you. 

“You know,” you spoke softly. “My ambitions to help and protect others, it has always existed beyond court borders.”

You could see Tamlin shift, before giving a slow nod. 

“After talking with my team, we believe our mission work could gain traction in other courts, should they be willing. We could share knowledge, resources too if it was agreed, and provide aid across Prythian without being conformed to borders.”

You forced your eyes to Tamlin then, grimacing at what you might find written on his face. But it was just as neutral, his eyes soft, his jaw chiselled and handsome and – damn him.

“This is not the way I wanted to propose this to you Tamlin, please know. Especially after your generosity with the Gernaium, I understand completely if you have grown them purely to aid your own subjects. But that doesn't stop the need for mission work across Prythian. I plan to gain the support from as many High Lords and Ladies as possible, and I would be honoured if that started with you.”

Tamlin eyed you with those sharp green eyes, the kind of look that made you shift under the weight of it. And after an insufferable silence, he spoke. 

“You are incredible.”

You blinked in shock, Tamlin’s lips pulling at your reaction. 

“Truly,” he smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it. “I have never met anyone who was to see a need as great as this, and think to grow it beyond borders. Magic anchors a High Lord or Lady to their Court, it makes us territorial and protective, violent even. But you, this,” he said waving his hand to you, before sighing, contemplating how to say what he felt in words. “You are what this world needs.”

Your eyes welled before two fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “Tamlin,” you chocked, unable to think of anything else to say.

He shifted closer, brushing the tears away with his thumb as he cupped your face. “You have my support Y/N. Thank you for teaching me to be better.”

Emotion surged through you, as if flushing you from years of doubt and hate, replaced now with inspiration, kindness and good, honest love. And then your lips were on his. 

Taken aback, Tamlin caught himself on one strong arm as you held his face and kissed him. You pulled away, worried to have overstepped your boundaries. But then a strong hand laced around your waist, his other propping himself up as he leaned in, closing his mouth over yours, a sharp breath drawn as his nose brushed against your. Friendship, understanding, a blossoming love – how quickly Tamlin had welcomed you to a world capable of healing, of growth. 

Every fibre in your limbs begged to be closer to him, to bask in the vulnerability he had shown you, and you him. In only half a year, you had grown together, healed together, and learned to love one another. You did, you loved him, for whatever he was to you – a dear friend, a High Lord, it didn't matter. It was equal, and genuine, and you craved it in every way. 

Fuelled in by dizzy passion, you quickly straddled his lap, pulling at his broad shoulders to bring him further into you, letting him encompass your senses. 

Tamlin’s own hands slid across your back, moving up to your neck, gripping at the roots of your hair, the other grasped at the flesh where your thighs met your hips. 

He seemed to realise where this was heading, pulling away with a sharp breath through his nose. “Y/N–”

You shook your head, dismissing him immediately with another kiss, your tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. “Tamlin.” His name was a plea.

“Are you cer–?”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his question, peppering kissed in between words. “I’ve–never–been–more–certain.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and goosebumps pricked at your skin as you felt it vibrate through to you. Your excitement peaked, it had been so long since you had shared yourself with another, and your core fluttered with anticipation as every fragment of you seemed to chant yes, yes, yes. 

Which is exactly what you moaned as Tamlin entered you, your skirts pulled high, his riding pants pulled low. You placed a flat palm on his chest, your eyes clenched shut as you stretched around his girth, your walls already throbbing as you slowly slid down. Tamlin let out a stifled growl, one laced with satisfaction and a lot of restraint. 

Strong arms hugged you then, and you began to writhe together, moving gently and sensually as you ground against each other. Chasing release was far beyond you, there was so much pleasure to be had in sharing your bodies, relishing in the trust you both had found in one another.

Tamlin did his best to keep a leash if his instincts, his beast form begging to be released and he grunted and growled when you moved your hips in a certain way, nipping at your neck and ear as claws now ran down your back. You ran your fingers through his hair, using it to guide his face to yours as you kissed him and fucked him how you pleased. His own hands moved to grip at your ass to do the same. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, his deep voice breaking, strained with pleasure. 

“Tamlin, gods, you feel–”

“So. Good,” he gritted, finishing your sentence. You leaned back, head thrown back as your hands found balance on his thighs as you rode him in the warm spring air. 

Pleasure found both of you again and again in that afternoon. You climaxed on his lap, and not twenty minutes later he was pushing into you again, your bare thighs spread on the lush green grass as he moved above you. You clung together, a writhing, sweaty mix of passion and pleasure until the sun began to set over the rolling hills. 

Tamlin reached for you, his fingers lacing with yours as you ate the last of the berries he had packed. He kissed your forehead before turning you to rest against his chest, not wanting you to miss the view. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your hair. 

Stroking his arms that were tightly wrapped at your waist, you swallowed, debating on what to say. But no, Tamlin deserved the truth, you must always choose truth. You sighed , saddened by what was churning through your head after such incredible sex.

“I’m thinking we need to discuss what this afternoon means.” 

You loved him, you did, but Tamlin was bound to his court, and your life called beyond it. It wouldn't work, no matter how much you cared for each other.

Tamlin knew this too. “What if,” he spoke softly, brushing your hair away from your neck so he could place a gentle kiss on it. “What if we enjoy this moment for what it is, just for today.”

You smiled, kissing his hands. “Tomorrow then.”

“Plenty of problems await,” he joked, and you laughed before settling further into him. You smiled cockily as you felt him harden against you. Tomorrow indeed.

————

One month later

Peering from the carriage window, your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the clap of horses hooves as guests arrived at the summer estate, music floating gently from within.

Dawned in all colours, you watched guests gasp in awe at the beauty of the building. This was one of many of Tarquin’s estates - one you had never visited. It was an open, grecian style home, golden columns holding the impressive entrance carved with shimmering vines. Fae flocked in groups, sparkling wine already in their hands as they made their way to the gardens, no doubt where the service was being held. 

“Are you alright?” Tamlin asked, the velvet of his deep green suit brushing against your bare arm. 

“Uneasy to say the least,” you said thickly, your tongue stiff with nerves. “And you?”

Tamlin looked beyond the window, eyeing each of the guests. “One step at a time,” was his response as he squeezed your knee. 

————

The curtesy wine offered to you at the entrance was gone within the first few moments of arriving. You wouldn't make a fool of yourself here, but a little wine to take the edge off couldn't hurt. 

Tarquin stood proudly, wearing a fine turquoise suit detailed with gold thread, shaking hands as he welcomed guests. 

“Y/N,” he beamed, taking your hands and kissing each of your cheeks. “I’m honoured you came.”

“The pleasure is mine, Tarquin. Thank you for having me.”

“Nonsense, both Creseida and I might have forced you here if you had not come willingly.”

You laughed freely. “How is she?”

“A wreck of nerves,” he chuckled. 

“I’m sure she looks beautiful,” you laughed lightly back. 

“She does, just as you do,” he winked, raising your hands he still held to take in your dress. A silken, soft blue dress fell of your body, its back open as material gathered just before your rear. The dressmaker had done an incredible job, fitting style and colour alike. You had politely declined her suggestions of a sage green, a Spring Court signature. It was kind, but you were courtless for over a year now, and proud of it. Instead, you had asked for sky blue – as no one ruled the skies. 

Blushing, you let out another soft laugh. “You are too kind, High Lord.”

Tarquins eyes flashed behind you, catching Tamlin as he spoke with some familiars a few paces away. “Have you…?” he questioned, trailing off.

You smiled knowingly. “I’ve come alone. Tamlin and I shared a carriage, journeying from the same court. You remember of my work there?”

“Remember? Sweetheart, there is talk of your mission throughout my court. There are guests here who are very keen to meet you. And we will need to formally discuss your work, and give a proper thanks to the aid you have provided at the border.”

You were smiling wide now, shaking your head with gratitude. “I would like that too, but perhaps not here.”

Tarquin grinned. “No, perhaps not. Welcome, sweet Y/N, please enjoy the festivities, and accomodation.”

You smiled politely as Tamlin approached, exchanging a firm handshake before raising his brows at you. “Shall we head in?”

Nodding tightly, you let Tamlin guide you with a hand at the small of your back. At the very least, the warmth of his skin against yours was a small comfort. 

The estate was even more impressive the further you ventured, white marble and golden staircases twisting this way and that, leading to corridors of rooms, each door carved to perfection. These were the guest accomodations, and included your own for the evening. 

But the jewel of the home was its view, where a perfectly groomed garden now catered to almost a thousand fae, overlooking the crystal blue Adriatic, the waves beneath crashing the cliff quieted by the string quartet. It was an overwhelming beautiful home, and you were glad to be lost in a sea of guests. 

 A golden arch was set at the end of a the aisle, a High Priestess exchanging words with a groom you did not recognise. But you smiled – you were happy for Creseida. 

“An impressive turnout,” Tamlin muttered, sipping his wine as his green eyes turned sharp, scanning the crowd. You ignored the glances being cast your way, whether it was from your attendance with Tamlin, or Tamlin’s presence alone, you didn't care. What did these fools know of either of your stories to judge.

And you tried not to look, to not let your heart beat fast as you scoured for a rare set of wings amongst the finery of the wedding, telling yourself you wouldn’t turn your heel and run at the site of any siphons or shadows or night. But you were thankful to not find any. 

That was, until you felt them. Muscles jerking, goosebumps pricked your skin as your power began to tingle sharply, spreading across your body like a rash. Shit – you hadn't anticipated to lose your lid in such a way, your power had been so forgiving this past year. 

A small gap parted in the crowd of guests at the stairs of the estate, and the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court were revealed. Arms loop, night curling around them in the fashion that impressed and threatened all at once. Rhysand shook hands with a nearby male, Feyre kissing the cheeks of a curtsying female. 

It shocked you, how quickly your spy instincts found you. As if in one of your many life-threatening missions, your senses narrowed, the noise in your brain focusing to immediate details – taking in only what you needed to survive, just as Azriel and Cassian had trained you. Your vision barrelled to the couple who still greeted others some distance away. Scanning behind them, you anticipated the remainder of your old family, and of course, your exes. 

Yet no one followed. Not even Mor. It seemed the High Lord and Lady had attended alone. It was strange – had things turned bad at the Court, that even the Morrigan had forgone a wedding?

Rhysand wore a handsome smile as he guided Feyre down the stairs to the garden, guests parting even further, bowing as they strode through. They were getting closer, and you ignored the clench of your heart as their scent filled your nose, before mixing with others. It was the smell of home.

No. it wasn't home. Not anymore, and not for a good while now. You hated that instinct, to curl into it, to let it welcome you, claiming you still. 

You glanced behind, conscious that they would find you standing with Tamlin. But he was no where to be seen, and you thanked him silently for the courtesy of having stepped away.

Rhysand and Feyre glided closer and closer, exchanging nods and accepting bows. And then they halted, violet eyes scanning before locking to yours, grey eyes shortly followed. And Rhys’s smile, the one that he used in the face of the public, it softened, his eyebrows twitching upwards almost unnoticeably. 

Feyre’s hand gripping at his arm tighter, and you could hear her heart fasten from where you stood. You almost resented how in-tune you were to them, these micro-behaviours. 

Glancing between them both, you followed the order of those next to you, lowering yourself to a polite curtsy. 

They couldn't reach you, not without drawing attention, not without the watchful eyes of hundreds of guests. So with a nod from Rhys, and a soft smile from Feyre, they continued on, finding their seats in the queues. 

————

Cresseida was the most beautiful bride you had ever seen. Golden vines were cuffed along her arms, as a silk gown as white as her hair trailed behind her as she walked the aisle, Tarquin proudly at her side. 

You smiled through your tears as she was married. You were happy for her– you were happy –you were… An unmarketable emotion filled you as you couldn’t help the run of tears that continued to pour, even after the ceremony ended. 

————

“And is it true that you were able to help the children at the border?” questioned one of Tarquin’s emissaries as she leaned in, raising her voice over the music. 

The party was in full swing, food had been served and hundreds of fae drank and danced, celebrating Creseida’s courtship, each of them eager to get even a glimpse at the bride and groom. 

“Yes, we were lucky to have an experienced healer join the mission, and she was already aiding some of the fae in Spring.”

The female smiled, and squeezed your arm. “On behalf of my court, we are grateful.”

“Not at all,” you smiled back. “Your authorities were notified, and from what I heard your own healers were already on their way. We were simply closer to that area, and had supplies to spare.”

It had been hours, and your company was still in high demand as endless Summer Court members were eager to meet you. Tarquin, it seemed, had been spreading you just as much praise as Tamlin. You had danced with many, exchanging jokes and stories, enjoying the festivities with some familiar faces and many new ones. 

It was a struggle to keep your eyes from averting, your instinct to find Rhys and Feyre in the crowd was loud and stubborn. Old habits, you supposed. 

Tamlin approached you then, having made himself scarce from your company for most of the evening, something you both had agreed to do. But you were comforted by his presence as he easily slid into the conversation, slipping a glass of fae wine into your hand without even asking. You smiled, giving his shoulder a thankful squeeze. 

There was an itchy, uneasy feeling that tugged at you, and you knew you were under watchful eyes. You found them, surrounded by their own acquaintances, and while Rhys masked his curiosity perfectly, Feyre’s stare bored into you from across the dance floor. 

Taking a large sip of wine, you let it warm you as you squared your shoulders. You would not cower, you would not shy away. And now was a better time than any.

So you strode directly to them, Feyre’s stare softening as Rhys pardoned himself from his conversation. Then, they were walking towards you to. 

You stopped a few paces shy from each other. Staring. It was…. awkward. 

But then Rhysand smiled. Warm and genuine and familiar. You hoped he didn't hear your silent curse to him. 

“You look well,” he said. 

You nodded, acknowledging the half-compliment, sensing their relief. No, you weren't that broken withered girl you were when you left. 

“How is Nyx?” The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them. You would have been more annoyed at yourself, but your care for that child was pure, and you knew they would never withhold him as currency. 

“He’s well, growing every day,” Feyre replied. “And walking all on his own.”

Your smile, be it small, was sincere. 

“He still… asks about you,” she added. 

Pain sliced through your heart then, and you weren't quick enough to hide it in your face. “Don’t,” you whispered, your voice strained. Gods, that didn't take long.

“I’m sorry,” Feyre said quickly, hands reaching out before she quickly drew them back in. “I didn't mean–“ she cut herself short, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

You cast your eyes to the side, blinking away the sting of tears. “It’s alright.”

Rhysand watched you intently. “Perhaps we can all use some fresh air? I spotted a terrace, free from other guests.”

The choice was yours, you knew that. You had things you wanted to say, and you were sure they did to. You nodded, following their lead as you quickly cast a look backwards, Tamlin offering you a tight nod as you left the room.

————

“So, mission work in Spring?” Rhys asked, wine swirling in his hand as he leaned casually against a column, warm summer breeze surrounding the three of you as the party continued faintly below. 

You nodded, your arms crossed at your chest. 

“It’s very impressive,” Feyre added from where she sat, offering a genuine smile. 

You didn't respond, unsure of how much detail to reveal. Rhysand caught on, sighing slightly. 

“We didn't bring you here to interrogate you for detail, It’s only that your work and whereabouts is quickly becoming widespread knowledge. We thought it was best to acknowledge that we know it too.”

“And what of Cassian and Azriel?”

“We have held true to our bargain on that.” You believed him. 

There was an award silence, unasked questions looming. 

“Are you safe there?” Feyre asked quietly.

“Very much so.”

“And Tamlin is–”

“A friend,” you said quickly. 

“– respectful to you, was what I was going to ask,” Feyre said with a knowing look.

You sighed then, running a hand through your hair. “I didn't do it to hurt you,” you said, with a straight face. You owed her no allegiance, but, you were done hurting others, and her concern did no one any good. 

“I know,” Feyre acknowledged, with the grace of a High Lady, of someone who knew that the past was the past. She shook her head then, before adding. “We worry for you, that is all.”

“He’s changed.” You were shocked at how quickly those words left your mouth. 

It was Rhys who threw you a condescending look. You hated how small it made you feel. 

“Look, I appreciate your warning, but Tamlin has shown strides of growth, he has acknowledged his mistakes and is working endlessly to undo them. When was the last time you looked within yourselves?”

Rhys flashed his eyes at you with warning, bringing an arm to comfort his wife. “Careful,” he said plainly, but a flash of darkness passed through those violet eyes. 

Damn him. And damn Feyre too. “You didn’t so much as try to stop them,” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears as you focused on her. Gods damn it – you thought you were past this, past them. But it was as if a year away meant nothing, you were just as hurt as that night you left the Night Court. Feyre watched with a pain expression as your lip wobbled. “And you didn't so much as try to apologise,” you whispered, your voice moments away from breaking. 

Feyre’s eyes now glistened with the same tears. “You shut us out,” she countered, and you could see how much your own choices had wounded her.

“What choice did I have?” you asked, brushing away a stray tear. “You think I want to be this way? You think I wanted to cast myself out? You broke my trust and lied to me, alienating me from this family. And I was supposed to come to you for an apology?”

Feyre gulped guiltily, looking at the floor. Rhys watched you intensely, a concerned frown on his face. 

“You’re right,” Feyre said quietly, grey eyes now finding yours. “But you must know Y/N, I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since the day it happened. I thought it wise for Azriel and Cassian to want to protect you, but I realised very quickly how it was that kind of thinking that trapped me within warded walls,  and that had me fleeing my home all those years ago.”

You nodded, casting your eyes upwards to not let the tears stain your face yet again. “We can't keep doing this.”

“What’s that?” Rhys asked gently. 

“This,” you gulped, waving your hands between you. “These sorry confessions and apologies, it hurts us all.”

“Alright,” Rhys said neutrally. “But you acknowledge our apology?’

“Yes.”

“Do you forgive us?”

Your lips pressed tight as you grimaced. 

“That would be a no,” Rhys said sadly, his smile broken. Feyre couldn't force one if she wanted to. 

“I want us to move forward,” you offered instead. “There is no use in resentment. It may be that we’ll continue to cross paths, and it is important to me that you know I will not respond illy.”

“Of course,” Feyre nodded, smiling. 

A sharp pain throbbed at your temples then, the kind that came about when you had to keep your emotions and powers under tight strain. It was instinct to rub at your temples. 

“Can I heal that for you?” Rhys was now standing in front of you, his smile remained but his eyes – heavy, saddened. 

You blinked up at him before flicking your eyes to Feyre who waited eagerly for you to respond. Was this a test? Could it be, after all that had happened, you could consider them just…friends? You searched within yourself for the right answer, but nothing came about. It was just too soon. 

But there was no harm in letting Rhys work some of his magic. “Alright,” you replied, and you heard Feyre loose a breath. 

Rhysand’s hands cupped the side of your face, his fingers pressing to your temples as the familiar feeling of him slipping into your mind sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in you, something impossible to kill that was comforted by his touch. He was, after all, your High Lord of decades. He had been your home, your family, and maybe there was some part of that would always remain. It upset you how much you had to resist the urge to wrap your arms around his waist, to pull Feyre in too, to sob of how much you missed home, your family, how much you ached while you were apart. 

It was over as quickly as it began, Rhys slipping from your mind, leaving no trace of a headache behind. You hadn't clocked that you had closed your eyes, your lip quivering as your cheeks were now wet with tears. Rhys kept his hands on your face, brushing them away. 

“Y/N–,” he said softly, his face pained. You knew what he would say – come home, even if you hate us, come home. But you wouldn't give him a chance. 

“T-thank you,” you stammered, pulling away from Rhysand’s hold and fleeing the terrace, leaving the two to their shock. 

————

You were brushing away hot, fast tears as you fled the wedding, racing towards your guest room. 

Gods, what was wrong with you today? You hated feeling like this – an unstable, blubbering mess. Nothing had changed in a year, not really. You were still the same, broken and alone. It hurt just as much to see your family now. 

To hell with this wedding. You craved a sleep tonic and to be rid of this night. That was when Tamlin fell into side-step with you. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked simply, muttering the words to avoid drawing attention as you passed through the crowd. 

“No,” you managed to say, and you could have kissed him for playing into the nonchalance. He seemed to respect privacy, even when there was little to be found. 

“I’ll walk you to your rooms.”

“No, Tam, I’m fine, you should–”

“Nonsense,” he replied, and you knew you wouldn't shake him. So you walked to your room,  sniffing through your tears as you tried to calm the current brewing at your fingertips, Tamlin by your side.

You reached your quarters, a private corner in a long corridor or rooms. The door was carved in  unique artwork, familiar somehow, as if beckoning you to enter from within. 

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” he said with an unconvinced look. 

“I will be, Tam, thank you.” 

You gave his hand a quick squeeze, before turning the handle to the door. 

And made it two paces in, before shadows filled your vision. 

————

You swore as strong hands held your shoulders, blue siphons a blur as shadows cast around you. You fought on instinct, but it was impossible to shake Azriel’s grip. 

“What in Mothers name–?!” you cursed again. 

“You’re safe,” Azriel spoke with relief. Despite yourself, your skin ignited at the husk of his voice.

“Get your damn hands off me,” you gritted, taking in the room as the smog of shadows finally cleared. 

Cassian was between you and the door, where Tamlin still stood, completely stunned. The General’s hands quickly curled into fists.

No one moved, each of you just as shocked to see the other. They had come for you, yes, but you were certain Tamlin was an unpleasant surprise. 

“Fuck,” you ground out, almost rolling your eyes as you knew the strife that now awaited your friend. 

Azriel moved you behind him, as if you needed to be shielded, protected. “What are you doing here, traitor?”

“Let her go at once,” Tamlin growled, stepping into the room. 

You stepped out from behind Azriel, your mind reeling at the sight of the two Illyrians in you room. You hated them, but something in you churned - a yearning. It was easy to stamp down as a rage took over. 

“What are you doing here?” you countered.

Azriel gave you a piercing look, running his eyes down your body. There was love in that look, but a sternness too. 

“Answer me,” you ground out. 

Cassian was still facing Tamlin, his siphons so bright they radiated heat. “Did you hurt her?” he growled at Tamlin, a shaking rage consuming him. 

“You hunted me? Like a mare?” your voice was ice cold, colder than any of these males could ever hope to perfect. Your trust, betrayed, again. 

That voice snared their attention. Cassian casting a look back at you, desperate, like he wanted to give you all of his time, to never stop drinking in the sight of you. 

You prowled closer, fingers twitching as your power grew so strong zapping could be heard. “Rhys’s promise to me, the bargain. You broke it,” you spat.

“Y/N.” Cassian said your name, begging you. His pain cut through to you, your power dampening as a sick, sick part of you folded at his plea. Go to him, that part of you begged. 

The room was filled with a sharp coldness and breeze as Rhys and Feyre winnowed into your quarters, Feyre’s face one of shock, Rhys’s one of fury. 

“What in Gods name are you doing here?” he growled at his brothers. 

“You left us no choice,” Azriel seethed back at Rhys, his wing stopping you as you silently moved to join Tamlin. 

You glared at him. “Try that again,” you growled. 

Azriel’s eyes were dark, predatory, but his brows pulled with a softness only reserved for you. “I do not trust him.”

“And I do not trust you,” you spat back. 

“The promise,” Rhys growled, glaring between his brothers. 

“Y/N, we had no idea they had come,” Feyre spoke with a desperation that you had to believe her. 

“Leave. Now.” Rhys ordered, but the males ignored him, his power underwhelming in another court. 

Cassian’s brow pulled, his face truly broken as he spoke to you. “You left us. And joined him?”

You snapped at the accusation. “I joined no one, because I belong to no one. I pursued a life beyond you, and I am a free female. Free to roam wherever I please, and fuck whoever I want.”

You words landed their mark, because both Azriel and Cassian recoiled.

And then Cassian’s face turned grave, as he slowly faced Tamlin again. “You-you touched her?”

You cursed yourself for the pointed insult – you should have known it would put Tamlin in the firing line. To his defense, Tamlin held a high chin. 

“She is a free female. Nor you or I can rob her of that.”

Azriel snarled, and Cassian was on Tamlin in an instant. 

“Stop that! Get off him! You will not hurt him!” you cried, broken at the thought of Tamlin being hurt because of you. 

But before you could throw yourself at Cassian, night magic filled the space, pulling the males apart, commanding the room to its master. And you were surprised to see Feyre walking towards them, her palms outstretched, night pouring from her as her eyes now glowed with silver. 

“Sensless violence ends now, I don’t care about the circumstance.” 

What did she mean by that?

“Leave,” Cassian snarled at Tamlin, but Tamlin held his ground. 

“He is welcomed to stay so long as Y/N sees fit,” Feyre spoke coldly, forcing Cassian’s eyes back to her. Now that, was a High Lady. “I can not believe you two–“

“You weren't invited?” you interjected, untrusting of your exes as you scowled between them. 

Rhys shook his head from across the room. “We went as far to hide the papers.”

You gulped as you stared up at Azriel. “Pray tell, how you found me, then?”

Azriel wore no remorse as he said “Amren – she possessed an invite and–”

Exasperated sounds from each of you filled the room. Amren, of course. She was the only one to know to play games above Rhys and Feyre’s head, and cunning enough to pull it off. 

“And what is your plan, then?” you added coldly. “Drag me back to the Night Court, kicking and screaming?”

“No, of course not,” Cassian responded softly, stepping towards you, stopping as you retreated back. “We had to know that you were safe.”

You stared at him, the sorrow in his voice, the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. He was broken. 

“You were not well when you left, Y/N. It’s been killing us not knowing how you are faring now,” Azriel added, his eyes soft, looking just as worn as his brother. You knew he sang silently to his shadows as they coiled in on themself, they would be begging to reach you. 

“Please, don't be angry,” Cassian begged, his eyes welling. “We’ll go, we’ll go now, it’s just–”

“We love you. We- we need you,” Azriel interjected, his own brow clenched with pain. 

Each of their words were a dagger to your heart, piercing it’s way through the walls you had built. 

“Stop that,” you whispered, your hand pressing against your chest to ease the pain. Were these your feelings, or theirs?

“It’s true,” Cassian continued. “You’re our girl. We'll do better, Y/N, we promise. Please.”

It was painful to hear, and you faltered slightly as your body jerked in pain. Something was breaking within you, crumpling around something else, something buried deep. 

“Please Y/N, come home.”

Your knees gave out as you let out an anguished cry, your heart tearing and swelling to the point where you thought you just might die. 

“Y/N!” Tamlin called in panic, but Azriel and Cassian were already at your sides, holding you, asking where it hurt. 

Palms braced on the floor, you tried to breath through laboured breaths as you finally felt what was concealed for so long. It was unmistakable, a tether of sun-lit rope, tying you to the males at either side of you. You felt it all – their fear, the instincts to take you far from this place, their overwhelming, unconditional love. 

And you hated it. 

“No,” you gasped, your hand finding your heart as you tried to calm its pounding.

Azriel glanced at Cassian, who gave a single nod in confirmation. Feyre gasped from where she stood. 

“What is it?” Tamlin panicked. “What’s going on?”

“No!” you repeated, standing quickly and backing away from the two males. It couldn't be – you were free, you had left…

They watched you with saddened eyes at the horror that beheld you. 

“The Mother is cruel,” Rhys tutted, lowering his head in sympathy.

“What in the gods-forsaken realms is going on?” Tamlin yelled.

“No, no, no, no! Please, no!” You clutched at the roots of your hair, your mind reeling as you begged to no one. You were bound to them, whether you liked it or not. An enslavement of kinds.

“It snapped,” Feyre answered to Tamlin without ever turning his way.

It was too much to bare – their instincts, your newly ignited ones, their love, your hate. Your brain scrambled for sense, fighting itself over and over as you shook at your knees. 

A final ‘no’ pushed past your lips before your body gave out, the world tipping and your vision darkening as strong hands caught you. 

You succumbed to the gods damned mating bond. 

-------

Part 5>>>

AN: Helllllllllo my lovelies! I am so so bloody excited to share this part with you! It was a rollercoaster to write, hope you held on tight for this angst-train! Always, always, ALWAYS want to hear your thoughts and feelings on where this story is heading, so please drop a comment anytime. And thank you endlessly for your support with this fic - it means the world. MWA!!

#acotar fem reader #acotar series #cazriel series #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x cassian x you #azriel angst #cassian angst #cazriel x you #cazriel x fem reader #tamlin x reader #acotar angst #rhysand x reader #feyre x reader #tamlin redemption #cazriel angst #cassian x azriel x y/n #acotarfanfic #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #mating bond #cazriel x mating bond #azriel x cassian x y/n #azriel x cassian angst #acotar smut

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground. 

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body. 

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard. 

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out. 

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred. 

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him. 

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

#cassian x reader #cassian imagine #actoar cassian x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #rita writes

[lorcandidlucienwill]

The most disturbing things portrayed in ACOTAR

Victim-blaming: Lucien tries to help Feyre and gets physically abused by Tamlin as a result. Feyre then proceeds to call him a dog despite Lucien doing everything he could in a difficult situation. And we're supposed to...support Feyre on this? And Rhysand throws around words like "can never forgive" man stfu you prick.

Sexual Assault: The most disturbing thing is not that Rhysand sexually assaulted Feyre. It's that he's never held accountable for this and never even apologizes at ANY point in the series. There are so many examples but this is the one that is the most disturbing.

Double Standards: We have Tamlin locking Feyre up for her own good being vilified, yet Rhysand is championed for locking Lucien and Nesta up in houses for their own good. Huh? WTF.

War Crimes: What Feyre did to the Spring Court, manipulating the sentries with the whole Ianthe thing and basically getting them killed, then weakening the Spring Court rulership which resulted in all those villagers in the Spring Court getting killed, then laying the Summer Court bare to Hybern as well, are nothing short of war crimes. And...instead of feeling regret, we have the main characters saying "Hybern's actions are their own." Like bitch what? Hybern wouldn't have been able to do shit if it wasn't for you! Have some damn accountability! And the fact that Tamlin and Tarquin are vilified for this never ceases to irk me.

Grooming: Rhysand groomed Feyre. He made excuses for everything he did with trauma, then sent Feyre out to do tasks for him like she's some kind of weapon he can use. WITHOUT giving her proper information, there is no choice. And everything he does is constantly explained away, until eventually Feyre becomes his trophy wife. Rhysand basically assigns Cassian to do the same for Nesta. I'm holding out hope that Elain will be saved from the Night Court.

The pregnancy debacle: the whole thing with the baby having wings and Rhysand withholding information from Feyre is just...disturbing. Idc if you're not telling her FoR hEr OwN gOoD, it is HER life at stake and she deserves to know. They didn't even try to shapeshift her to try and save her life? Like why is everybody seemingly more concerned about the baby than the mother? Disgusting. And why is Nesta vilified for being the only one to tell Feyre? She said it to hurt her, blah blah blah. She also wanted to show Feyre that their situations are similar. That they're BOTH being shit on by the Night Court. And when she's close to a breaking point...Nesta is forced to hike a mountain? That is physical abuse. Also, Rhysand being extremely territorial putting a shield over her and barely letting Feyre go anywhere is beyond weird.

Suicide baiting: What Rhysand did to Tamlin in ACOFAS is nothing short of suicide baiting. And...only Lucien seems to really be that concerned about it? Like...are you telling me I'm supposed to be supporting Rhysand after he basically told a depressed male to kill himself?

Segregation: Separating the Hewn City from Velaris IS segregation, no matter what excuse you try to come up with. You can't claim they're all shitty people, since your bestie Mor comes from the CoN. So, there are good people stuck in the CoN unable to get out of their torment because Rhysand decided that only certain individuals are allowed in Velaris.

Performance Feminism: Establishing laws to help women and not doing shit to enforce them is performance feminism. If he's as powerful as he says, he can 100% stop wing-cutting and r*pe. But, he's a goddamn virtue signaler so he doesn't fucking care. The thing is, SJM could've handled these topics in a much better way and it would've been fine. But she completely fucked shit up here and it's crazy that some people don't see it. Part of me is still waiting for the final book where she says, psych rhysand was the villain the whole time. If so, I'll take everything back.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #pro nesta archeron #nesta archeron #tamlin #feyre archeron #anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti nessian #anti inner circle #anti ic #anti e/riel #sjm critical #pro tamlin

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | eight | Azirel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

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

A/N: I'm very nervous about this part and the ones coming after it. I hope you still enjoy it, even though it's probably what you're expecting.

When the darkness faded, all you could see was the Moonstone Palace that you’d spent so much time in as a child. You could finally fill my lungs with air, a sweet jasmine scent floating in it. Feyre was gently laid on a couch in the center of the great room. Mor, who didn’t seem to know what to do, ran forward and wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you so tightly the newly fresh air was knocked from your lungs. 

“You were dead,” She cried, “We mourned you. For years we mourned.”

“I’m sorry,” You choke out, “I tried, for years I tried.” 

But then you gave up. And you accepted your fate in the Spring Court. You didn’t fight hard enough when Amerantha still had control. Or in the days following her fall. You could have made it, surely you could have. You thought you could winnow short distances at that point, though you hadn’t tested it. You should have been able to jump from place to place until you made it to the border of the Night Court. Until you made it to safety. But you didn’t. You threw up in the rose and gave up. 

You gave up on them. 

Dread filled you. Because how could you explain everything that happened to you? How could you explain that you’d given up on ever seeing any of them again, and that your only thought had been of death. Because then, maybe the Mother would grant you access to your own mother. Maybe she would allow you to look after Rhys and the others from whatever world exists beyond your own. 

Guilt swirled in with the dread. How could you tell your brother that you’d been praying for death for hundreds of years? How could you tell him that your mother didn’t beg for herself that day, or her wings, she begged for you. Begged for them to spare you and send you on your way. Begged as they started to cut into your back, leaving behind two long and ugly scars. 

How could you explain any of it?  

“How are you alive?” Rhys questioned, pain lingering in his eyes. 

“Tamlin begged for my life that day,” You reply, feeling an icy cold settle over you. 

You hadn’t spoken of it. Hadn’t voiced what happened that day. Saying it now makes it all too real. Before you could imagine that your mother was still alive, flying around Valaris, but now….now saying it aloud you knew she was gone. You could feel it deep in your bones. 

“He begged his father and brother, said it would be better to keep me as a bargaining chip,” You explain, “He ended up just keeping me as a toy, after everything happened.” 

Then a thought accrued to you. Tamlin was so desperate to get Rhys to release Feyre from their bond, he said he would do anything. Perhaps he would have let you go…perhaps he would’ve finally used you as a bargaining chip against your brother. 

“He probably would’ve offered me on a silver platter for you to release Feyre,” You laugh. 

“All these years, you’ve been right there?” Rhys asked, voice cracking. 

It's been years since you’d seen him cry. The stone exterior was crumbling, leaving behind a broken boy who lost his mother and sister in the same day, only to have one returned to him. You want to move to comfort him, but you’re locked in where you stand. As if there is a spell over you, keeping you from moving. 

You’re afraid to move, truly. Because if you move you might wake up and find that this is all a dream. A beautiful and cruel dream. So you stay put as the tears fall from both yours and Rhys’ eyes. 

“All this time,” You reply, “I’ve been locked away in the Manor House. I was there that night that you and father came, and I was there when you first met Feyre, and every moment after that.”

“Calanmai,” he says suddenly, “You were there that night. Gods above, you spoke to me.”

The tears are falling harder now. Unstoppable against the emotions you both feel. Mor is still standing close to you, you could almost lean against her for support. But she’s somehow also giving you and Rhys your space to work this out. 

“I was praying to the Gods and to the Mother and to the Cauldron that you would be able to see beyond the glamor and see me,” You verify, “That’s why I said I was like the wind, I hoped you would hear it and realize.” 

His head shook, “I couldn’t allow myself to believe. I heard you, Mother I heard you, but I couldn’t believe it. You didn’t smell like you.” 

“Scents change, besides, I was wrapped in Lucien’s clothing to disguise my scent,” You explain, “I expect I smelled like Lucien for a long time. He was the only constant visitor I had for years.” 

“Y/N-” His voice broke as he surged forward to wrap you in his arms, “My sweet baby sister. I’m so sorry.” 

You shake your head. If anyone should feel guilty about all of this, it should be you. You should have fought harder that day. Even at such a young age, you could have misted all of them if you really wanted to. But you’d never killed another fae before. Never killed another living thing. So you hesitated and that was long enough for them to overpower you both and kill your mother. They’d come for Rhys that day, but they got a better prize in the form of the Princess of the Night Court. 

“No, you don’t get to feel bad about this,” You warn him, “You are not to blame.” 

“If I hadn't trusted him…if I would’ve just met you both in the woods thay day,” He all but cries out. 

“No, it’s no one's fault but Tamlin and his family’s,” You stay sternly, hoping maybe one day you’ll believe it. 

Maybe one day you’ll finally believe that you aren’t to blame for your mother’s death. That none of it was your fault. She had no real power of her own, no way to protect herself. It was on you to do that. It was Rhys’ responsibility to protect you both. Not that you would ever, ever blame him for what happened. He couldn’t have known what Tamlin was planning with his family. He couldn’t have known that his friend wanted him dead because they saw him as such a threat. 

Suddenly your body felt heavy and weighed down. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. All you felt was pure exhaustion. Your eyes flutter and Rhys seems to notice the change in your body. 

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” he questions. 

You try to smile, but you know it doesn't reach your eyes, “I don’t sleep well anymore.”

He sighs deeply and wraps an arm around you as he slowly leads you towards the bedrooms, “I can have a tonic brought up for you.”

“No need,”You shake your head, “I’m sure just being back here will put me at ease.” 

You wished you believed the words you were saying. But you didn’t. You weren’t sure that anything would put you at ease again. All you could feel was anxious energy swirling in your belly. Threatening to boil over at any moment. You couldn’t fully wrap your mind around the fact that you were free. Couldn’t fully understand that you were here, and safe, and with your family again. Or at least part of them. 

“Cassain and Azirel won’t know what to do with themselves,” Rhys lets out a small laugh as he wipes at his eyes. 

“You can’t tell them,” You halt suddenly, “Oh, Rhys, you can’t. I’m not ready.”

“Don’t you want to see them again?” he questions, brows drawing in. 

“Of course I do, but I-” You shake your head, feeling your whole body start to shake. 

How could you explain it to him in a way that would make sense? How could he understand where your head was at? Seeing them would push you over the edge. Seeing Az…knowing his shadows would tell him your darkest secrets…you couldn’t handle it. You couldn’t handle seeing him disappointed in you…disgusted with you. It would break you in more ways than Tamlin ever could. 

To lose Azirel was like to lose the air you breathe. It would kill you to lose him. You could feel it deep within you. You wouldn’t survive Azriel turning his back upon you. So it was best that he just didn’t know you lived. Maybe you could live out the rest of your days in a cabin in the mountains. Yes…that would be good. You were used to the solitude anyway. 

“You can’t tell them,” You begged your brother, “Please Rhys. I can’t bear them knowing.”

“But Y/N, they’re our family,” He tried to reason with you. 

“Please Rhys,��� you shake even harder, “I can’t bear it. I’m not ready.” 

“Okay,” He finally relented, “Okay. I won’t tell them.”

Your body sags with his agreement. Your breath comes out in heavy pants, because your lungs seem to be constricting and not allowing the proper amount of air into them. Everything just feels wrong now. Nothing feels right. You feel as if you shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be allowed to have a moment of happiness with your brother. 

You shouldn’t be allowed happiness when it’s your fault that your mother is dead. You should have done more to save her that day, instead of going limp in the arms of Tamlin’s brothers. You should have done everything in your power to save her. Instead you let her die, and you still live. It would have been better if you just died that day. 

“Here we are,” Rhys said, unaware of the thoughts you were having, “Try to sleep. I’ll come check on you in a while.”

“Okay,” You sigh, pushing the door open, “Rhys?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Little Star. Now sleep, before you drop in a heap on the floor.” 

You couldn’t sleep though. No matter how hard you try. Because all you could think of was how it should have been you to die. It should have been you, and not your mother. She could have helped Rhys with his transition into High Lord, she could’ve been there for Cassian and Azirel, who desperately needed a mother. 

But instead you lived. And now you’re too cowardly to tell them that you lived. Too cowardly to ask to return home to Valaris. Too cowardly to do anything. 

Rhys didn’t come back for hours, when he did you pretended to be asleep. All the while tears quietly slid down your cheeks. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Your life wasn’t supposed to happen like this. What did you do to make The Mother punish you so?  

“I’m taking Feyre to Valaris,” He spoke, somehow knowing you’re awake, “Please consider coming with us.”

“No,” You say firmly, not rolling over to see him, “I’d like to stay here.” 

“It’s your home, Y/N,” He pleaded, “You can’t hide from it forever.”

“I can’t go back Rhys,” You can’t explain it to him. He would never let you out of his sight if he knew. 

“Please consider it,” He begs, “Please, Little Star, I don’t want to be separated from you again.”

“Then don’t leave,” You snap at him. 

“You know I have to go back.”

“Then take her and get out,” You snarl, “I’m not going back.”

“Y/N-” 

“Go Rhysand!” You yell, reaching for anything to throw at him. 

You can feel yourself losing control of the little power you had access to. Darkness seeping from your body. There were no stars in this darkness, only a black void. Much like the cocoon that Feyre created. Only this was something you never did. Your darkness always had stars, but now you aren’t sure if you could conjure them even if you tried. 

That light inside you had been snuffed out long ago. It was only now that you realized it. It was only now that you accepted it as the truth. Your light was gone, the stars were gone. You weren’t Rhy’s Little Star anymore. You were something worse. Something made hard from years of captivity and cruelty. You weren’t sure you would even recognize yourself if you looked in the mirror. 

“Fine,” You’d never heard him sound so defeated. You were sure if he had wings they would be dragging on the ground as he turned to leave your room. He stopped at the door and looked back at you, “I’ll send Mor to check in on you.”

“Don’t bother,” You mumble, “I’ll be fine.”

Only you wouldn’t be fine. You weren’t fine. And You weren’t sure that you ever would be fine again. The darkness threatened to swallow you whole and you wanted to let it. You wanted to give into it and let it take all that you were. Maybe it would be better that way. Easier. 

When your door clicks shut and you hear Rhys’ footsteps moving away from you, you allow yourself to fall apart. When the house goes silent you let out an anguished cry loud enough to almost shake the whole mountain. Life wasn’t supposed to happen this way. You were supposed to be overjoyed at being freed, not whatever this is. 

You feel as if you’re going to rip yourself apart, and for a moment you wish you would. You wish death would just come for you. You yearned for the sweet release that death would provide. Because at least then you might be able to find peace.

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @hnyclover @saltedcoffeescotch @queerqueenlynn @thelov3lybookworm @one-big-fangirl @witchymomfrien @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @maddybraps @minnieoo @mariahoedt @amara-moonlight @st0rmyt @annamariereads16 @hunterksmith @sleepylunarwolf @sh4nn @emryb @mikatanazaki @nickishadow139 @ilovespideyyy @mysticalfuncollectorus @judig92 @tele86

#acomaf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger

[nesta-is-my-queen]

An ACOTAR curiosity for the fandom:

Do you think SJM is aware of how many readers in this fandom critically analyze the characters and their actions?

Does SJM know people despise Rhysand for keeping the people of CoN locked up and letting the women there be sold as sex slaves or brides? For performative feminism by outlawing wing clipping in Illyria but not having punitive measures to back that up? For telling Feyre she always has choice but then withholding medical information about her pregnancy and how it may or may not be fatal for her?

Does SJM know people hold Feyre accountable for the destruction of the spring court—because Feyre purposefully destroyed it? Readers understand Tamlin’s role in it as well, but it was actually Feyre that led spring to its demise. That is collective punishment. Go after the high lord and the high lord alone if you wanted revenge on Tamlin for what he did, not after his people.

Does SJM know how much people hate Cassian for being written as a male who doesn’t publicly defend or side with his mate? And that he took her to forced “wilderness therapy” while she was having a mental health breakdown?

Does SJM know how much people despised Rhysand and Cassian after the Ember Randall bonus chapter??

Does SJM know how wrong it is to write about a queer character who was abused and essentially given a hysterectomy by being stabbed through the uterus and left to bleed out - and then have a male character sideline her story and say she isn’t telling the truth?? Especially when SJM wrote her powers as “truth”?

On a lesser note, does SJM know people have the ick for Azriel after the necklace scene?

Idk… sometimes I LOVE these books… I live for the world and the good parts… but then I remember all of this and I don’t know what to make of it all…

What do you think?

#anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti feyre #morrigan #eris vanserra #acotar #acosf #fantasy #sjm #sjm books #sjm fandom #pro nesta #sjm universe #nesta supremacy #nesta x cassian #cassian #sjmaas

[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.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁✩ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☽ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☽ ݁⟡ ݁⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☽ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

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

[b0xerdancer-writes]

The Heir of Spring

Tamlin x Archeron!Reader

Summary: When one of Feyre's sisters' stabs Tamlin in the arm, the male took a strange liking to her, he had hoped she had been the one to kill the wolf he could love her ferocity; only she wasn't but she tracked Feyre through the woods and into the Fae realms to show up on Tamlin's doorstep. The rest is history as the two fall in love and start their own family.

Prompt: Heir Of Spring

Warnings: War, violence, blood, family disagreements, feyre and rhys slander, nesta and elain slander kind of.

Word Count: 5,402

Notes: A bit smaller but a good start to Tamlin week, this may be a thing I revisit and do a prologue or multiple parts to delving more into their day to day and relationships since this is cannon divergent and kind of an AU of what if the Spring Court didn't fall. And I felt Tamlin needed some character growth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Archeron sisters had become powerful figures before the Hybern war. The oldest a figment of death herself, The next an oracle with powerful visions, the next imbued with the powers of dryads and nymphs, and the youngest a curse breaker with a touch of every court in her blood.

Stories were told of the four sisters, how the youngest was putting her life on the line for the other three but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth; Feyre knew it but wouldn’t speak in favor of the male that had once locked her within the halls of his estate and the sister she had become estranged with.

When Feyre had first been taken to Prythian she had enjoyed Rosehall however boring it seemed to her, she had been warned about the dangers that lurked between her and her home.  She had been taken aback  when a loud pounding came from the door that startled both Tamlin and Lucien, Tamlin was the first at the door Lucien and herself behind the blonde male. The sister who would later be known as ‘The Dryad’ stood at the door of Rosehall, dressed in hunting furs and bloody, a head from something Feyre would only ever see in her nightmares in her hands. They had different mothers but had bonded together over their years, her mother had been a servant in the Archeron household who had been coerced into sleeping with the master of the house yet she had some of the strongest willpower around and had spent her time in the forests around their home; it paid off now in their young adult years, she had tracked many things for Feyre during Spring when mud would hide tracks.

Tamlin was stunned, that he would admit, at how this small female human had fought her way through the woods, found her way through the wall, and had fought her way to Rosehall; and by the looks of it she had taken out a naga on her own relatively recently from the scent. Tamlin was even more stunned when she tossed the head at his feet, blood splattered on his boots.

“I killed it, I hate the fae  and I murdered one in cold blood. It didnt attack me and gave me no reason to murder it, just like my sister. Now you have to take me in too.” She had growled at the blonde male.

“You took out a naga?” Tamlin asked and she nodded. “By yourself?” She nodded again. “On my property?” She nodded again. “In my court?” Tamlin gaped. 

“Okay then Rosebud, you are free to stay here. We were just having breakfast and I’m sure you must be hungry after a fight with a naga, so feel free to eat up. I’ll have the maids make you a room and then you are free to bathe if you wish, make yourself at home dear.” Tamlin had been truly impressed by the female in front of him, taken with her he would even admit.

She had raised her head high and waltzed right past Tamlin and Lucien only to nod at her sister in greeting. “Feyre, good to see you again.”

Feyre gawked. “What are you doing here?” 

“Originally I came to save you from the jaws of a best but now I refuse to let you go through this alone.” The older female had stated matter of factly and waltzed into the dining room, Feyre at her heels.

When the two female disappeared from their view Lucien had turned to his blonde counterpart with a questioning look on his face. “Tam, pardon me for questioning you, but WHAT WAS THAT.” He whisper-screamed at the blonde.

Tamlin shrugged a smug look on his face. “I like that one, she's the one I was the one who killed Andras. She's the one I told you about.” 

Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That's the one that stabbed you with the ash dagger in your arm.” 

Tamlin nodded. “Correct however you forgot the other part of it.”

Lucien sighed, already done with Tamlin’s own antics for the day. “My apologies, correction the one that stabbed you in the arm with an ash dagger and made you 99% sure she's your mate.” 

Tamlin gave Lucien an offended look. “I’m not crazy Lucien.  I barged into their house, completely smashed the door from its hinges, mind you, and her first instinct was to leap over a couch at me and put herself between me and her family and stab me in the arm to pull my attention to her…”

Lucien sighed and cut the older male off. “And when you did look at her you felt something similar to how the bind is rumored to feel, just dampened. I get it Tam, maybe it's just dampened because she's human?”

Tamlin nodded. “Maybe. I will just have to wait and see then.” Tamlin motioned to the dining room. “Shall we?” 

Luicen snorted and started back towards the dining room, Tamlin turned and kicked the head out into his yard. Lucien was leaning smugly against the dining room door frame obviously trying to fight laughter and Tamlin found out why when he entered the dining room to find his Rosebud in his chair chowing down on the plate of bacon and pancakes he had compiled earlier before her interruption. Tamlin couldn’t be mad though, he found it adorable and he had rightly invited her into his home and to his table.

He cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention in the room, he sent a wink towards the female in his spot and with a snap of his fingers the table added another sitting and he took his place across from the spiteful, strong willed female.

+

The two were a hilarious picture to Lucien, and he was sure to the mother as well if she truly did design them to be together. They were out in the meadows and she was in his face over something and Tamlin looked like a hurt puppy, Feyre had refused to join but her sister was adamant exploring her ‘prison’ as she called it.

Lucien was leaning against a tree, nose in a good book when he had heard their argument cease, he looked up just ws Tamlin was about to say something and the female with a bored expression on her face; without fail he watched Tamlin point to the moon pool beside them and her just shove the blonde male into it. Lucien had busted out into laughter and she pointed at him and then back at the lake; he raised his hands in surrender ,set his book down, and kicked off his boots. He had stepped up to her, and just as she reached out to shove him in he threw her straight into the water instead. When she finally dragged herself from the water with a pout she had pushed Lucien back in on top of Tamlin; the two males proceeded to race her back to the manor that evening after their clothes had dried, Tamlin had let her win of course by insisting she take the fastest horse. 

+

When Rhysand had appeared the evening at the manor, Tamlin had put her under a glamor and had her behind his chair, she had clutched the same dagger she had stabbed Tamlin with tightly in her right hand and leveled her breathing, when Rhysand had found Feyre and grabbed her by her chin Tamlin had shot her a glare, still hidden under the blondes glamor, for some reason she knew what that look meant. 

‘Stay hidden.’ He begged her silently in that look. ‘Don’t stab him. It will be okay.’

She had understood and focused on her breathing not giving herself away, Tamlin had put himself between her and Rhys and she found herself clutching the back of his shirt to calm herself; after the gloomy male had left she had leaned against the blonde male while catching her breath.

It had been that night after Feyre and Lucien had gone to bed that she slipped from her own room, it was grand and only one other door shared the hall with hers; the room across from hers was Tamlin’s, she knew that much for sure, as she had heard his steps and the door close late every night. She had never been a good sleeper, insomnia had haunted her since she was a child and the only thing that seemed to sooth it was nature; during the warmer seasons back home she could simply open a window but that was impossible in the winter and she had been so adjusted to her winter schedule it affected her more than normal. Any sane person, human or fae, would think her insomnia a side effect of the gloomy males appearance earlier; she didn't know quite what caused it but she did know Tamlin was affected by the same kind as her, every night just as exhaustion began she would hear Tamlin’s steps, heavy and slow, coming down the hall and disappear into his room. 

Except this time instead of his steps lulling her to sleep, they never came up the stairs so she fought off the exhaustion nipping at the edges of her consciousness and slipped down the halls into his study where he had disappeared after dinner.  No words were spoken as he looked up from the glass of whiskey and simply offered her her own glass, she had taken it with a nod; fire crackled in the hearth to her right and eventually Tamlin moved from his seat behind his desk to the one beside her, an unspoken understanding between them as he wrapped a fur tossed over the back of his chair over her. Eventually the two dragged themselves up the stairs and through the halls again, slipping into their rooms with a wave and nearly falling into their own beds, it was the start of an unspoken relationship and the first taste Tamlin had of who his mate truly was.

+

The night of calanmai had been rough, the drums and smoke called to her, she had always loved festivals and parties; and Tamlin had been cold and distant and his steps were not there to assure her everything was okay, surely he would be out all night and wouldn't care if she were to slip into his bed in search for some semblance of comfort. Tamlin’s silk sheets were cool against her skin and her own silk pajamas, she could only assume what Feyre was up to in her room; Tamlin had ordered them to stay here and as much as she wanted to disappear into the crowds of partying fae she refused, opting to cover her head with one of Tamlin’s pillows as a way to deafen herself from the calling music outside. Two mistakes had been made that night, one was Tamlin refusing to fully inform them about what Calanami was and two was the fact she had deafened herself and didnt hear those steps she had familiarized herself with coming up the stairs.

Tamlin was completely exhausted and disgusted by Calanmai, he was sure of it now, or at least that last sane part of his brain tonight was, that she was his mate; every maiden’s scent disgusted him and he had even smelled Feyre’s there it was similar to the one he wished had been there but different enough he had no urge to chase after it, he'd had an altercation with Feyre on his way back into the manor but was able to restrain himself at the thought of his mates smell lingering in the halls. It was her he wanted, not her little sister.

Tamlin wanted to just bathe and collapse into bed, his mind in a fog due to the mix of lingering magic and his senses beginning to clear. Yet when he finally clambered his way up the stairs he found himself confused that his door was cracked and a faint lamp light seeped out into the hallway, he was confident he had closed the door and shut off his lamps. He stepped into his room looking everything over and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of his female curled up in his bed, he didn't want to wake her and ruin the sight in front of him; he cursed and tiptoed into the attached bathing room, to him he still stunk if the female he had given unto his instincts with and didn’t want to disturb or disgust the female fast asleep in his bed.

His brain was on autopilot, a mix of hormones, instincts, and the slightest bit of control he did have. He scrubbed his skin raw until every inch of paint and any trace of the females that were throwing themselves at him was gone, he finally slipped into cotton trousers with a groan; he briefly debated going across the hall into her room to sleep but a warm bed and the female in it was calling to him. Surely if she had sought him out like this she wouldn't mind him sleeping in hisnown bed beside her, after all they both had made a habit of checking on the other before falling asleep now. He tucked himself into the silk sheets beside her and sighed as she curled into him, the comfort of her being there surely was the determining factor in his muscles finally  relaxing and letting him fall asleep seamlessly.

All that had been spoken between the two the next morning was a simple exchange of “you okay?” and “yeah. You?” And a nod of her head. 

Nothing was said when they both appeared for breakfast, Lucien seemed content at poking fun at Feyre for a bruised wrist and the nearly erotic interactions she had at the festival last night before Lucien finally escorted her back to the manor; Her sister had simply shook her head at Feyre when she found out the younger female had snuck out despite being told to stay.

Other than that everything had stayed relatively uneventful, the two continued their evening drinks and then would climb the stairs together to collapse into their own beds; but it had been just the start they needed.

The next time anything eventful happened was when she and Feyre had been sent back to their home, she had put up a fight and it took knocking her out to get her in the carriage.

Tamlin had felt terrible hurting his Rosebud like that, he knew she didn’t want to leave Rosehall and it hurt him to have to knock her out just to keep her safe. She had locked herself inside her room, refusing to come down and eat; she became a ghost. She wouldn’t admit to it but Tamlin’s presence had calmed her and had offered a strange kind of presence that left a lot of emptiness and longing there, She would only ever leave her room late at night after everyone else had gone to bed and she would sit in the garden across from the rose bushes remembering her late night meetings with Tamlin; she never once noticed Feyre’s absence within the walls of the home she occupied.

She stayed out of Nesta and Elain’s ways and kept out of their business, until a loud knock came at her door. She opened it with a growl in her throat ready to scream about leaving her alone, only Feyre greets her at the door but yet she is now fae like Tamlin; her eyes scanned over the sharpened features and pointed ears, a frown comes over her face as she furrows her brows.

“Sister, before you say anything let me explain.” Feyre begged, pushing her way into the room and closing the door behind her.

The older female shrugged sarcastically. “Well I have no other option since you pushed your way in here, explain away.”

“I don’t wish for you to be mad at me.” Feyre pleaded.

“I have a feeling I am going to anyways, no matter what you say that is not a promise I can make to you right now.” The older snapped, venom in her words.

The two sat down opposite each other on the padded couches she had tucked into the corner of her room, Feyre explained everything that had happened and begged her to help them with the mortal queens that would be meeting with them soon. That it might be good for her, she needed to get out of this funk anyways because Tamlin was jot a good male; Feyre insisted it and the older female felt her blood pounding in her ears and behind her eyes.

“Don’t you dare slander him like that, he only did what he had to to protect us Feyre, don’t start with me on this.” The older female growled.

“I'm telling you sister he is a bad male and I need you to put whatever feelings you have behind you and help us with this. You were there in Prythian too, you can speak on the matters that happened there.” Feyre begged.

“I will be down for dinner to meet these males you speak so highly of. I will think about your offer. I promise you nothing.” She hissed back at Feyre, pushing her younger sister from the room and shutting the door with a loud bang.

She dragged herself into the attached bathing room, contemplating ways to truly anger her sister for how she had spoken about a male she could tell was truly broken.  She scrubbed herself with floral scents, dressed herself in the same greens Tamlin had worn, and then slipped one of the roses she had brought up from the late nights in the garden into her hair; a sign of who she was truly loyal too, she didn't see Feyre’s disdain for the blonde male she only saw the fact he tried to protect them.

She had joined the group in the kitchen, Feyre had given her a sad dejected look upon her arrival to the dining room table, she made no talk with the males around the table even when they attempted to reason or talk with her.

Eventually she stood, after she’d had enough of their insults and turned to address Feyre. “I will not be supporting you this time little sister, you insult my family and those I love then turn around and expect me to bend to your every whim? Well I will not be bending for you this time. Find your own way, Cursebreaker.” 

She stepped out into the gardens to lose herself amongst the Roses she had helped Elain plant, a stone bench with heads of beasts carved into it greeted her; the only place she felt she could truly relax when her mind was racing, the beasts on the bench had reminded her of Tamlin’s beast form. After she cooled off she would head back inside and curl into bed, hopefully she'd get some kind of sleep tonight.

+

Several weeks had passed, everything had returned to normal, the queens came and went but a loud noise of some sort had her sitting up in bed; her door was off its hinges and three males  filed into her room. She screamed and fought, but they gagged and bound her; eventually one of them had gotten tired of her thrashing and knocked her out.

+

When I came to, Elain was being pulled from a large pot, but Tamlin’s eyes never left my figure despite Feyre clinging to his arm and when he saw I was finally awake he made a subtle gesture to stay calm, his eyes held the same message they had the day Rhysand stormed into Rosehall: ‘don't fight, don't move, don't get hurt.’ 

I nodded back but tensed up as they dragged me forward. I rose to my feet, squared my shoulders, and shrugged off their grasp; stepping into the cauldron of my own free will. Just as I was about to submerge into the water I heard Tamlin call out for me, I felt his panic, felt every emotion he was feeling in my own chest and hoped he could feel my own thoughts and emotions; I took one last breath and let myself sink into the water, that enveloped me in a cool feeling that reminded of the breeze that floated across the Spring Court.

Inside the water, the cool black emptiness turned and twisted until I was greeted by a misshapen and abandoned version of Rosehall, inside a version of Tamlin that had clearly given up; it saddened me to see him in that, angered me to clearly see the cause: Feyre. The male she had chosen over Tamlin was towering over him, mocking him about Feyre destroying his court from the inside out. I couldn’t move, could only watch but then Rhys said something that had me thrashing against whatever invisible force held me in place.

“Too bad you listened to Feyre and that dumb little priestess instead of your mate. Maybe you wouldn’t have lost it all.” Rhysand had mocked. 

No. I wouldn't let him lose it all, I’d be there to protect him like he had me, like he had tried to do with Feyre. I fought against everything restraining me to reach out for Tamlin and Rhysand to put myself between them and from the ground a wall of thorns all angled at Rhysand’s throat grew, one wrong move could have had his head on a spike. Whatever seemed to hold me there disappeared and I clattered onto the familiar wooden flooring of Rosehall,  I rushed forward to Tamlin who called out my name; the thorns around Rhysand swarmed me instead and I screamed as they embedded themselves into my skin, it burned and I felt like my insides were being torn apart and reformed repeatedly, until one final crack had my vision going white and I attempted to reach out in Tamlin’s direction. Everything came rushing back to me as my hand made contact with the iron of the cauldron and I pulled myself back out, my body felt thinner yet heavier and all of my senses felt sharper; I stepped fully from the cauldron to find everyone staring at me and then Tamlin called my name desperately, my vision snapped to him and I rushed forward when everything was silenced by a blinding gold light and the feeling of belonging.

He had pulled me into his arms, faced me away from my sisters as they dragged Nesta under and he shrugged Feyre off. It was the first I had been able to take in my appearance, or at least a portion of it; where the vines had embedded themselves tattoos of swirling thorns made themselves at home with an occasional Rose in bloom or blooming  littered throughout the design. Bracelets weaved together of vine, woods, and ivy dangled from my wrists; the tattoos led towards my wrist and faded into black at my fingertips.

“How intriguing,” a voice called out from behind me and Tamlin’s grasp tightened around me. “She's high fae yes, but there is clearly something ancient in her blood the cauldron transformed; she's similar to a wood nymph but so very different I haven't seen a dryad for ages, I believed them extinct. How exceptional for the cauldron to give us this.” 

I felt a rumble begin in Tamlin’s chest and I tightened my own grasp on Tamlin. “Seems like the girl had fae blood in her veins somewhere Tamlin, appreciate that fact.”

The rest of the evening went by fast, I could barely remember it with my face buried in Tamlin’s chest. Nesta and Elain had tried to call me over to them but I simply shot them a glare. Eventually we returned to Rosehall, Lucien gave me a sympathetic nod while Feyre tried to cling onto Tamlin’s arm. She tried to play up how much she missed him, a lie, in fact it was all lies that fell out of her mouth; I had heard her ramble on and on about how much she was in love with Rhysand the day she brought them to our table, and it bothered me I wanted to say something but I was content in Tamlin’s arms as he carried me. 

He had brought me to my old room,  nothing had been touched beside the bed. “Sorry, I may have slept in the bed a couple times on sleepless nights.”

“You have nothing to apologize for Tamlin, but I have to ask you something.” I gave him a worried look.

“Of course Love.” He furrowed his brows. “What has you so concerned?”

“When I was in the cauldron, I saw something that I feel you should know though.” I clutched at the material of his shirt desperately.

“Of course love, what is it? What did you see?” Tamlin asked me with a concerned tone of voice.

“When I went under in the cauldron, I was here but not here, everything was torn apart and it looked abandoned. You were here down stairs in your study and Rhys was looming over you, he said something about how if only you had listened to me and not the priestess or Feyre. I have reason to believe the cauldron told me that for a reason Tamlin, I know for a fact the way Feyre is acting is a charade and that she completely despises you. She begged me to let go of the feelings I had for you and to listen to how terrible of a person you were when she came home to us as a fae.” I explained.

“Rhysand said something about how you'd lose it all, he… he was threatening you,” I looked to the ground and fusted the fabric of his tunic tighter in my hands. “I couldn’t stand for it. I- I reached out for you and then a wall of thorns was separating you and Rhysand and they were all pointing to Rhysands neck. And- and when I came out of the cauldron you called for me and then I looked at you and everything was glowing with a faint golden light and there was a throb in my chest-“ I was in the midst of rambling when Tamlin pulled me into a growl with a kiss.

“I'll send Feyre back to her court, and then me and you will consummate our mating bond and then will do this our way. Alright? Neither one of us will be left alone to lose it all as long as we have the other.” Tamlin assured me.

“Alright.” I nodded.

“Get cleaned up, I’m going to talk to your sister and send her back home. We can talk about consummating the bond later tonight.” Tamlin kissed my forehead and motioned to the attached bathroom.

+

The bond had been consummated over a cherry pie, and everything had been going alright; Feyre had frowned upon the fact I revealed her plan to Tamlin, she was even more bitter he had made me High Lady after he had refused her. The war came and went, I knew his plans of infiltrating Hybern and bringing the plans to the other High Lords; fuck, I had attended the meeting with him and fought with my sister over the venomous words she soit towards me and my mate. On the field I had caused massive damage, walls of thorns herded our enemies, tore them apart, and pulled them into the terrain below; I could cover large areas of terrain  and bend it to our whim. It had made enough of a difference and I believed my sister understood that, as she clutched her dead mate and Tamlin offered him a shred of his own magic after getting a nod from me. It would be the last thing I would do to support her.

+

After the war we spent a majority of our time repairing the Spring Court  that was until Lucien had made a comment about my scent being different which concerned Tamlin and led to an announcement of Spring Courts heir. Well I say ‘announcement’ but really we kept it under wraps from anyone but members of our court till the next High Lords meeting was called. Eris had been crowned after Beron had been assassinated by some leftover bane put into his drink; the assassin was never caught even though we all knew it had been a plot by Eris and his mother. Kallias had added Viv into our list of High Ladies and Helion had married Lucien’s mother. Come to find out Lucien was heir of the Day court and he had been trekking back and forth between Day and Spring to perform all of his duties.

Tamlin and I would be the last two to appear for the High Lords meeting, our son Alder on my hip; he was only two now but he had Tamlins golden hair and bright green eyes, you could make out his Dryad heritage though by the smokey black around his fingertips. Tamlin had offered to research my heritage with me to find out more about Dryads for me and our son.

Alder was fascinated by his Uncle Lulu, as he had taken to calling him, and started squirming in my arms the second he saw the ginger leaning against the entrance of his father’s home, His fox-like grin greeted us warmly. 

“Good to see you two again, and as always its great to see my little Alder!” Lucien took the small boy into his arms, offering him a small orb of light to play with.

Tamlin pulled me into his side, “We are going to announce it tonight but we are naming him heir.”

Lucien snorted. “Do you really have to name him heir? He's your only one so far so no one will contest it anyways.” 

Tamlin and I exchanged looks and Lucien glared at us. “Right?”

“Actually, that's part of why we were announcing it tonight.” I started but Lucien interrupted.

“Oh by the mother! You’re having another!” Lucien exclaimed. 

Tamlin and I nodded equally as excited. “We better get in there, though I'm sure they can excuse us for the lateness due to Alder refusing to get dressed into nicer clothes.”

Lucien snorted and passed Alder back to Tamlin. “Then let's get in there, shall we?” 

+

The meeting went extremely well, all the other courts were excited to welcome Alder as the heir of spring and happily congratulated us on the other arrival that would be coming soon. 

I had introduced Alder to Feyre, Rhys and the rest of the inner circle out of duty and not respect. “This is Feyre and Rhys, they are the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, the northernmost point of Prythian.”

Alder furrowed his brows and reached for Tamlin over my shoulder, he swept him away while he conversed with Eris and Lucien. 

“Sister-“ Feyre had started.

“Don’t” I hissed at her, Nesta and Elain backing her up. “You have no right to call me that after what you tried to do to my mate. The last kind act you received from me was the war. Be happy Feyre, but it won't be with me in your life. If you wish to show up Tamlin is throwing a party for Alder’s birthday, he's naming him as heir publicly there.”

I turned from her and  joined back at my mates side, Tamlin had grown since I first met him for sure; he was a good male, a good dad, he was ecstatic about training his children, and he was passionate about his court. I had seen him grow since his heir was born, there had been many a night where Tamlin would ramble on about all the stuff he couldn’t wait to show Alder about his court. He was so ecstatic to have Alder that he had gotten a small golden crown forged for him that was a duplicate to Tamlin’s. 

I was proud of the male I loved, he had come so far and I couldn’t have asked for a better life with him. I just had one last puzzle to figure out: How to tell him I was pregnant with twins, and there would be three children running around Rosehall soon enough.

Taglist: @tamlinweek

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #tamlin #tamlin acotar #tamlin x reader

[readychilledwine]

Lost Bonds pt 3

Summary - After the second war, an unexpected bond with Y/n Archeron, and repairing all he's lost, Tamlin is shocked with news from the very female Rhys has been protecting from him.

Warnings- alcohol use, implied affair,implied smut, sex magic/sex pollen

A/n- Everything will be explained to y/n and wrapped in a mostly pretty bow in Part 4 on Tuesday 💚

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 4

Tamlin sat in silence, nursing hard alcohol as Rhys reappeared before him hours later. “It explains a lot,” Rhysand said softly as he sat. Tamlin pushed the Winter Court Scotch Rhysand's way. “I swear we didn't know, Tamlin.”

“So Feyre admitted it?” Rhys nodded, staring into the bonfire Tamlin had going. “She's not truly happy anymore, Rhys.”

“We know. She hasn't been happy since she watched Cassian and Nesta fall in love and their mating bond grow, then Lucien and Elain, then Amren and Varian, Eris and his wife. Mor and Emerie.” The High Lord threw back a heavy drink. “Then Azriel found his mate. And now she feels like she's an obstacle to his happiness, he feels she's a burden but refuses to let her go. He wants both."

Tamlin hummed, ignoring the flaring anger at the idea of his mate being treated like a second choice, like a burden. “How did she end up in Spring?”

Rhys sighed and looked down. “She wanted to get away from Azriel. They had gotten into a fight while he was training her. She wanted to go somewhere she'd be loved and safe unconditionally.”

Rhys paused, eyes locked on the stars. “It's funny, you know, Feyre painted their dresser drawers to fit their personalities and they've predicted their mates too.” He drank heavily again, eyes watering slightly. “Feyre painted the night sky on hers and became the stars eternal. Nesta's was bathed in flames so red the closest match we could find to recreate the dresser was Cassian's siphons, and we watched that scene during the war with that so called God, silver flames blazing and reflecting the red of my brother's armor. Elain's danced with sunlight and flowers. Her and Lucien the heir of the fucking Day Court,” Tamlin couldn't help the laugh that came with that sentence, nor could Rhys. “They live in Helion's largest garden in a cabin.”

“And y/n?” 

“A raging storm and blooming trees.” 

“And yet you all keep her there. Where she isn't destined by the Mother to be and where she is screaming for freedom.”

“Feyre isn't prepared to forgive nor forget.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes, purposely pushing every moment he had done something to make up for what he had done into Rhysand's mind. “I believe I have more than atoned for my sins against the female that started this all on a lie. The female who ended my curse should have been my mate, Rhys. That's why I fought so hard. Why I protected her even if my methods were ideas from my father and blind trauma. Did you not explain that to her?"

Rhys avoided answering, torn between the part of him that knew Tamlin was correct and the mating bond screaming to protect and defend inside of him. “I'll start sending her to you as an emissary. If the bond snaps on her end, we go from there. And Tamlin,” the High lord took his former friend's chin into his face. “Be grateful. Be grateful you didn't hear y/n's neck snap, that you didn't watch her be tortured for 3 months. That-”

“I watched the woman I loved go through all of that. Then I watched my mate be forced into an ancient world creating pot because i trusted the wrong female,” Tamlin took back the Scotch, drinking enough to burn his throat. “I think we understand each other more than you are willing to believe.”

Rhys nodded, looking away. “Y/n likes her bed made with 3 blankets so she can sleep with the window open at all times. She thinks white flowers are the prettiest. She likes chocolate way too much for a normal person.” 

Rhysand's jaw tightened before he continued. “Do you remember how my sister use to scrunch her nose really hard when she was thinking?” 

Tamlin chuckled softly into his hand, picturing her little face so clearly. “Y/n does the same thing.” It was a quiet confession, one that could have came with an apology, but the two of them has accepted the words “I'm sorry” would never be passed between them many years ago. 

“So you've kept her from me because she reminds you of Stella?” Rhys just nodded before winnowing away. 

Tamlin felt his lip twitch when you first appeared two months later. Rhys was either stupid, or fatherhood had made the male forget to look at a calendar. You were here for a 3 day weekend visit to discuss trade between Spring and the Night Court. 

A 3 day weekend that fell on Calanmai. Tamlin was shaking as he led you to the chambers he had built just for you. Chambers his Lady would reside in when or if they were choosing to sleep in separate beds. 

He realized he would have to keep you in the manor tonight, but excluding a guest from a court's most important holiday was considered a major offense. He thought about calling for Rhys, calling to remind him what today was, but he knew, at least he thought he did, that you would stay inside. It had worked with Feyre, after all. He had stopped searching for her when she wasn't easy to get to. Surely it would be the same for you. The magic would switch and call to another. He'd be able to ignore the scent of lilac, gooseberry, and fresh parchment.

He pushed open the door and watched your face with a deep breath held in his chest. “Tamlin, this room is too nice. This is clearly meant for someone with high standing. It's across from yours, I can't-”

“These are guest quarters for a high-ranking guest,” the lie came so smoothly. “You are a high-ranking guest. Get settled. I'll have a handmaid come get you for tea.” He shut the door behind you, going back to preparations and letting the kitchen know he needed tea made. 

Your guest room was fit for a queen, not a guest. A large walk-in closet sat willed with dresses, an island in the middle with drawers for jewelry. A standing mirror with ornate patterns of florals and vines sat unused, untouched. The bed was massive, possibly larger than the one you shared with Azriel, and it had soft satin sage green sheets, a fur throwing blanket lining the foot. 4 posts came off the bed, a light cream colored fabric and curtains creating a canopy and optional privacy. A vanity sat, empty and waiting for its lady to fill it with oils and lotions. 

He had clearly put you in a Lady's quarters. A safe place for her to be away from her husband. Something you had asked Azriel for since his bond with Gwyn snapped, and you two had begun drifting apart. Something he continued to deny you as tensions grew between you two.

You entered the door opposite of the closet and felt your heart begin to dance. The bathroom was stunning. White and grey marbled floors, a sunk in tub large enough for two, accents of that same soft green and gold. It was what the tub overlooked that made your heart truly flutter, though. It overlooked a garden and the forest. Elain would have killed for this view, but instead, you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and you took it all into yourself. Hogging the moment and soaking in it.

Nightfall came quickly, and Tamlin had warned you of what would come. You had made the choice to stay inside even though a pang of jealousy reared its ugly head.

You had no claim to him. No ownership over his body, his choices. It didn't change the emotion, though, as you laid your hands over the edge of that tub and watched fire make shadows dance across the leaves. 

He had warned you that you may feel tugging, a pull urging you to come outside. He had asked that you ignore it, and Cauldron, you were trying. You were ignoring that growing warmth in your stomach, the haze setting into your mind. You tried to focus on thoughts of the fight you and Azriel would finish when you got home. Of the way you would crawl into a separate bed from your husband as soon as he fell asleep, still smelling like Gwyn. You tried to focus your thoughts on your marriage and how it was slowly crumbling below you after his actions. 

But those tugs were growing stronger, aching in your chest with desire and need. You jumped as the door to your room slammed open, and Tamlin growled. He seemed more beast than fae, mind lost in whatever this ritual had done to him. “Tamlin?”

Your voice shook him enough as he kneeled down in front if you, broad chest exposed and covered in swirling paint. “Y/n,” his voice was strained as he struggled to keep his eyes on your face. “Should have sent you back.” He was grounding out each syllable. “Fucking Rhysand.” 

You felt it again, a harsh tug on your chest before warmth and dedication flowed into your body. You gasped at how close it felt and his eyes grew wide. “You can feel it?”

“Feel what? That tug?”

He nodded almost desperate as he lifted you out of the water and searched for something. He came back with your robe, wrapping you in it before trying to lead you somewhere. “Tamlin, where are we going?”

“The Cave.” His voice wasn't his own, but another tug came. That ancient echo spoke again, making you shiver.. “I won't allow this vessel to settle for less than his mate.” 

His mate. You almost froze, making whatever held Tamlin's body stop and throw you over his shoulder. “Close your eyes, and feel,” it commanded as it walked you out the front door. 

The cave was filled with the sounds of sex, the scent of magic, arousal, sweat. Tamlin laid you on a bed at the center of it, eyes blown with lust. You felt it then, that string binding your souls, holding you together like missing pieces to a puzzle. He was himself again now, looking down at you with hesitation. “I will let you go if you ask, little rose.”

Your body was humming, mind lost as your eyes began to water staring into his. “It's just mindless sex,” you repeated words you'd heard since Azriel's bond snapped. “It means nothing to you.”

Tamlin's brow knit, those green eyes aching with sorrow for you. “It means everything. You mean everything to me," and he crashed his lips down onto yours.

General Taglist:

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

@impossibelle @fxckmiup @applerubyy @awkardnerd @sleepylunarwolf @macimads @esposadomd @stormhearty

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin #tamlin x reader #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar

[arson-09]

Tamlin is actually such an underrated character in acotar. Because of feyres very biased narrative she forces readers to ignore the complexity of his character and man. its sad

Tamlin is a character who is genuinely GOOD at his core. He changed so much of the spring court for good, eliminating slavery within the spring lands and mortals having more protection. Hes a morally good character that made a few mistakes and is boiled down to just those mistakes. Locking feyre in the house and the magical/emotional blow up, which are both pretty decent fuck ups (i dont think siding with hybern fully counts as he was a double agent all along and tamlin was decently justified in thinking feyre was being kept against her will. lets be fr here) and even after he’s extremely fucked over by the nightcourt, his lands and court burned to shit, he still saves rhysand. Saves rhysand and tells feyre to be happy, even when he has every reason to NOT do that!

Hes a character that clearly holds himself to a higher standard. throughout acotar he puts lucien and feyres safety above his own, even sending feyre away when she was the only one who could save him. Even though what he did to her wasnt great its not completely irredeemable, rhysand did much worse things to feyre and other people but hes living his best life while Tamlin seems to find himself unworthy of being a person (acosf wheres hes been in beast form for roughly over two years) hes a perfectionist who now doesnt even think he deserves anyone because he accidentally hurt the people he loves most.

Sjm accidentally created a beautifully rich and morally righteous character who is so extremely fucked by the narrative. Which doesnt even work half the time as sjm cant seemingly commit to making him a full villain (seemingly by accident again she gave him quite a reasonable explanation to everything he did ‘wrong’ but still chooses to make him a punching bag)

If Tamlin was genuinely a morally evil character he wouldnt have NEARLY the amount of fans as he does. Hes a character that requires the minimum amount of media literacy and comprehension to understand and i LOVE him.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin #pro tamlin #sarah j maas #rhysand #sjm #anti rhysand #feyre #sjm critical #and most tamlin haters are so shallow #calling him tampon (which has so many misogynistic issues) is not the serve the girlies think it is #GOD hes so complex and its so good #i usually like the morally gray characters but this series writes them so poorly i go back around to loving the hero esq characters #tamlin has a certain ‘hero’ complex to him where he expects himself to save everyone and that its his duty #he said himself that hes only good for fighting and killing. he sees himself as subhuman or subfae whatever #and that level of self loathing/belief that others mean more than him makes him infinitely better than rhys or feyre #feyre and rhys are characters who are so full of themselves #obnoxious and hypocritical #i like feyre in the first book and basically dislike her in the rest of the series because she becomes so hypocritical and self obsessed #its 3am idk if this makes sense i just love tam :(

[olenvasynyt]

Feyre is a shitty friend to Lucien if she’s ever been a friend to him at all

This is going to be a long post and yeah I have made two tiktoks about this already and yes people got very mad at me but I’m going to post in on here anyways!!

In Chapter 3 of ACOWAR, Lucien says, “You are a better friend to me, Feyre, than I ever was to you.”

And I couldn't disagree more. This is just so so wrong.  I think Feyre has been such a shitty friend to Lucien if she’s even been a friend to him at all.

If you can’t handle criticism towards Feyre then just scroll past!  And I have so many things to say but Feyre being a shitty friend definitely starts in ACOWAR.  She’s constantly lying to him, making wrong assumptions about him, she uses him.

And I understand that is all for her plan to take down Spring; she can’t really tell anyone the truth because it’ll ruin her cover but a lot of the things she does concerning Lucien and how she’s his friend, are kind of fucked up.

Constantly lying to him and using him in Spring

Now I thought the nightmare scene with Feyre and Lucien was excellent and very entertaining to read but when you think about how Feyre is using Lucien, her “friend”, in a sexual way to get back at Tamlin and turning them against each other…it makes her a shitty friend.

Chapter 5 of ACOWAR: I waited the five minutes it took Tamlin to decide not to kill Lucien, and then smiled. I wondered if Lucien had pieced it together…  A nightmare, I had told Tamlin. I was the nightmare. Preying on what Tamlin had feared from my very first days here… I had no doubt Tamlin was now running through every look and conversation since then.  Every time Lucien had intervened on my behalf…weighing how much that new mating bond with Alain held sway over his friend…

And she continuously gets Lucien to touch her to goad Tamlin’s jealousy and also Ianthe’s jealousy.  She does it very often while they’re in Spring: an example is when they sleep in the tent together.  They basically end up cuddling each other and Jurian sees.  And though it wasn’t on purpose, Feyre thinks about how it would be perfect if that got to Tamlin.  

Chapter 6: I’d rolled onto Lucien’s bedroll at some point, any schemes indeed second to my most pressing demand—warmth.  But I had no doubt Jurian would tuck away the information to throw in Tamlin’s face when we returned: we’d shared a tent, and had been very cozy upon awakening.

She is using him.  She admits it when we get to the scene with Ianthe SAing Lucien.

Why she saved Lucien from Ianthe

And getting to this point soon:  

So in an earlier conversation they have, Lucien talks about how he did the rite in Tamlin’s place and he completed it with Ianthe.  Feyre can see that lines were blurred.  Ianthe had continuously sought Lucien and she got what she wanted.  And Feyre says she should have been there to stop it.

Chapter 3 of ACOWAR: He might have completed the Great Rite with Ianthe of his own free will, but he certainly hadn’t enjoyed it.  Some line had been blurred—badly… The weight of that jeweled knife and belt seemed to grow.  “I wish I had been there to stop it.  I should have been there to stop it.”  I meant every word. Lucien squeezed our linked arms as we rounded a head, the house rising up before us.  “You are a better friend to me, Feyre,” he said quietly, “than I ever was to you.”

And this brings in the quote I brought up in the beginning. ANd I will make a whole separate post on Lucien’s inaction in ACOMAF but what he says just tells me that he feels guilty for not doing enough to help Feyre with Tamlin locking her up.

Feyre said she should have been there to stop it.  Alright well, when the time came and she was given an opportunity to stop Ianthe, Feyre was thinking about how she could keep going and just leave Ianthe to SA Lucien and let it happen.  She is going against her word.  and that makes her a hypocrite and terrible friend.  

Chapter 9: Keep going.  They were distracted, horrible as it was. Keep going, keep going, keep going. “I thought you’d seek me out after the Rite,” Ianthe purred.  They couldn’t be more than thirty feet through the trees.  Far enough away not to hear my presence, if I was quiet enough.

And Feyre realizes that her using Lucien was a bad move, so Feyre’s guilt encourages her to save Lucien not out of any genuine friendship. 

“You don’t act that way with Feyre.” A silk-wrapped threat. “You’re mistaken.” “Am I?” Twigs and leaves crunched, as if she was circling him.  “You put your hands all over her.” I had done my job too well, provoked her jealousy too much with every instance I’d found ways to get Lucien to touch me in her presence, in Tamlin’s presence.

But another thing that causes her to save him is because this moment reminds her of when Ianthe assaulted Rhys.

I made it about a hundred yards into the cover of the trees before I halted. I heard Lucien first. “Back off” A low female laugh. Everything in me went still and cold at that sound.  I’d heard it once before—in Rhysand’s memory.

and Lucien saying “do not touch me” is exactly what Rhys says and this is what pulls Feyre out of her plans to keep going and save him instead.  

Chapter 21 of ACOMAF: Rhys learned close to breathe in her ear, “don’t you ever touch me.  Don’t ever touch another male in my court.”

Chapter 9 of ACOWAR: “Do not touch me,” he growled. And then I was moving.

This moment is echoing Ianthe going after Rhys, from the way Ianthe acts to the hand-breaking situation because Feyre was replicating what Rhys did to Ianthe’s hand.  And in my opinion, Feyre breaking her hand was not only revenge for Lucien but also revenge for Rhys.  And that’s not inherently bad but Feyre is not saving Lucien because she’s a good friend and she cares for his well-being.  If that were true, she would have never thought of leaving him to get SAed by her in the first place.

Not trusting him, questioning his priorities 

When they’re traveling through Autumn she continues to not trust him, she continues to make assumptions about him and assume the worst.  She questions his priorities when it comes to Elain and assumes that he’s only coming along to get what he’s owed.  But then she wants him to have sympathy for her and Rhys as mates.  It’s just very one-sided.

Chapter 12: “You kissed Under the Mountain.” “I had little choice in that as I did with the dancing.” “And yet this is the male you now love.” “He didn’t know—he had no inkling of the personal history, the secrets, that had opened my heart to the High Lord of the Night Court.  They were not my stories to tell. “One would think, Lucien, that you’d be glad I fell in love with my mate, given that you’re in the same situation Rhys was in six months ago.”

Compare this to Chapter 11:

“And that’s why you’re here.  Not because it’s right and he’s always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you’re owed.” “She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands—“

So Rhys and Lucien were in the same situation: both had their mates in their enemy’s hands and want to keep them safe.  Was Rhys only getting what he thought he was owed as well?  No.  So why can’t Feyre offer the same courtesy?

Again, ready to abandon him in Spring

And there’s literally a part when they're running in Autumn where Lucien basically asks “are you actually my friend?” and Feyre doesn’t answer.  

Chapter 11: “You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned?  Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply of fear of what it might do to [Elain]?” I didn’t answer.  “Well?  What was your grand plan for me before Ianthe interfered?” I pulled at a stray thread in the bedroll.  “You would have been fine,” was all I said.

To actually answer your question, Lucien: she wasn’t planning on sparing you.  She used you and was ready to leave you.

Lucien is a bigger man than me because I would have probably yelled in her face.

Again, uses him to get revenge against Tamlin

Also when he asks her where he’ll fit in in the NC,she thinks about how she would only offer him the position to keep Elain from Spring and to get back at Tamlin.

Chapter 12: “And where, exactly, do you believe I will fit in?  The Night Court? I didn’t answer.  I didn’t have one, honestly.  As High Lady I could likely offer him a position, if we survived long enough to make it home.  I’d do it mostly to keep Elain from ever going to the Spring Court, but I had little doubt Lucien would be able to hold his own against my friends.  And some small, horrible part of me enjoyed the thought of taking one more thing away from Tamlin, something vital, something essential. “We should leave at down,” was my only reply.

Lucien is vital, but not because of his talents as an emissary and how he would benefit the Night Court.  It’s because Tamlin wouldn’t have an emissary.

Feyre just lies to him and assumes stuff and uses him…overall, she’s just such a selfish friend and I’m fairly sure that she doesn’t even consider Lucien her friend at this part, despite several things that would go against that.  Lucien seems to consider or had considered her a friend.  

And then I got a part two because there’s just more things.

Being unwelcome when they get to Night

And now we are getting to one of my biggest gripes with Feyre.  When they get back to the Night Court she has the reunion with Rhys.  They almost immediately go off and have sex and sure, I get it: they’re mates, they haven’t seen each other in a while, they didn’t know if they would ever see each other again.  It’s very emotional.  But when they are done having sex, Feyre goes down and sees Lucien in the sitting room, still in his dirty clothes.  Feyre thinks about how she should offer him something…but then the thought vanishes as soon as Rhys steps to her side.

Chapter 15: “Lucien was waiting in the sitting room when Rhus and I came downstairs at last… I fought my cringe as I halted at the threshold.  Lucien was still in his travel-worn, filthy clothes.  His face and hands, at least, were clean, but…I should have gotten him something else.  Remembered to offer him— The thought rippled away into nothing as Rhys appeared at my side.

FEYRE.  You literally just finished fucking him and putting on your wedding rings, stop thinking of Rhys and offer your “friend” some clean clothes, a bath, SOMETHING!!!!  He has his face and hands washed probably because he washed them in the fucking kitchen sink because he doesn’t know where the bathroom is because no one has given him a tour and they still don’t give him a tour after this…

This is infuriating to me.  So infuriating.  It’s not only being a shitty friend but also a shitty hostess.

And then they have their talk where they explain everything to him, Lucien finally understands what has been going on, he knows that Rhys has been wearing a mask the whole time and that the NC is good…and then he is finally offered clothes and a bath.  By fucking Rhys too not by Feyre.

Chapter 16: “I assume you’ll need clothes,” Rhys went on, nodding toward Lucien’s filthy jacket and pants—which he’d worn for the past week while we scrambled through territories.  Indeed, that was…blood splattered in several spots.

Not communicating, having no important talks as friends or allies

And then the entire time Lucien is in Night, she does not try to have any meaningful talks besides the one where she and Rhys explain everything to him.  She often says it’s for another time.  But they never have any sort of conversation, even if it would just be beneficial as allies, if not friends.

There is a weird sort of mistrust for him. They not only don’t trust Lucien with Elain but also just information in general and this mistrust takes way too long to fade.  From a political standpoint, I get it: he is / was a close friend and courtier to Tamlin, they did ally with Hybern.    But Feyre acknowledges he was remorseful.  And when they’re in Spring he speaks up and tells Tamlin his mistrust and dislike towards allying with Hybern.  But Feyre just speaks over that.  

And I just don’t understand this mistrust with Elain and assuming he’ll steal her away, which is what Rhys implies.  

Chapter 19: “If he got Elain away, back to Spring or wherever…do you believe, deep down, that he wouldn’t sell what he knows?  Either for gain, or to ensure she stays safe?” I considered his question: Did I trust Lucien?  “I don’t know, either,” I admitted, and sighed.  “I don’t like that Elain is a pawn in this.” “Did he discuss what he feels regarding Tamlin?” “Non.  I didn’t want to push on that.  He was…remorseful about what happened with me, and Hybern, and Elain.  Would he have felt that way without Elain in the mix?  I don’t know—maybe.  I don’t think he would have left, though.”

But Lucien explained to Feyre that he hated how Elain was in an enemy’s hands and wanted to make sure she was okay and he knows now that the IC is good and she’s safe, but you still mistrust him?  You are just completely ignoring everything and thinking the worst of him, and as I said before, not offering him the same courtesy you want him to have for Rhys.

Also Elain is a pawn because you are making her a pawn.

Lucien has good intentions.  He wants to do good.    With Hybern, he has not only explains his dislike for allying with them before to her but he sneaks off and sent stuff to Nuan for research to find a preventative against faebane.   He goes to find Vassa to basically redeem himself, he says it was “about time he did something”.  

And about Elain: Lucien is not demanding to see her.  He literally just sits around on his ass and waits and is courteous.  There’s no malicious intent.  He is so kind and respectful.  And if you are so mistrustful towards him that you set up rules for him to follow, maybe just ask him.  Ask permission to look in his mind maybe?  

Feyre and Rhys and the IC have a set of morals that they follow sometimes but then choose not to follow when it conveniences them.  That is a whole other discussion in itself but literally so many things that went wrong with their friendship could have been solved if they actually talked and Feyre wanted to listen to him.  

When Lucien and Elain finally talk one-on-one and Feyre goes into his mind (again, out of mistrust), Feyre discovers that Lucien has no ill intentions.  Lucien didn’t even mean to find Elain there in the library.  He just wanted a walk and to get a book, he didn’t realize she was there, he did not intentionally seek her out and break Feyre’s rule, despite what Rhys says.

Chapter 24 of ACOWAR: He hadn’t expected her to be here.  The other sister—the viper—was a possibility, but one he was willing to risk…he’s been cooped up in this wind-blasted House for two days. He just wanted a walk—and a few books.  It had been an age since he’d ever had free time to read, let alone do so for pleasure. But there she was. His mate.

Getting jealous he has friends / the entire fight they have in ACOFAS

Feyre seemed to have redeveloped her affection for Lucien by the end of ACOWAR but it took way too long and she is still an ass even after everything he’s done for her and for the good of Prythian.  

In Frost and Starlight with their fight that causes him to leave before the Solstice…by fucking god.  I truly hate everything about this conversation.  Feyre is just so wildly frustrating.  I discussed it before so I feel like I don’t need to go a whole lot into it because I already ripped this scene apart word for word.

Chapter 18 of ACOFAS: I rose as well.  ‘But Jurian and Vassa’s is fine?’ ‘You’d be surprised to see how well the three of us get along.’ Friends, I realized.  They had somehow become his friends.  ‘So you would rather stay with them?’ ‘I’m not staying with them.  The manor is ours.’” ‘Interesting.’ His golden eye whirred.  ‘What is.’ Not feeling very festive at all, I said sharply, ‘That you now feel more comfortable with humans than with the High Fae.  If you ask me—‘ ‘I’m not.’ ‘It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without their homes of their own as well.’”

Lucien talks about how he and Vassa and Jurian have been getting closer and Feyre gets almost jealous that he has found friends and a life outside of the Night Court and the Inner Circle.

Of course he wanted to find other friends besides you, Feyre.  It’s not like you have welcomed him with open arms.

And then this quote: “It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without homes of their own as well.”

So you’re admitting that the Night Court isn’t his home?  That he’s not welcome here, he has no friends here?

And then she realizes she fucked up she tries to correct herself:

Chapter 18 of ACOFAS: “Lucien stared at me, long and hard.  ‘Happy Solstice to you, Feyre.’” He turned toward the foyer, but I grabbed his arm to halt him.  The corded muscle of his forearm shifted beneath the fine silk of the sapphire jacket, but he made no move to shake me off.  ‘I didn’t mean that.  You have a home here.  If you want it.’”

He doesn’t want it.  He talks about how he can’t go to Spring anymore not just to Tamlin but to the court outside of the manor because of how Feyre ripped down Spring.  Feyre shows no remorse for that.  And he also talks about how he can’t stand to be in Night around Elain.  He doesn’t feel welcome here for all of those reasons and from the fact that you are just the worst friend ever.  

And then she proceeds to make fun of the Band of Exiles and mock him despite the work they are doing for the land she used to live in as a human.  The Band of Exiles is a stupid name but Feyre doesn’t have a right to call it bullshit.

They have not had any meaningful conversations about their friendship.  They could sit down and actually talk about what happened like civil people, I think they both have to still fully admit where they were wrong and apologize for the mistakes they’ve made.  But Lucien seems to have already apologized more than Feyre ever will.  He apologizes, he says Feyre was a better friend than he was, he feels guilty, he says he needs to actually do something and he looks for redemption.  In ACOWAR when he is still in the Night Court, he has better manners than Feyre does, he apologizes and says thank you so many times.

And their fight in ACOFAS is basically the last thing we got of their friendship because he does come to the solstice party in Silver Flames which I am amazed by actually.  I feel like he is still holding on to Elain and his allyship (I’m going to call it allyship) with Feyre and the Inner Circle.  After everything she’s done to him, he’s still pushing through it.  And I think that makes him a better person than Feyre.  Strong opinion but.  Jesus.

I could go for even longer but I’ll stop and I’ll end by saying Lucien deserves better.

#lucien vanserra #lucien deserves better #pro elucien #pro lucien vanserra #anti feyre #anti inner circle #anti rhysand #acotar

[littlemisssatanist]

my acotar unpopular opinions

taking this time to come out as an acotar reader. yes i've read all the books and i've spent way too much time thinking about it. i enjoy the books in the sense that i enjoy hating on many of the characters and loving a few of the others.

be forewarned inner circle fans. you will not like this.

rhysand is not a 'morally grey' character. he's a rapist and a groomer. he sexually assaulted feyre utm, he groomed her (reminder that she was 19 in acotar), and he withheld important medical information from her. 'you'll always have a choice' my ass.

nesta telling feyre about her pregnancy was not a bad thing. why do people act like it is? 'oh she did it to hurt feyre' hurt her by doing what? revealing the lies that her beloved husband had woven? revealing the fact that she'd die giving birth? the fact that rhysand told literally everybody but feyre?

mor is not the champion for women everyone thinks she is. this i will give to sjm it is truly impressive to make a character like women and still be a pick me. i'm not even going to go into her whole weird ass relationship with her dad (i still don't understand why she wouldn't just kill him. 'oh rhys needed the army' rhys is supposed to be the most powerful high lord ever. either admit he's a fucking loser or give me an actual good reason for this) or the fact she's seemingly incapable of doing anything to help the women in the court of nightmares, but everytime she was mentioned, i had to let out a heavy sigh and rub my temples.

on a similar topic. i liked eris. like a lot. out of all the acotar characters sjm has written, eris is by far my favorite.

the inner circle needs to sit the fuck down. they are the most hypocritical bitches i've ever met. they like to think themselves high and mighty. reading them make fun of lucien's band of exiles while their name is literally 'court of dreamers' was the most infuriating thing ever. and then they have the gall to be insulted when called out. don't dish what you can't take.

out of all the inner circle, the only one i don't hate is azriel. this is simply because he is the only one who hasn't opened his big fat mouth and done something bad (except if you maybe count his whole thing with elain). cassian is on my hit list. it's on sight with cassian.

nessian is sjm's worst ship and i will stand by that. lucien/nesta could have been so much. 'nesta would have ripped lucien apart' and cassian was your first choice? not even azriel was considered? like be so for real right now. sjm didn't see the potential of lucien/nesta and i will forever mourn that.

sjm is a terrible writer. i'm not saying this to be mean but she seriously just sucks at it. that being said i admire her ability to still make millions of dollars off her shitty writing. as a woman, i am rooting for her. as a reader, every day i wake up a shoot a prayer to the heavens begging the gods to not let sjm write any more books from the inner circle's pov.

lucien/elain is better than azriel/elain. argue with the wall.

eris/azriel is better than azriel/elain. you can kiss my ass.

NESTA/ERIS IS BETTER THAN RHYSAND/FEYRE. i know this because i have been enlightened.

feyre is a victim to rhysand. that being said, she is also a major bitch. both can be true because these things are not mutually exclusive. i wish she could make friends outside of the ic like nesta did, but i know that's unlikely.

feyre's pregnancy storyline was completely useless and went against her whole character.

acomaf retconned everything about tamlin and feyre's relationship in order to make more money. idc.

tamlin gets a ridiculous amount of hate. rhysand is hypocritical. so tamlin locking feyre in a house because she wants to ride out with him into potential danger is terrible and abusive, but rhysand locking nesta in the house of wind for... *checks notes*... having sex and spending money on alcohol is helping her? what?

#anti rhysand #anti sjm #anti inner circle #anti acotar #rhysand critical #inner circle critical #acotar #acotar critical #pro nesta #anti nessian #pro eris vanserra #anti mor #this might be a controversial one

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day Thirty: Period Sex

Rhys x Female Reader

As Tamlin’s cousin, you never would’ve thought you’d ever leave the Spring Court.

The both of you were thick as thieves growing up, he was like your brother and you like his sister. Your father and Tamlin’s father were brothers. Being the younger one of the two, your father was his father’s right hand once he became High Lord.

During the war between faeries and humans 500 years ago, your parents died. So Tamlin’s parents took you in, they adopted you. Officially making you a Princess of Spring. Unexpectedly one night, you were in the library when you scented blood.

Making your way towards the bedrooms, you saw as your cousin and Rhysand became the new High Lords of their courts. Seeing the power shift into them, changing them. You let out a barely audible gasp, but they both heard. As soon as you and the new High Lord of Night locked eyes, the bond snapped.

Neither one of you said anything but you knew he felt it too. Then he winnowed away.

You never told anyone that he was your mate. Centuries passed and you avoided each other like the plague. Until the events Under the Mountain.

Rhys protected you as best he could. Did whatever he could to make you comfortable during those 49 years.

Once all of you were freed by your cousin’s made mate, Feyre. Tamlin and her winnowed back to the Spring Court. Lucien, your best friend was waiting for you to winnow back together, when he stopped you. You felt a talon scratching softly against your mental shields.

Dropping them enough only to let him in, he finally spoke mind to mind, “Come with me ?” Rhys’s voice was purr in your mind. “Soon-“ you promised “-I just need to talk to Tam.” He nodded his head, took a step back and then bowed at the waist. Rising back to his full height, giving you his signature smirk, he winnowed. Earning a scoff and an eye roll from Lucien, before the two of you winnowed back to Spring.

When you got back to the Spring Court you told Tamlin, Lucien and Feyre everything. They were all quiet as you spoke. Tamlin’s eyes finally met yours as you confessed, “The Spring Court is my home… or I thought it was. Under the mountain I found my real home in him. My mate. The High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand.”

Your cousin only nodded his head at your words before coming around his desk, to hug you. Holding you at arms length he finally spoke for the first time since you told him you had to talk to him about something important. “Go. Be happy, Sunshine.“ The use of your nickname given to you by your parents, making you sob into his chest like a child. “He waits for you. Just know you’ll always have a home and be welcome in Spring.”

That same night, you packed a couple of your things, then reached out to Rhys mentally. “Come to spring.”

You weren’t sure he got your message, until you felt his hand settle on your shoulder. Turning to look at him with red puffy eyes. Something flickered in his gaze, “Did Tamlin make you cry ?” You laughed in between sobs, “No, I’m just so happy.” His brows furrowed, then his gaze softened and his lips were on yours. “You’re coming home ?” He asked with hopeful eyes, you nodded your head.

Months had passed since you’d been mated and became High Lady of the Night Court.

You’d always felt a bit sick and tired a week before your cycle, among other symptoms. But you didn’t want to annoy or worry Rhys with something so trivial.

That’s why when he told you he’d be in Wind Haven for a couple days you told him you’d wait for him to come back, instead of joining him.

He was hesitant to leave you, noticing you were a bit off but he didn’t want to push you.

As soon as you heard the front door to the town house close you dragged yourself to the ensuite bathroom. You’d always hated this part of being fae. The cramps always had you doubled over, clutching your tummy, as you emptied its contents into the toilet bowl.

Forcing yourself to stand, to brush your teeth and then winnowing back into bed. You curled up in a ball under the blankets. Unaware that you were flooding the bond with how you felt.

Rhys nearly fell out of the sky as he felt an overwhelming pain come over him. Free falling for a couple seconds before landing roughly in the middle of the Illyrian forest floor covered in snow. He clutched his middle as he dry heaved. It took him a second to realize he was feeling your pain and discomfort. Winnowing back to you without a thought.

Mor, Cassian and Azriel had stayed in the townhouse the night before and heard you. All three of them had tried getting into Rhys and yours shared room to check on you, to no avail. You’d warded the room, being used to going through this on your own.

“Y/n !” Mor pounded on the door. “Please let me in !”

“We just want to help !” Cassian tried.

Azriel, “Open the door !”

So lost in the feeling of your discomfort, you hadn’t heard the front door slam shut.

Without a word Rhys walked through the townhouse, up the stairs to your shared room, breaking through the wards, getting to you.

He moved the blankets, caressing your flushed cheek, “Darling, why didn’t you tell me ?” He murmured.

All you could do was press your cheek further into his palm, as another cramp over took you, causing you to whimper and writhe in pain. Rhys huffed out a breath, “All right, that’s it.”

You heard his footsteps disappear into the bathroom and then water running.

He threw the blankets off of you and moved you to sit up right, pulling your night slip off of you. Then picking you up he carried you to the bathroom, placing you into the tub. The water was hot, soothing the cramps that riddled your body, relaxing the tension in your lower back.

“Mhm, thank you !” You whispered at Rhys. He was sitting on the edge of the tub peering down at you, reaching out to grab his hand, you tugged “Get in with me ?” He chuckled before taking his clothes off and you scooted forward so he’d fit.

Once he’s settled in he pulls you back against his chest, you grab one of his hands and place it over your tummy. The pressure always helps with cramps. You shift a bit and feel his length harden against your back,

“Sorry.” He mumbles.

You look at him over your shoulder, giggling, “Don’t be sorry.”

You try to ignore it but your hormones are so out of control and now all you want is Rhys. Behind you, you hear him scenting the air, no doubt scenting your arousal. Moving his freehand to play with your sore breasts, “Is this okay, darling ?” You nodded your head yes, then a moan escapes you as he starts tugging your sensitive nipples.

“Rhys ?” You utter breathlessly.

“Yes, darling ?” He rasps out.

“Touch me, please ?” The words die off on your tongue in a whimper as he trails his hand down your front, then starts rubbing tight circles over your clit.

You’re a mess of moans and shaky breaths as he continues playing with your sensitive cunt. He moves to slide his fingers into you but you grab his hand stopping him, “I’m bleeding.”

Rhys chuckles darkly before kissing you temple, “It’s not the first time I’ve had blood on my hands, princess. Let me help you feel good.”

Nodding your head as he slides his fingers into you, thrusting in and out of you. Curling them, making them hit that sweet spot, that has you crying out his name, “Rhys - Rhys!”

He places soft sensual kisses on your temple, neck and shoulders as one hand plays with your swollen breast. The other plunges in and out of you.

Breathing hitching as he picks up the pace, nails digging into his thick muscular thighs. His hand moves from your breast to your clit, pushing you over the edge, crying out his name - “Rhys !” - as you orgasm.

He kisses the top of your head, praising you, “Good girl.”

Still limp from your orgasm, he’s positions you so you’re straddling his lap, facing him. You’re shaking as he buries his cock into your aching cunt. “Shhh, baby. I got you.” He coos into your ear as he rubs his hand soothingly on your lower back. You melt into him as he rolls his hips, his cock massaging your sensitive walls.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhysand fanfic #rhysand high lord #rhysand smut #rhysand x reader #rhys #rhys acotar #rhys fanfic #rhys high lord #rhys smut #rhys x reader

[sirenpearldust]

Mating bond

What happens when you confess to you closest friend you have found your mate?

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Word count: 674

Warnings: angst, friends to lovers

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

‘Why? Truly what have I done to deserve this?’ Eris laughed mirthlessly questioning what he’d done to deserve such a fate.

As if being born into that damned family wasn’t enough the mother also tried to take the one he loved from him.

The only one keeping him sane after all these torturous years.

Struggling to comprehend what he’d just heard he rose from the leather chair he’d sat in. Sweeping back his hair he tried to keep his feelings under control, to not let the fire within him soar and burn the place down.

He was losing his mind.

His inner peace destroyed, fear begun seizing him.

Walking around the room aimlessly he tried to think of nothing - to forget what he’d just heard. Anything to not slip into the madness that seemed to call to him.

The dark abyss waiting for him to loose himself within.

Is that how father felt when he found out about his mother and Helion?

Tamlin about Feyre and Rhysand?

Their possessiveness suddenly made sense - their insanity too.

Tormented he faced one of the many big windows in his office seeking solace in the moonlight. Looking for solutions how he could prevent her from leaving him, of him taking her. He would give up his court for her. He would murder that bastard mate of hers like he had killed his own. He would do anything to keep her.

Watching him stood the woman he loved rooted in the place she confessed - unaware of his thoughts.

Clutching her red satin dress she tried fighting back her sobs while tears ran down her face. Anguish and rage filled her.

Had she destroyed her only chance of having him? Would he hate her as much as she hated herself? Would he have her even though she was bonded to the Night Courts Spymaster?

‘No’ he roared, whirling around, his blazing eyes locking onto hers.

This time will be different. I will be a better man.

Approaching her with determined strides, he tilted her chin up, softly wiping away her tears with his shaky hands. ‘You are mine! I will kill anyone that dares to take you from me. No mother damned bond will stop me from having you or that cursed mate of yours,’ he seethed.

She nodded offering him a tearful and wry smile. Hope filling her chest of him accepting her despite what she’d revealed.

Somewhat satisfied he released a shaky breath, resting his forehead against hers.

Afraid he might turn into his father he needed to remind himself that she loved him. That she would never betray him or leave him.

He wanted to be strong for her knowing traitorous thoughts and actions were the downfall of his parents marriage.

Sensing his inner turmoil she put her hands onto his in an attempt to calm him.

Locking eyes, she whispered softly ’Eris’.

Tears fell as he closed his eyes at her voice and his trembling lips betrayed a whimper,

‘ Please don’t leave me’, he pleaded.

Her eyes filled with terror, ‘I won’t ever leave you! I love you Eris!’, she cried this time not trying to be quiet.

Breathing hard he kissed her, putting everything he felt into the kiss hoping she would know of his feelings for her.

They both broke down, sinking to the floor by the sofa, devoid of their strength to stand.

Embracing one another tightly they sobbed.

‘Eris you are my soul. I can not breathe without you let alone dream of ever leaving you for a useless mate. You are the only one who loves me unconditionally, the one who never rejected any part of me. This will be just another obstacle we will overcome.’

She kissed his face, cradling him to her chest and rocking him gently.They continued exchanging tender whispers of their love.

Bathed in the dim office, only the moon and the stars bore witness to the moment of their tender love.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

#a court of thorns and roses #anti inner circle #anti azriel #sorry i still love him #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris angst #eris vandaddy #kinda #azriel angst #autumn court #night court #mating bond #helion spell cleaver #helion acotar #acotar

[yourejinx]

Undeniable Bonds

  Azriel x F. Reader

Warnings: angst, as per usual. Violence, mentions of blood, mentions of death, curse words. Not proof read.

word count: 4k+.

Author’s note: I’m sorry I’m so late with this. I don’t even know what to say anymore, thank you for keeping up with me. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

“It’s alright, just breathe,”

There’s warmth against my forehead, and the words are a soft breath against my skin. I feel like every bone in my body has locked me into place, a prison, and I can’t move, I can’t breathe. 

The dark pit that has opened in my gut threatens to devour me whole and I recognise its numbness. It’s beckoning me to let go, to embrace it. A gentle, soothing  touch at my back it’s the only thing that’s keeping me anchored to reality, red and gold it’s all I’ve been staring at for what feels like an eternity. 

“Easy, dove.”

Cassian. Cassian is here. He’s enveloped me with his wings into a cocoon, a shelter against the world, his forehead is pressed against mine and he keeps rubbing circles between my shoulderblades. Some distant sense of self is returning to me, barely enough for me to turn my head and look at him. Dark hazel eyes stare back at me and the similarity to that other pair of eyes makes it almost unbearable to keep looking at them, my chest aches and I want to pull away. But Cass holds firm, strong hands holding my arms as he inhales deeply, motioning me to follow. 

I took one pathetic shuddering breath, two. My racing heart started to slow down and cool air flowed to my lungs. 

“There you go…” He hummed. 

Once I’m settled back into myself and my limbs don’t feel nearly as stiff as before, he slowly pulls away, allowing me to take in my surroundings. We’ve moved to the balcony outside one of the guest rooms, somehow. When did he even show up?

“Rhys called me, and told me what happened. How are you feeling?” His voice was so full of concern.

I shook my head, how could I put it into words? Was this what he felt every time Nesta slept with someone else? Was this what Rhys felt while Feyre was still with Tamlin? I knew Azriel fancied Elain, and I knew it was reciprocated. So why did it hurt so much to see it now? 

“Cass, he’s my—”

Mate. The word burned on my tongue. I couldn’t pronounce it. 

With each time I thought about it, the word lost a bit more of its meaning. I damned the Cauldron and the Mother for mating us; it was supposed to be something special, something that didn’t happen to most Fae, and if it did you were one lucky bastard. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard. But for me? It meant nothing. The bond only brought me pain and unrequited feelings, unwanted feelings. 

“I know, Rhys knows too,” he whispered.  

“How?” I asked, blinking away the dampness in my eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter now, dove, I need to know if you’re going to be ok” His eyes 

were so gentle, so understanding. 

I swallowed dry and nodded slowly. I remembered then that Lucien was looking for me and guilt tripped up my spine. How was I supposed to tell him what I saw?

“Cass, where is Lucien?” 

“I told him you weren’t feeling right and sent him home. He left something for you.” Cassian handed me a carefully wrapped package. For the looks of it, it was either a box or a book.  

“I have to talk to him.” 

I tore open the envelope, it was an old beautiful book, brown and gold and red. “Myths of the world” read the title, the author unknown. I hadn’t seen anything like this before.  It didn’t belong to Prythian, this book came from the mortal lands. 

Lucien saw this book during one of his journeys, and thought of me. My heart felt heavy in my chest  just thinking about the hurt I was going to cause him by speaking the truth about tonight.

“You can’t tell him anything, Y/N;”  Cassian’s tone was considerate yet firm. I frowned. 

“If it was the other way around he would tell me, Cass. He’s my friend…” 

“I’m your friend too, and I understand, but I’m asking you to wait. Please, let Rhys handle this or it can get really messy.” 

“Things are already too messy.”

With trembling fingers I dive between the first pages, it was a little worn around the edges but well kept, surely a loved book. One  particularly page caught my attention, it had dedicatory written in very polished handletter: 

“I don’t know if there’s proof of other worlds coexisting out there, but I hope you may find exciting ones within these stories.” 

More often than not, Lucien caught me late at night curled around the fireplace, a blanket thrown lazily over my legs and nose buried deep in some book about portals to other worlds, myths and legends, the old history and so and so. That sort of thing that has always called to me since I was a kid, more than curiosity I felt a pull towards it, as if I could feel the history of the universe in my veins. I never told anyone about it before, it seemed silly, I didn’t have proof of anything, it was more like a sense of the otherworldly. I felt ancient and new, vast and empty, all at the same time. The last time I experienced something like that Feyre had still been pregnant with Nyx, I remember feeling like my mind had been split for a moment, allowing me to experience reality both through my own person and through someone or something else’s eyes. I ended up throwing up that night, and Azriel had found me passed out on the floor of the living room. No one asked any questions, but Lucien had noticed. 

I sighed and closed the book, returning my attention to the worried-looking Illyrian in front of me.  “He’ll hate me if he finds out and I knew all along. I can’t have him hate me, Cass.” 

I can’t have him hate me too. 

“He won’t hate you dove, that’s just impossible”.

I shook my head, “Can you just take me home please?” 

“Of course,” He didn’t hesitate to scoop me up in his arms and take to the skies. 

The wind whipped through the night sky as Cassian soared gracefully, his wings beating rhythmically against the air currents. Beside him, I clung tightly to his muscular frame, my grip tightened unconsciously with each passing moment. The journey back to the House of Wind was filled with a heavy silence, as I wrestled with the weight of my thoughts and emotions.

Finally, the grand structure came into view, perched majestically atop the cliffs. Cassian gently landed, his powerful wings folding behind him as he turned to face me. His cobalt eyes searched mine, brimming with concern and curiosity. He paused, probably sensing the turmoil underneath, and waited patiently for me to find the courage to speak.

With a heavy sigh, I took a step back and looked up at the towering residence. "Cassian," I started, voice tinged with a mix of determination and sadness, "I’m leaving the court. I've made a decision... I'm going to accept Helion's offer."

Cassian's brow furrowed, a mixture of surprise and worry crossing his features. He reached out, his hand finding mine in a reassuring grip. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. "You know the risks involved, the dangers that lie beyond our borders. The Night Court is your home, with friends who care for you."

My gaze followed the distant horizon, already feeling that curl of longing and uncertainty in my gut. "I understand the risks, Cass," I replied softly. "But I can't ignore the chance to make a difference, to find my own path and discover who I truly am, what I could do. I've always felt like I'm in the shadow of others, and maybe... maybe this is my opportunity to shine."

Cassian's grip on my hand tightened, his voice filled with earnestness. "You don't need to leave to find your purpose. You have friends here who believe in you, who will stand by your side no matter what. We can face the challenges together, as a family."

Tears welled in my eyes as conflicting emotions tugged at my heart. I wanted to believe in the strength of these bonds, in the safety and comfort of the Night Court. But a flicker of determination remained, whispering promises of self-discovery and growth. I looked back at Cassian, voice trembling but resolute. "I love you Cass, and I’m deeply grateful for everything the Night Court and all of you have given me, but I have to do this. Please understand."

Cassian's gaze softened, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that escaped my eye. He took a deep breath, his voice filled with unwavering support. "If this is truly what you want, then I won't stand in your way. But remember, you will always have a home in the Night Court, we will be here for you whenever you need us. And I can still kick Azriel’s ass for you."

He joked and a small smile broke through my lips despite the anguish. “I don’t want him to know, let’s just keep this between us for now, alright? I’ll tell Rhys tomorrow.” 

“Alright.” He whispered and brushed a kiss to my temple. 

We just stood there for a moment, embraced by the cool night breeze, letting all the events of the night sink in. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week later. 

The frozen landscape stretched endlessly before our eyes, a harsh and unforgiving terrain that mirrored the tensions between me and the Shadow Singer. The mission to track down the slavers had brought us to this desolate place, where the biting cold seemed to seep into our very souls. Yet, it was the icy atmosphere between us that threatened to shatter the fragile alliance.

We hadn’t spoken a word since last Solstice’s party, and I hadn’t seen him around either. I still couldn’t shake the weight of that awful look he gave me that night, it didn’t help that he looked on the verge of ripping my head off. I just didn’t understand, we were sort of alright at some point and then he just went back to hating me, as if some switch had gone off inside of him. 

As we trudged through the snow, our breath crystallizing in the frigid air, the silence grew heavy with unspoken accusations. I just couldn't bear the weight of Azriel's distrust any longer, it was making me anxious and angry. Whatever it was that got him so mad at me I didn’t deserve it, and we couldn’t keep working like that. 

With each step, the tension escalated, until it reached a breaking point. Finally, unable to contain my frustration, I turned to face him, my voice came out  laced with a mix of fury and hurt that I didn’t intend. "If you have something to say, just say it already and be done with this stupid silent treatment."

Azriel's expression hardened, his hazel eyes flashing with a mix of regret and stubbornness. "Why? so you can run and snitch to Rhys about it?"

My hands balled into fists, body trembling with indignation. "What the hell does that mean?” I hissed. 

“You know what it means. I seriously thought about giving you a chance, that I may have judged you wrong. Then I turn around and you pull the bullshit you did on Solstice. I didn’t think you could stood so low as to drag Elain into this mess.” 

“What bullshit? What are you even on about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, you called Rhys on us. Are you going to tell me that it was all a coincidence? That you just happened to walk right into the room I was in with Elain, and Rhysand followed you? I see the way you look at her, are you really that envious?”   

A humorless laugh escaped my lips, anger boiling in my veins. “Is this what got you so pissed? You are a bigger asshole than I thought. I didn’t even know you were in there, even less that you were with her. Do you think I give a fuck about who you’re fucking?You're always so quick to judge, to assume the worst of me. You know what? I'm done. Fuck you, Azriel!"

“You’re a cunning bitch, ever so observant, ready to pry into other people’s business; lying is like breathing for you, so why should I believe you? Why else would you happen to be there? Every time something goes wrong you’re in the middle of it!”

“Oh don’t try to blame me for your fuck ups, you dug that hole yourself. We were there because we were looking for you, because I wanted to give you this.” I shoved the little black box against his chest, hard. I had been carrying it with me since that night, its weight had been unbearable. “Happy Solstice, Azriel.” I spat with irony. 

He just stood there, shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping his anger at bay, eyes glued to the object now lying in his hands. 

Silence engulfed us once again as the bitter wind whistled through the barren landscape. Our breaths mingled with the frosty air, hanging between us like an unbridgeable chasm. 

“What is this?” he finally dared to ask, his voice cold and calm, distant but not nearly as angry as before. 

I cursed the slight tremor of vulnerability and turned away, already feeling a headache forming.  "You can throw it away if you want, I don’t care. I’m going to scout the land, don’t follow me. And keep your shadows to yourself."  My own voice came out barely above a whisper.

With that, I stormed off, leaving Azriel standing alone amidst the frozen wasteland. The ache of the fractured connection between us weighed heavily on my heart, mingling with the anguish of this mission and the bitter chill of the land. There was really no hope for us, to believe we could be friends again…that had been a foolish mistake. 

For a long while I walked and walked and walked, there had been no sign of any other living creature in hours. The night was starting to grow heavy and the cold unforgiving, I could barely see anything beyond the frozen forest, the small faelight I brought with me doing little to light up the path but I couldn’t risk giving away my position. It felt like I had been walking around in circles, never finding the exit to the forest. I could’ve sworn I passed the same twisted tree four times now, it looked like a giant claw tearing open the ground. Maybe I shouldn’t have left on my own. I had a bad feeling about this, it was all strangely silent. 

Just as I spotted a clearing, a familiar scent caught my attention. I haven’t felt that in nearly two centuries, but I remembered it like it was yesterday, sweet and strong and dangerous. My heart dropped to my stomach, and dread spread along my spine. It couldn’t be. He was dead. I had killed him.  

All my alarms went off almost immediately, I turned the faelight off and walked as slowly, as silent as a wrath towards the clearing. I had to squint my eyes to adjust to night vision, avoiding the branches and bigger patches of snow. A dim light appeared on the other side of the woods, floating beside a big shadow. As I came closer I could make the shape of wings, huge membranous wings. I wouldn’t mistake those wings in a thousand years. 

“Azriel?” I asked, low. Not entirely giving away my location still inside the forest’s safety. 

His back was turned to me, and he was standing predatorily still. A glimpse of metal flashed in the dim moonlight, Truth Teller was clutched tightly in his right hand, something dark and sticky dropping to the snow. Blood. The copper tang of it hit my nose a second later. It smelled like him. Was he hurt? 

I scanned the land beyond him, searching for the threat. If I had scented it earlier, probably he did too and found them sooner than I did. 

“Azriel was going on?” I tried again, walking closer. 

Past the shadows that engulfed him a figure lay on the ground, they were kneeling. There was so much more blood around them it was hard to tell if they were still alive. Whoever that was. 

I stepped beside him, my own blade in hand, ready to strike if needed be. But what struck me was the sight in front of me, Azriel was kneeling on the frozen ground, wings dropped and bloodied, a gag was pulled tight against his mouth and his eyes were wide, desperate. He grew wild when he saw me, thrashing against an invisible barrier. I turned around, confused and alarmed. The Shadow Singer stared back at me, a sinister smile tugging at his mouth and he launched forward, shoving the blade between my ribs. 

The Azriel on the ground tried to scream against the gag, eyes glazed over with rage. I wanted to reach him, free him from his restraints, but I couldn’t move. The male in front of me twisted the knife still inside my flesh and I let out a cry of pain. It burned like hell and I felt myself starting to get dizzy. Faebane, for sure. 

Hazel eyes turned darker than the night itself, and that pretty face morphed into something half beautiful, half monstrous. Brutal and scarred. I watched in horror as the male of my nightmares appeared in front of me. Demian, Kier’s first born son, alive and here. 

“Did you miss me, wife?” He purred into my ear. 

“RHYS! RHYS!” I tried to desperately call for the High Lord, but the mental channels between us felt distant, my voice sounded like an echo traveling through a never ending tunnel. 

I tried to take a step back but the world started to blur into darkness quickly. The last thing I saw was Demian’s monstrous face smiling down at me. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Azriel. 

The cavern was shrouded in darkness, its oppressive air thick with a sense of impending doom. The flickering light cast eerie shadows across the cold stone walls, as his eyes darted around, desperately searching for any means of escape. Azriel had been awake for a while now, heart pounding wildly against his ribcage at the scene in front of him; Y/N struggled against the coarse chains that bound her wrists, barely conscious due to the bloodlost. 

He had never felt more helpless and stupid. He should have said something, apologize, go after her, make her stay. Azriel still couldn’t believe he fell into  this motherfucker’s illusion, he should have known better. But it had been so real…the look of despair in her face, begging him to save her, as if Demian had known what she looked like, as if he had seen her like that before. Rage boiled in his veins.  Oh, once he got free of this invisible prison he was going to kill him, and he was going to take his sweet time doing so. 

"Azriel..." she whispered his name, her voice barely audible in the silence. The sound carried a mix of longing and worry, it made something crack inside his chest. 

The heavy stone doors groaned open, revealing two figures emerging from the depths of darkness. Demian, a malevolent presence wrapped in darkness, stepped forward with an insidious smile, his eyes glittering with a sinister delight.

Azriel’s shadows were frantic, desperately trying to leak beyond the barrier holding him and reach Y/N, but it was no use. Even his siphons couldn’t break the spell containing him, the strange marks painted on the ground around him seemed to absorb every futile attempt of his power to set him free. 

"Ah, Y/N, lovely to see you again", his voice dripping with malice. "We still have some unfinished business, darling."

Y/N narrowed her gaze, refusing to show her fear and spat on his face. “I don’t know how you’re still alive, but you’re as delusional as I remember.” 

Demian's laughter echoed through the cavern, chilling her to the bone. In his hand, he brandished a wickedly sharp blade, the metal gleaming with malicious intent.

"Perhaps," he sneered, his voice laced with contempt. "But this time I’ll succeed, you’ll pay for what you’ve done, you and your stupid High Lord. There’s no escaping your fate this time."

A weak groan managed to escape Azriel’s bloody lips, and Y/N's eyes filled with dread as she spotted him, chained to a wall, his body battered and bloodied. 

"Azriel!" she cried out, straining against her restraints. "Leave him alone!"

Demian's twisted grin widened, feeding off her anguish and desperation. "Oh, my dear," he taunted, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I plan to make him suffer just enough to ensure your compliance."

Tears welled up in her obsidian eyes as she watched Demian approach him, heart breaking at the sight of her mate's pain. Their connection, their bond, was just a whisper of strength and vulnerability.

"Do not yield, Y/N," Azriel's voice reached her, laced with pain but filled with unwavering resolve. "Don't let him break you."

“Enough!” The other presence in the room raised his voice as he approached the light. It was a dark haired male, tall and slim, a bit ungainly. His skin was a sickly grey-ish pale. Y/N’s eyes widened and tears started to flow freely down her cheeks at the sight of him. “Hello, sister. Long time no see.” He smiled wickedly at her as he anxiously played with the blade in his hands. 

Azriel could recognise its signature darkness capable of absorbing even the light of the sun anywhere. Truth Teller. The bastard was holding his blade. 

“Ajax…” she whispered, almost pleading. 

“We thought you had killed yourself. Imagine my surprise when I saw you at war with Hybern,” Ajax let out a humorless chuckle. “tch, father is so disappointed in you, you made mama cry and all for this?” He pointed at Azriel, still fighting to get free. There was something animalistic and ferocious in his eyes as he watched Damien twist the blade into the membrane of his wings. 

��Stop! Let him go. This is between me and you, he doesn’t have to be here.” 

“Let him go? So you can pull the bullshit you did on your wedding night? I don’t think so. But you wouldn’t dare to do so now, no, you wouldn’t risk hurting your precious Shadow Singer.” He smiled mockingly and slid the sharp edge of Truth Teller along her jaw. “Pitty. You would’ve made such a pretty bride… isn’t that right Demian?” 

Demian’s deformed mouth twisted upwards as he looked her up and down, something dangerous darkening his features. He grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him and ran a thumb over her lips. “You could have been my queen.”

She spat on his face again. “Go to hell.” 

Ajax slapped her face. “You’ve always been an ungrateful bitch.” 

Wiping his atrocious face clean, Demian stepped forward grabbing Truth Teller from Ajax hands. There was such hatred in their eyes. “Let’s get this over with.” He threw Azriel a wicked grin and slid the sharp edge across Y/N’s wrist. 

The Shadow Singer watched with a mix of fury and desperation as the blade cut into her flesh, eliciting a tortured cry from her lips. He felt it too, the pain, as if it was his own flesh being torn open. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Azriel’s threat echoed through the walls of the frozen cave. 

They both laughed as they carved similar markings to the ones holding him prisoner into her    skin. In her arms, her chest, her legs. She was just a playtoy for them to feed their morbidity. 

There was so much blood everywhere. Demian’s filthy mouth closed around one of the wounds, drinking from her. Her blood, her power, her very essence, while Ajax recited something in a tongue Azriel couldn’t understand. 

The Shadow Singer saw red. Something primal took over his senses, the urge to protect Y/N was stronger than anything, determination surged through his weakened body, and with every ounce of remaining energy, Azriel fought against his restraints. He summoned whatever hidden reserves of strength he possessed, his determination overriding the debilitating effects of the faebane. Sparks of raw power crackled around him as his unyielding rage fueled his desperate struggle for freedom. 

Ajax's full black eyes fell on him, sensing the upcoming battle that was about to be unleashed upon them and slit open Y/N’s other wrist. 

“Let’s go, we got what we need” He urged the blonde male beside him. 

They retreated, disappearing into the shadows, leaving Y/N and Azriel gasping for breath, their bodies battered and broken.

As Azriel's body trembled with exertion, his relentless efforts finally bore fruit. With a surge of sheer willpower, the invisible barrier shattered like fragile glass, freeing him from its confinements. Gasping for breath, his eyes blazed with a mix of determination and wrath as he surveyed the now empty space where the two males had stood. He would hunt them down, to the ends of the earth if needed, to make them pay for what they’ve done; but first he had to take Y/N to safety. 

He turned to face her; the anguish in her eyes mirrored his own, but their connection remained unbroken, he could still feel the sliver of hope amidst the darkness thrumming through that golden thread between their souls. 

She held tight onto that bit of sanity left and muttered the words “I’m sorry” over and over again as her body started to give out. 

Azriel’s whole body started shaking “No, no, no. Stay with me, I’ll get us out. I swear.” 

He rushed to her side, untying her arms and cradling her face. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t winnow and his wings were too damaged to fly. At this point they needed a miracle, he wasn’t a devoted believer in the gods but he would pray to all of them to save her. 

They lied there, in the ground, her face was drained of color and the unforgiving cold was not helping. 

As if in answer to his silent prayers, the stone doors burst open, revealing the High Lord and the General of the Night Court in a state of utter distress. Azriel didn’t know when he had started crying  but he let himself hold onto the tiny bit of hope that they might make it alive.  

"Where are they?" Rhysand's voice boomed with unwavering authority, his power shimmering around him.

The shadow singer shook his head, Y/N was slipping away as they talked. “Please save her” 

Rhysand rushed to their side, cradling her in his arms. Her heartbeat was too weak, her breathing labored. Azriel’s own consciousness was starting to flicker and he could feel the bond beginning to dim. Panic took over his senses, he started fighting against Cassian’s hold just to get to her.

“Az, it 's ok. We’ll meet them back at the House, she’s going to be fine.” Cassian assured him as he took to the skies. 

And he would have believed him if it wasn’t for the exchange of worried looks that transpired between his brothers.

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[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Eleven | Azriel x Rhys' little sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

Shadows dance around you as you stand in the hall of the townhouse. You hadn’t stepped foot inside of it before. Hardly even paid any attention to it when you were little. You were sure Rhys had to have updated the interior. Because the townhouses on this block were nice, sure, but not nearly as cozy as this one seemed. 

Outside, the city was buzzing with life. So much so that it made you want to shrink away even further. Run to the mountains again, lock yourself away in the house of wind. Cassian and Azriel both resided there….you wouldn’t be alone. But you couldn’t face leaving Rhys, even if he had Feyre to worry about. 

First taking her to the prison, then taking her to the Weaver. He had to be insane. He wouldn’t clue you in on what was happening in the world, but you knew something had to be going on. He made mention of feeling safer once you were in Valaris, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him. But you did hear him. And you would press him on it later. But now you needed to find your own footing again. 

“He had the twins set up a room for you,” Azriel said softly, hand gently resting on your shoulder, “No one can get in this house without permission, Rhys saw to that. And that includes me and Cass.” 

“Cassian,” You breathed out, suddenly remembering the man who was once like a second brother to you, “Where is he?” 

You spin around to face Az, and the door. There’s a look of surprise on Az’s face. The last time you saw Cassian, you’d punched him hard enough to break his nose. You had gotten into an awful fight with one another, that didn’t end until his blood was dripping on the floor. You remembered feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sight of him bleeding everywhere. 

“Sulking,” Az’s lips turned up slightly, “He wanted to go to summer, but he’s since been banned from the court for destroying a building or two.”

“He what?” You questioned, eyes darting back to meet his. 

“Story for another time.”

“Can you bring him here?” You question, not ready to fly at all, let alone to the House of Wind. 

“Why don’t we fly to him?” Az rose his eyebrows in a question. 

You shook your head, backing away from him just a step, “I don’t want to fly.” 

You didn’t want to summon your wings, something you hadn’t done since the day you were taken. You hadn’t allowed yourself that one pleasure, not when your mother’s wings were so cruelly cleaved from her body. Not when you had two long, thick, scars running down the length of your back from where Tamlin’s brothers cut into your flesh, thinking somehow they’d bring out the wings that were once there. 

“You don’t want to fly?” He questioned slowly, “You love to fly.” 

Your head shakes again as he tucks his wings impossibly tighter to his body, as if he was trying to hide them amongst the shadows that dwelled there. He didn’t know in full what happened to you, or at least you hoped he didn’t. You hoped his shadows hadn’t reported to him as it happened, only adding to the chaos of him trying to reach you in time. 

But by the time he made it to that clearing all that was left was two bodies hacked into pieces, one of your mother and one of your maid that accompanied you everywhere, and more blood than should have been possible. You could remember the way the grass was coated with it, soaking into the earth below. You wondered if it left a stain on that land. 

“Come back to me,” Az whispered, stepping towards you, “Leave all of that behind, and come back to me.”

“I’m right here, Az.” 

“Are you though?” He questioned softly, “Because I’m not so sure you are.”

You shiver with the memories that keep flooding your head. The sound of his voice as he begged you to be strong, that he would be there soon. 

Breathe, you had to remind yourself. Breathe, you’re free again. You’re home in Valaris, you’re with Azriel, and he would never let anything bad happen to you as long as you’re with him. You knew that in your very bones. But it didn’t make this any easier. 

Little Star?

Rhys’ voice made you jump, forgetting for a moment that you could still speak to one another. It seemed strange having him in your head after so long apart, you hadn’t even noticed the feeling of his mental claws gently stroking your mind. 

I’m okay. I promise Rhys. 

Az doesn’t seem to think so.

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to send a vulgar gesture down the line back to Rhys. Instead you flopped down in a near by chair. 

Az needs to mind his own business for once. 

Go flying with him. Please.

Go tell Feyre she’s your mate, dear brother, and I’ll think about it. 

He retracted from your mind with that. The feeling of him being gone left you feeling utterly empty. You’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone else in your mind, how full you felt. Full of life, full of thought. Full of emotion and oftentimes joy. 

“Don’t rat me out to my brother,” You grumble at Azriel. 

“I’m just worried,” He admits, stepping to sit on the edge of the chair across from you. 

“You have no reason to worry,” You try to convince him, acting as if you’re brushing off some dirt from your shoulder. 

“I think I have every reason,” He said so softly you almost didn’t hear him, “Why won’t you come flying with me?” 

You shake your head again, “If you witnessed what I did that day, you wouldn't want to fly either.”

Her screams echoed in your ears. Terror ripped through your bones again, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. You remind yourself again and again that you’re safe, and free, and home. Because this place felt more like a home than the House of Wind ever did.  

“You weren’t there, you couldn’t understand,” You told him quietly. 

“Don’t remind me that I failed you, Y/N.”

“You didn’t fail me.”

“I didn’t make it to you in time,” He replies, “I failed you in that way, and in every way after for the last few hundred years. I gave up on you.”

“Everyone did,” You simply shrugged, “I even gave up. I don’t blame you for what happened that day.”

The sound of mighty wings cut off any reply that Azriel could have, before the door was being shoved open and Cassian came quite literally running inside. His hair was half up in a messy bun, dripping with sweat. His shirt was haphazardly thrown on, like he’d been in the throws of training when someone, probably Rhys, told him to get his ass down to the townhouse. He looked around, chest heaving with every breath. He wasn’t out of shape, no he was far from that. But you’d watched him train before, you knew how hard he worked. And you could imagine he was panicked, just by the look on his face. 

He dropped the broadsword he held in his hand, staggering forward a few steps. You gently stood, not wanting to spook him. But he already looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and maybe he had. Because you certainly felt like a ghost of who you’d once been. A ghost of the person that used to laugh alongside Cassian at everything. 

“Y/N?” His voice broke, “Brother, what kind of trick is this?” He turned his full attention to Azirel, demanding answers. 

Azriel said nothing though, only inclining his head towards you. A silent confirmation. Tears filled the general’s eyes as he looked you over, trying to reconcile the girl he once knew when the women standing before him. 

Your own eyes glossed over as you watched him. He shook slightly, so slightly it could’ve been missed, if you weren't paying so close attention to him. He surged forward, so quickly he was nothing more than a blur of dark hair and wings as he scooped you up in his arms, pulling you from the ground. He held you as tightly as he possibly could, sobs leaving his body. You couldn’t stop your own sobs as they shook your whole body. Clutching onto him, you breathed in his scent. Something distinctly Cassian and the smell of sweat. Truthfully, he reeked and needed a bath. 

“How are you alive?” He cried, not so discreetly, “We helped Rhys bury your body.” 

“No, you didn’t. That’s what they wanted you to think,” You try to explain, “It was Michaa that you buried.” 

“But-” 

“Don’t grill her on this, Cass,” Azriel warned, finally speaking. 

Cassian set you down and held you at arm’s length, finally really looking you over. You’d grown taller since the last time he saw you. He assumed in another life, you would've been fuller too, but you still looked gaunt even after a while away from the spring court. Your hair was longer and darker, much like Rhys’. Your eyes weren’t as bright as they once were, but the light was slowly coming back to them. You were slowly coming back to life. 

“I missed you, Cassi,” You sniffed, knowing how much he hated that nickname when you were children. But you couldn’t say Cassian when you first met him. 

“Cauldron boil me,” He groans out, using the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes, “I never thought I’d hear you call me that again.”

“I need a drink,” He says suddenly, making his way into the kitchen, “Az?” 

“Pour me one too.” Az nods his head, sinking into the chair once more. 

He looked older, and yet just as young as you’d seen him the last time. But with the way he held himself, you could tell that he’d seen many horrors in the hundreds of years that you’d been gone. He’d dealt with too much. 

“Me too,” You agree, sinking into your own chair, feeling the weight pulling you down. 

“You aren’t old enough,” Was Cassian’s quick response. 

You raise an eyebrow at him in challenge, “I’m old enough to fuck, therefore I’m old enough to drink.” 

Both males cringe, eyes going wide, wings flaring. You groan out, realizing what you’d just said. You were sure Rhys had figured it out already, why you smelled so much like Lucien when he saw you on Firenight. Why you still smelled faintly like the male.

“I’ll get it myself,” You push yourself up again and push past Cassian, “Territorial male bastards.” 

Both males follow you into the kitchen as you grab for the decanter tucked on the corner of the counter. The room feels almost too small with both of them and their wings closing in on you. You felt trapped again. 

“Who,exactly, were you fucking?” Azriel asked with cold precision. 

“None of your business, Shadowsinger.” You snap back, downing the knuckles’ worth of alcohol. 

Shadows swirl angrily around you. Some listening to Az, some listening to you. The fought one another, colliding in the middle of the kitchen in a black patch. Cassian’s wings were flared wide muscles tensing. 

“You know I can find out,” Az warns. 

“Can you?” You question, “Because you didn’t even know I was alive for the past few hundred years. How are you supposed to find out anything when you couldn’t even do that?” 

You could physically see the moment the words settled down in him. He jerked back as if you’d hit him, wings suddenly snapping in tight to his body. Even Cassian took a step back. You swallowed, feeling bad for throwing that back in his face. You tried to step towards him, but he only backed out of the doorway and made for the front entrance, slamming the door behind him. You heard the beat of wings a moment later. 

“That was a low blow,” Cass warned you, “Even for you, Y/N.” 

Even for you…because you used to fight with Cass and Rhys, viciously, but never with Az. You never felt the need to fight with him, because he was always on your side. He always seemed to understand you. He knew how far to push you. You, however, pushed him too far this time. 

You could feel yourself sink. Head hung low as you looked at the glass in your hands. You didn’t know how to be around people anymore. It seemed odd, being free again. Being back with your family, even though Rhys and Amren were gone in Summer with Feyre. You longed for Mor, who seemed to have made herself scarce, knowing you’d need time to sort out yourself. You wished she wouldn’t have left you alone with the boys though. You were making a complete mess out of everything.

“ Cass, I-” 

“Don’t apologize to me,” He shook his head, “Find Az and apologize to him. He beat himself up for centuries for not making it to you in time. I seem to think he’ll blame himself until the day he dies.” 

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” You admit to him, so softly you aren’t sure if he hears. 

He’s quiet for a time, so very quiet that you can hardly make out the sound of him breathing, “Do what, Little one?” He finally questions. 

The sound of the name that only he called you, brings tears to your eyes. You curl in on yourself, wrapping your arms around you like a protective barrier. Cassian’s dark eyes softened at the sight, his wings drooping slightly. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you thought of how broken Azriel must feel. It made your chest feel as if it was going to break in two. 

“I don’t know how to live anymore,” You reply, utterly defeated. 

“C’mere,” He opens his arms wide for you, dark eyes shining. You step into his arms, feeling their strength wrap around you. For a moment you feel safe again, like the little girl he once knew, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. We won’t let you down again.” 

“You didn’t let me down the first time,” You promised him, “But I think I might be too broken to fix.”

“No, no one is too broken.”

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