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luxsky · 5 months

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Kicking out

Rhysand x reader

Summary: Reader tries to have a peaceful day without their partner hovering with overprotection, but destiny has other plans.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of body aches, Rhysand being an overly protective rooster. Ignore any biological errors; I've never been pregnant and have no background in any health-related field, so everything here is either from my imagination or a quick Google search.

Autor's Note: This is my first time posting here, and I'm anxious and very, very nervous (especially because it's the first time I've written in a long time). I don't know if I like this or not, but this idea has been lingering in my head for days. Maybe I'll do a part two, but I'm not sure. Please, I welcome any kind of feedback here! (but be careful with how you say it). I apologize if the grammar is... bad? English is not my first language, and I'm not fluent (much of this had help from AI for translation, so if something doesn't make sense or is placed incorrectly, please let me know so I can correct it).

It's the beginning of fall, all you wanted to do was sit on the expensive and cozy sofa decorating the House of Wind and read a soft and cliché romance book while sipping on a cup of hot coffee. Except, you couldn't consume caffeine for the sake of the baby growing in your belly. Still, you had the option to sit and read a book, but your large and exuberant belly prevented you from sitting comfortably for too long. Well, nothing a few pillows and a blanket couldn't solve. Okay then, you didn't have coffee or a comfortable position, but you could still read your book, right?

Well, no, you've been trying to do that since the early afternoon when you sent Rhysand to his office, asking him to work a bit in his own court instead of watching over you. In fact, he had been a mother hen since the beginning of the pregnancy, and that was just one of the excuses you gave to get rid of his overprotectiveness. But it was becoming a challenging mission to concentrate on reading. You're nearing the end of your pregnancy, which is exciting in part, with the anticipation of meeting your little one consuming you, but the discomfort of carrying a baby constantly kicking your ribs has proven quite persistent.

It's been more than five minutes since you were stuck on the same page, reading and rereading but unable to focus on the book, back pain and intermittent cramps stealing all your concentration. You were used to a slight discomfort in your back since the beginning of the second trimester, but today, in particular, it was more of a significant and noticeable discomfort. You sighed in frustration and decided that maybe eating something would help. Putting the book aside, you remove the blanket from over you and swing your legs out of the sofa, prepared for the struggle it would be to get up. Normally, Rhys would help you, but if he left the office long enough to realize something was bothering you, he would spend the rest of the day hovering over you, worried and concerned.

Breathless and almost sweating, you managed to get up. At this point, the only clothes that fit you were light fabric dresses, or what you were currently wearing: one of Rhys's sweatpants and a sweater stolen from his closet. Your partner started sharing half of his wardrobe when your beautiful, stylish, and beloved clothes no longer fit you—you cried for a whole hour after trying to put on one of your favorite pants, and Rhys almost cried too, not knowing how to comfort you.

Walking towards the kitchen, you almost laughed, remembering the various times when hormones provided you with uncontrollable tears and frightened your partner. In those moments, you felt slightly vindicated by his insistence on being present for every breath you took. It's not that you didn't love your partner and appreciate his concern; it's just that he didn't know how to balance it at certain times. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, he became an overprotective mother hen full-time, and it suffocated you a bit. Of course, you talked about it, and he promised to control himself, but if you made a different move, he was already on top of you, asking what was wrong and insisting that you needed to stay in bed.

Reaching the kitchen, you pause for a moment to catch your breath and lean your hands on your back while deciding what to eat. God, this belly was weighing more than usual. Deciding to make a big, hearty sandwich, you start gathering all the necessary ingredients from the cabinets and placing them on the counter.

You feel your partner gently pulling that thread connecting you two, and the next moment, he's entering the kitchen, a furrow between his eyebrows indicating that he's thinking, and the slight contraction in his mouth tells you he's worried. "Darling, you should be resting."

You roll your eyes and let a faint smile form on your lips as you reply, "I was resting, but then I got bored." You lean against the counter for a minute, then turn to grab a knife to cut the tomatoes. When you turn again, Rhys is in front of you, reaching out towards you and taking the knife. "If you wanted something to eat, you just had to ask." You pout at him, but he ignores it and turns to the counter, starting to cut the tomatoes. "I just wanted to do something for myself; you don't let me touch anything since you found out I'm pregnant."

You're beside him, staring at the tomatoes he cut, waiting for a response. He turns his face to you and plants a quick kiss on your forehead, grabbing the bread and saying, "Because the only thing I'll let my partner do while she's pregnant is to make this baby. That's consuming enough energy, and I don't want you to tire yourself out."

"Well, your partner may be making a baby, but she assures you she has enough energy to make her own sandwich."

He raises an eyebrow, and a shit-eating grin forms on his lips. Like she had enough energy to organize the baby's clothes last night? His voice fills your mind, the thread connecting you two vibrating with his amusement. Bastard.

I only slept because you decided to intervene and didn't let me do anything else.

"Darling, I only intervened because you were asleep." He starts putting each ingredient on the bread, and you decide to sit — not because you're tired, obviously — in front of him. You go around the counter as you respond, "Well, I don't remember... Argh." The sudden pain reverberating in your back and cramping that comes and goes cut your speech in half. Damn, you really hoped it wouldn't happen now.

Rhys is in front of you before you can even move, one hand on your belly and the other gently placed on your face, guiding your eyes to meet his. "What's wrong? Is it you? The baby? Panic fills his voice and shines in his beloved violet eyes. His mouth has that contraction again.

The only response you give is a negative nod, trying to catch your breath as the pain passes. He continues with his hands on you and doesn't seem satisfied with your non-verbal answer. I'm fine, the baby is fine. It must have been just another kick in my rib.

His right hand holds the one he placed on your face, and his lips try to form a reassuring smile, which is probably just a funny grimace at the moment. He kisses your forehead, and there's still concern on his face when he pulls away just enough to put both hands on your belly. His gaze alternates between your face and your belly; he still seems reluctant, so he asks again, "Are you sure? I can call Madja just to check, and..."

''Shh." You interrupt him, placing a finger on his lips. Your gaze softened, and now you're the one placing both hands on your partner's face, your thumb stroking his cheek." I said we're fine; it's nothing serious. The baby has been restless all day."

That seems to convince him enough because he agrees and holds your hands, bringing his face closer to yours and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. You pull away after a moment, this time with a complete smile when you playfully say, "Now, go finish my sandwich, or else this baby will start kicking for food." Rhysand laughs with your remark and turns to the counter, finishing your sandwich.

He starts putting away the ingredients again after placing the plate in front of you. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain? We could have asked Madja for something." He finishes putting away the last ingredient and turns to you again, only the counter separating him as he watches you take the first bite of the sandwich.

"Oh God, this is so good." You ignore his statement, too focused on savoring what might be the best sandwich of your life. He accepts your lack of response with a soft laugh and turns to the cabinets to grab a glass. "Do you want some juice?" you mumble a yes, with your mouth full of the sandwich, and wait for him to fill the glass. He has his back to you while rummaging through the cabinets.

Splash.

"What kind of juice do you want, dear? Because I think we only have orange or grape, but I can ask the House to make some other flavor." He turns to you, waiting for a response, but his face transforms when he sees your expression. "What? Is something wrong?"

Oh, well, this is going to be funny. You finish swallowing the sandwich, trying to formulate a word. He stays where he is, waiting for your response, frozen. But it's your next words that make him run towards you.

"I think my water just broke."

Another pang erupts in your back, and you realize that maybe it wasn't the baby that was restless. It was contractions.

And this baby is about to kick its way out of your belly.

#acotar #rhysand #fanfic #Rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #pregnancy #x reader #pregnant reader #Soft #rhysand imagine #a court of thorns and roses

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hellfire-andholywater · 2 years

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'I woke up in a naked body

That was not my own

It felt foreign

Numb'

-soft thorns, bridget devoue

#bridget devoue #soft thorns #ptsd

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octxii · 7 months

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i'm only cryptic and machiavellian 'cause i care

#commission i did earlier this year #beating the horniest shipdom allegations #someone has to provide some soft azris #azris #azriel #eris #eris vanserra #eris acotar #azriel x eris #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel acotar

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jeannineee · 10 months

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Period comfort with az please?? 🥺 I'm on my period rn and I feel like I'm gonna d word 🫠🫠

Lay with Me

Azriel x Reader

warnings: none

You were bloated, sweaty, and irritated.

The pain in your lower abdomen was bad enough that you couldn’t bring yourself to move from the couch. You curled into a ball, grimacing as another wave of cramps came.

Azriel had finally returned home, a sympathetic expression painting his face.

He approached you immediately, holding a small vial. “Madja said this tonic will help with your pain,” he murmured gently.

You gladly drank it, before plopping back on the couch. “I feel miserable,” you muttered, clutching your stomach.

Azriel frowned. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just lay with me.”

Azriel kissed your forehead, before squeezing next to you on the couch, laying one of his wings over you like a blanket. The warmth from it actually seemed to alleviate some of the cramps you were feeling.

He ran his hand through your hair, his voice soft and soothing as he told you about his day, distracting you from your pain.

Azriel didn’t stop talking until he was sure you were asleep. He stayed on the couch with you, admiring your sleeping form, until your quiet breaths beckoned him to sleep, as well.

#acotar headcanon #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger #Azriel fluff #soft!azriel #azriel

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userkayjay · 1 year

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PEAKY BLINDERS 2.06

#don't look at me i'm soft #peaky blinders #peakyblindersedit #perioddramaedit #tvedit #thomasshelbyltd #perioddramasource #violaobanion #periodedits #usermerel #usershelby #cinematv #filmtvcentral #ada shelby #ada thorne #thomas shelby #tommy shelby

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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 days

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Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)

Part 2 - “Peter”

Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst

Visions of a past life plague Felina as she recovers from burnout. Rhys seeks answers. Azriel comforts his mate as past-trauma comes crashing down on her. A former lover tracks her down.

Part 1 - El Paso - Series Masterlist

warnings: past trauma, panic attack, references to sex, elements involving death, blood drinking, violence

Forgive me, Peter. My lost fearless leader.

“Quit fidgeting, Y/N.” Mother whispers as she runs a brush through my tangled hair.

Father is in Windhaven this week and I’ve been free to roam the skies as I please, whenever mother turns a blind eye. The arts district is vibrant with life and so often my family carries me out kicking and screaming. Well, aside from my brother who hides his amusement behind a mask of irreverence. He knows I love the rainbow.

Of course, Rhys has been gone on courtly business for weeks and I am dying to see him. My brother, the one person who truly understands me. Well, as much as one’s older brother can understand their sister.

I miss him.

“Sorry, mother.” I sigh. “I’m just excited to see my brother tomorrow on our travels.”

A pause of the brush strokes gliding through my hair shoots worry through me. I grit my teeth, bracing for her next words. “What is it?” I inquire, turning to see Mother’s lovely face downcast before her warm gaze meets mine. “He’s been held up and cannot travel with us tomorrow.”

“Oh.” I sigh. Hurt running through me. It’s not his fault, he’s busy and a far more benevolent leader than our father is a ruler, though he plays the game quite well.

An hour later as I lay in bed my heart races, my thoughts spiraling into the places I do my best to forget. The males of this court always let me down. Oh the perils of being the second born heir, younger than those surrounding me, female, and never taken seriously.

The goddess of timing, once found us beguiling.

A note appears at my bedside.

“Night’s truest bloom, there is no starlight without you. Won’t you cast thy gaze upon my room? Xx, Peter”

I smile at the flirtatious note, biting my lip. “You know I can’t but think of me as you bask in sunlight while mother and I trudge through the Illyrian forests tomorrow. Rhys bailed.”

“I don’t like that you’re traveling alone. Shall I come escort you?”

I blush at the thought of walking arm-in-arm with him. Gods, I’m so totally enamored. How did it end up like this?

“You High Fae, so territorial.” I write back.

“You are partly High Fae yourself, my lady. In fact, I’m pretty sure you offered to kill the last female who got too close for your liking.”

My stomach turns. I would. The female’s a lech.

“Semantics. I’ll see you when I get back. Dream filthy dreams of me.” I press a kiss to the letter and send it off.

“Only the filthiest, my sweet Felina.”

She said she was trying. Peter, was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did.

—————-

Felina

“Y/N?” A cautious voice stirs me from my dream. I wake to find myself in a very large bed, surrounded by luxurious blankets that likely cost twenty-fold the standard linens I’d become accustomed to - the ornate room around me more spacious than anywhere I could recall resting my head.

My body is sore, lethargic. I stretch my arms and - ouch - stiff as well.

“Take it, easy, okay? Your body was under a lot of stress.” I blink my bleary eyes to see Azriel’s concerned gaze fixed upon me.

My body feels weighed down from exhaustion but my heart, it feels heaviest of all - a feeling I’ve continued to carry since Azriel found me at the Inn. Shouldn’t I be happy to have a piece of my life in place? I have a mate - and from what I can recall, a damn good one as well.

I open my mouth to speak but his eyes go distant, a look I’m familiar with but trying to place.

An urgent knock intrudes upon the silence, a look of irritation crossing Azriel’s features before he mutters an apology to me. “He couldn’t wait for me to speak with you apparently.”

My gut clenches, dread overtaking it as the door opens. In walks a male with a face so familiar that my heart’s pace rushes. My brother, Rhys.

“Y/N.” He chokes out, love and longing written all over his beautiful face. “You’re home.”

The name. Y/N. So familiar and so foreign. I remember it now but Felina brings me comfort. “Felina, please call me Felina.” Pain flickers across his features before giving a subtle nod. “Okay, Felina.”

His eyes sparkle as tears form in his eyes. “How? How are you here? Where have you been?”

I reach a hand to touch his face, the scruff beneath itching my palm, his hand instantly finding it and leaning in. It feels so warm and familiar and yet, I yank my hand away like lightning. “I don’t know.” My breaths quicken. Flashes of centuries of lies and manipulation rush into my head and it’s all too much. I can’t process this. I can’t relive it.

My hands find my torso, wrapping myself tightly, I can’t catch my breath. The hot blur of tears fill my eyes as I screw them shut. “I’m sorry- I- I“ can’t finish the sentence as I heave, trying my best to even out my breathing and failing miserably. The inky feel of power seeps from my skin and I can’t process the male voices speaking beside me. My name; a cold, icy voice giving a command; a broken voice of night giving in to whatever was commanded as heavy footsteps pace away, and then -

Darkness. Warmth. A heartbeat in my ear. A brush of lips against my hair. Azriel.

I stay there, sobbing as the emotions crash into me like the surf to rocky shores. The pain doesn’t alleviate for what feels like an hour, the rhythm of my mate’s chest finally bringing me back to the present.

When my eyes open, Azriel is draped over me, wings cocooning protectively around my body, his heartbeat the steady constant in my ear. “I’ve got you.” He whispers. I give into his warmth and drift off again.

————————

Said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Lovers in a field. Brushed hands at balls. Green eyes meeting violet. Shared smiles.

Words from the mouths of babes

Tears cried into a broad shoulder. Whispers of “It’s not fair”, drunken chants of “fuck the cauldron!”, late nights and long dances beside reflections of starlight.

Promises oceans deep

Young lovers questioning eternity, the forces of fate. Letters signed with pen names.

But never to keep

————————-

“Brother, you need to sleep.” Rhysand stressed into Azriel’s mind.

The stubborn bastard had refused to leave Y/N’s side for the days she’d been unconscious. A huge part of Rhys beamed at that. Who was he to question the bonds forged by fate? Was Azriel being his sister’s mate ideal? In a sense, no. As an older brother, he’d always felt protective over her. But Y/N had always gravitated to Azriel, even as a child his shadows could calm her when she was fussy, his patient demeanor had always been a soothing balm to her inquisitive mind. He’d listen carefully as she pondered the great mysteries of life out loud long after the rest of the family had tuned her out.

“I’m fine.” Azriel’s conscious growled in return.

He sure as hell didn’t sound it.

“Let me send darkness to soothe her, just long enough for you to eat and get some sun.”

A pause and then the mirthful reply of “Is it an order?”

Maintaining composure the High Lord replied, “Is it necessary for me to do so?”

Ten minutes later, Azriel appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the light of the foyer emphasizing his hallowed eyes and drained skin. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” Azriel muttered.

Rhys knew he sounded like a prick but it was true. “How about you go sun your wings in the garden?”

The energy of the room shifted as Azriel’s eyes rolled, caught between humor and bitterness as he reminded his brother for the fifth time that week of the current circumstances. “Despite your good intentions, you seem to forget that prolonged exposure to the sun is exactly what I do not need.”

“Shit! I am never going to get used to this.” Rhys placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Fine, sit. Amren brought a fresh blood supply this morning. She says it’s goat from Sevenda’s but she was in a mood, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the blood of whatever poor souls had the nerve to cross her path on the way here.”

Azriel wanted to grin at the attempted humor but didn’t have it in him. What a strange turn of the tables, Amren no longer the bloodthirsty one.

The males sat in silence, Azriel nursing the goblet of blood Nuala had kindly brought in to him. Soft footsteps padded into the space, a familiar floral scent wafting through the room, as Elain entered.

“Oh.” the middle Archeron sister gasped. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She gave a wary smile, sad eyes falling on Azriel before flicking back to Rhys.

“Not interrupting, Elain. What do you have there?” Rhys glanced to a piece of paper in her clutched in her grasp. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she spoke too quickly, her pulse fluttering. “Writing secret love letters, Elain?”

She shook her head, glancing to Azriel once again. It grated Rhys to know the recent history, or whatever it was, that transpired between Azriel and Elain. With his sister being thrown into the mix now, he was battling that instinct to protect her at all costs.

Elain blushed a soft shade of pink, nearly matching that of her pastel dress. One hand grasping the delicate wrist of the opposite. “I’ve been writing to Lucien.”

“Ah, and how is dear Little Lucien?” Rhys raised an eyebrow, lip quirking upward.

“He’s fine.” Her words were clipped. “I have to go now. Cerridwen is waiting for me in the gardens. We’re planting a new variant of night-blooming jasmine.” She gave a nod and scurried from the room.

Azriel’s lips remained in a firm line as Rhys nursed the whiskey he’d poured himself.

Months ago, her words would have hurt, sliced like a dagger at Azriel’s own lack of a bond. Now, well, he still felt jaded toward Rhys for the solstice that he essentially banned him from pursuing a relationship with Elain. But- it worked for the best. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than his own mate, his Y/N, his Felina - as she insisted she be called.

Guilt tugged at him, he should be up with her, not downstairs. What if she needed him? What if she woke with a night terror and he wasn’t there?

“She’s fine, brother.” Rhys broke him from his thoughts. “Your shadows will alert you the moment she wakes, and I have darkness soothing her.”

Shaking his head, Azriel rested his face in his own palms as if he’d rub his face hard enough and all concerns would fade away.

Finally, he looked up. “How do you do it, Rhys? How do you stay away when there are so many questions that need answered?”

Sitting his glass down onto a coaster, Rhys leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “I know she is in good hands. You brought her back to me. And I know, a mate can help her right now far more than an older brother.”

The thought warmed the icy chill that had settled into Azriel’s bones, he reveled in the moment before replying. “There’s so much we don’t know- So much we need to know.”

“You’re the spymaster, Az, and she’s your mate. I know you need answers. And gods, don’t think for a moment that I don’t want answers too. It takes every ounce of will not to just dive in to see what I can find, but…. It’s her story to tell. And, when I send my darkness to soother her, her shields, there’s something about them that my own darkness recoils from.”

Digesting the words, Azriel took another swig from his goblet. “I need to go back upstairs.”

Rhys only gave a knowing nod.

—————————

Love’s never lost when perspective is earned

Dreams shifted from young love and light to pain and darkness plague my sleep state with visions of bloodshed on pristine snow. Brutal hands of power-hungry males. Sharpened blades. A mother’s scream. Shredded wings falling to the earth.

Lost to the Lost Boys chapter of your life

And then, warm hands and a familiar face. Love and terror in emerald eyes. Strong arms carrying a broken body. Cries of “Please just hold on for me.”

A promise of “Stay right here. I’m getting help.” The back of a lupine creature running toward the distance.

Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold on.

The effort of holding on is growing too hard. My head slumps as blood trickles from my wingless back. An unheard plea of “Peter!” falls from frozen lips.

Then there is darkness. Void. Impending death.

A cold, pale hand chills my skin. A cruel, beautiful face promises eternity. Unfamiliar arms drag me away and I do not fight.

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

———————————

Azriel

Azriel had finally settled in beside a sleeping Felina, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and never let go.

His shadows alerted him to the breach in the wards first, shock running through him at the intrusion. Apparating to the entryway, he found Rhys at the front door, baring his teeth at the intruder, waves of night rolling off of him in a way that would send most running.

Icy rage shot through Azriel’s veins at the audacity of the male to show up at their door. The urge first, ask questions later pulling him toward the intruder. His lunged was interrupted by a sharp inhale behind him behind, diverting him from his war path.

His mate had walked down the stairs, her first time out of bed since arriving to the River House. Her slim form trembled, those otherworldly eyes swirling with emotions he couldn’t comprehend.

“Peter.” She whispered through rapid breaths. Azriel ran to her, bracing an arm around her back to steady her uneven footing as she climbed down the grand staircase.

The blonde male fell to his knees, his tears falling ricocheting off the marble floors.

Azriel has no time to ponder the incorrect name she’d used, focusing on her steps, observing the sight before him. He’d only ever seen the male solemn or filled with rage. Never this.

And Felina, there was no fear or hate in her eyes, no wariness, as she took in the male. No, the only emotion he could now read was one his heart wasn’t prepared to face.

So, Azriel watched as his mate’s eyes lined with tears, her slow steps increasing and filling with purpose as she reached the entryway, stepping out of his brace and flinging herself into the arms of the High Lord of the Spring Court.

—————————

Tamlin

Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer?

He didn’t believe it when Lucien wrote to him sending word that Elain mentioned that Y/N was in Velaris. That she was alive. There was no way and getting his hopes up would kill him.

How many nights had he spent plagued by the memories of the day it all came crashing down? The ruination of a beautiful friendship, of a love forged from two kindred souls damned by fate, and the role he played in it.

They were both so jaded at an early age, he and Y/N. And for whatever reason he couldn’t fathom, the princess of night found the youngest heir of spring to be worthy of her presence. She was everything and he was just, a lost male. Everyone wanted her time but she wanted his, and so began the affair of sneaking off at parties, stolen kisses under starry nights, long rolls in soft grasses, love notes written with pen names.

He was Peter, the lost boy forced to grow up too soon - who wanted nothing more than a life of music and poetry but doomed to strengthen ties to Hybern, to be married off like seed stock to a mate that he hated, Hybern’s wicked general.

And Felina, feline, curious and sleek as a cat. She’d been heartbroken by a one-sided mating bond, by a mate who only saw her as the child she once was, a mate too busy pining over her cousin to notice the gem he had right in front of him.

They’d found comfort and peace with eachother, two young adults who could be whomever they wished in their stolen moments.

They were careful to avoid being caught. So careful, until the day he snuck off to watch as she traveled through the Illyrian forests with her mother, that instinct to protect those he cared for surfacing at such an early age. He thought he’d lost her forever. He’d tried so desperately to save her. By the time he returned with a healer, she had disappeared. To this day, Felina had been his greatest loss.

And moments ago when her cry called into his mind, “Peter!”. There was nothing that could hold him back from her, no wards too strong, no distance too far to winnow. There was only he and his need to see her for himself.

And now, here she was in his arms. Repeating over and over how sorry she was for not holding on, for not having faith that he’d return.

All he could choke out was, “Felina.”

We both did the best we could do, underneath the same moon in different galaxies.

—————————————

Tags:

General ACOTAR: @lilah-asteria

Series tag list: @saltedcoffeescotch @julesofvolterra @glittervame @nocasdatsgay

SPOILER FOR THIS STORY (in case you need to know who is end game) : click here

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st4r-t3ars · 3 months

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Snapshot

Sleepy cuddles time

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apollodarling-writes · 8 months

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can you please write Acotar yandere Azriel x reader headcanons and can you also make reader? their mate because I think being Azriel mate will just amplify his yandere tendencies, because we all know how Azriel would do anything for a mating bound

YANDERE AZRIEL HCs

nonnie ily your brain is so big.

tws: caging, confining, intimidation, uses his shadows to keep tabs on you and stalk (???) you, reader is kidnapped by enemies of the night court for information, azriel slaughters said enemies

Yan! Azriel who initally met you through Feyre. Rhysand had agreed to let Feyre bring a close friend of hers to dinner and you waltzed in, immediately feeling the bond snap in place.

Rhyand sensed something was going on, talons gently scraping against Azriel's mental barriers and found out that the two of you were mates.

Rhysand, being the cocky matchmaker he is, moved Cassian from beside his brother in arms, and politely asked you to take a seat next to Azriel.

Yan! Azriel whose shadows are quick to lick at your flesh, weaving between your fingers and fidgeting with your clothing, eager to become familiar with their Master's mate.

Yan! Azriel who is quick to retract them, apologizing to you in a quiet tone, making sure to avoid your gaze.

Yan! Azriel who, after you leave for the night, orders his shadows to keep a close watch on you. He can't have his mate getting hurt!

Yan! Azriel who sees you coming over more often to spend time with Feyre, catching your sneaky glances with a soft gaze.

Yan! Azriel whose heart pounds in his chest when you approach him, your body language hesitant yet eager to become more familiar with him.

Yan! Azriel who gazes at you longingly, his instincts telling him to keep you safe no matter the cost.

Yan! Azriel who always, always knows where you are and what you're doing- courtesy of his shadows feeding him this information.

Yan! Azriel who doesn't know how to tell you that the two of you are mates, so he ponders on it for awhile.

Yan! Azriel who, while planning how he should tell you one day, is mortified and unbelievably angry when his shadows inform him that you were in danger.

Yan! Azriel who immediately winnows to your location and finds that one of the many enemies of the Night Court had caught wind of your familiarity with the High Lord's Inner Circle and had kidnapped you for information.

Luckily, Yan! Azriel was able to slaughter all of the guards in time to rescue you before they hurt you too badly!

Yan! Azriel who can barely contain his fury when he sees that your lovely skin is bruised and bleeding, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tremble in fear.

Yan! Azriel who is quick to murmur sweet nothings and unshackle you, winnowing back to The House of Wind to patch you up.

Yan! Azriel who is gentle as he cleans and dresses your wounds, shakily pressing kisses to each.

Yan! Azriel who explains that he keeps tabs on all of the Inner Circle (except for Rhysand) when you ask. It's a safety precaution. He's lying.

Yan! Azriel who takes a deep breath and admits that the two of you are mates, watching as your eyes light up and your lips part with delighted shock.

Yan! Azriel who is shocked that you seem so excited and that you take being his mate so well. It just makes him love and appreciate you more!

Yan! Azriel who goes off on his own to build a cozy home for the two of you with his own two hands, creeping you out surprising you with it when you say you wanted a home of your own one day.

Yan! Azriel who, after the Mating Ceremony, slowly becomes more possessive and controlling in subtle ways. He just wants to keep you safe! Can't you see that?

Yan! Azriel who uses magick to trap you in your shared home when you keep trying to leave... Is he not enough for you? Is there something that's you need done? He can do anything and everything for you, so please just stay put!

Yan! Azriel who understands why you're ignoring him, but if you keep it up, he'll have to resort to drastic measures to get you to talk to him again.

Yan! Azriel who threatens persuades you to keep quiet about what's been going on at home. You wouldn't want your family to get hurt would you? Keep those lips of yours sealed, darling. His shadows are always keeping watch.

Yan! Azriel who is elated when you finally come around, giving into his efforts to keep you safe and healthy.

#male yandere #tw yandere #tw: stalking #tw: yandere #tw death #soft yandere #yandere acotar #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #yandere azriel #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel x female!reader #azriel x male reader

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dawneternal · 2 months

Text

I Have Loved You For the Last Time

Sad Eris ✅

Gay Eris ✅

Soft boy Eris ✅

Based on the theory that Mor and Eris had secretly agreed to a lavender marriage. Forgot Eris's hounds are supposed to be big don't roast me

TW: angst, homophobia, loss of a loved one, inner circle critical (from Eris' perspective)

Word Count: 1.4k

Eris pulled his scarf up to cover his nose and nuzzled into it. The autumn wind was bitingly cold today, as if it was also restless with grief. It pressed against him as he walked, as if to say

we know we know we know

The sun cast golden light along the path, illuminating each fallen leaf with tender care. Bare tree branches twisted into a sparse canopy, fracturing the sunshine as it fell. The bittersweet smell of decaying leaves mingled with the scent of distant swaying wheat fields. All carried on that fluttering wind.

Eris looked down at the hound that walked by his side, donning a little plaid cloak to protect against the cold. So content to follow him wherever he went, looking up at her master every once in a while with only admiration and eagerness in her eyes. The most loyal creature he had ever met.

The path curved toward the edge of the woods and Eris pushed through the wards at the treeline. He entered the protection of the little clearing and let out a deep sigh. From the outside, the clearing was empty. If his father, or anyone else, ever tried to enter it they'd be struck with a sudden headache so fierce they'd forget what they were doing in the first place.

But Beron would never bother with this corner of the autumn court. A place where the High Lady used to play in her childhood. Inside it, hidden from prying eyes, sat the ruins of a beloved hand-made play house. And beside it, two gravestones.

There were no bodies buried here, only the stones for visiting and remembering. Away from cruel brothers and guards who would only ever be loyal to the High Lord. Away from that complex world of secrets and games, weaving as wide as the halls of the sprawling Forest House and wider all the time. Here, it could be simple for a moment.

Eris ran his hand across one of the gravestones and murmured a blessing. His fingertips brushed over the name carved into it.

Jesminda

He wondered about her sometimes. What her family had been told about her death. If they knew anything at all, if they blamed Lucien for it. Nevertheless, the flowers he had sent to Jesminda's family on her birthdays were always anonymous. It was something he did more for himself than anyone else. But he did it anyways, though it did little to lessen the deep well of guilt inside him. Neither did enchanting the flowers that grew on her grave to never wilt or die. Forever blooming, like Jesminda was supposed to be.

Eris knelt on the ground before the other gravestone. His hound sat next to him and leaned into his side, as if she remembered what it meant when they came here and knew he would need the support. Eris mindlessly stroked the little beast's fur and lost himself in his memories.

This second stone was not marked. He could not have anyone carve it. Some knew of Jesminda's story -- Lucien's young love and her untimely death. But no one would ever know of Sebastian, the one who held Eris's heart. No one but Beron. And Lucien, the nosy busybody.

It was Beron's doing that no one knew of Sebastian. Jesminda, he could turn into an example. But Sebastian's existence infuriated and shamed Beron so thoroughly that he had any evidence of his life wiped from the Autumn Court. Like mud scrubbed from the palace's polished floors.

Sometimes Eris wondered if his father had gone as far as to have Sebastian's family's memories erased. If Beron had known that his youngest son was in on the secret, Lucien would surely have been made to forget. But Beron would not make Eris forget. Eris's punishment was to remember.

Of course, it was Eris's fault. He thought he could juggle it all, keep it all secret and safe. But Beron had found the one loose thread and pulled until he had discovered the whole truth and Sebastian was lost to him forever. Perhaps part of him had hoped Beron would not react so terribly. After all, Sebastian was from a noble family. He was proper and polite and trained perfectly. An ideal match for a High Lord. Except, of course, that he was male.

A tear slipped down Eris's cheek. This was the reason for the impenetrable wards. So he could let his tears fall and not immediately be torn apart. He let out a bitter laugh as he remembered his reputation -- cold, petty, and unfeeling. And yet here he was, crying over the empty grave of his lost love and a lesser fae girl he had barely known.

It was Morrigan who had started that reputation, keeping his character in a chokehold with the stories she spread about him. Twisted and incomplete, painting him in such a cruel light.

Such dark bitterness filled him with the memory of the Night Court. He thought about them often, more than they deserved. More than he wanted to. Like it was a habit.

That infernal inner circle, drunk on happiness that he would never have. Even brooding Azriel had more tenderness in his life than Eris could ever hope for. Azriel, who had wrapped his hands around Eris's throat and kept squeezing, even as Eris laid still and did not fight back. He had not wanted to spit those venomous words. Had not wanted to taste them in his mouth. But Beron was always watching, and he must keep up the appearance of a grudge against Morrigan, his "ruined" bride. So Eris let himself be Azriel's punching bag just for the show, knowing that he deserved it anyways.

But then Azriel had the gall to act like a wounded animal, comforted and calmed by the High Lady. He had sat by her, been served by her. And none of their circle seemed to see how ridiculous it looked, watching them all play house together at a High Lord's meeting. It was a joke, all of it.

And he wanted it. All of it.

An inner circle that would die for him. A mate that would tear apart courts for him. A city of peace filled with lovely trivial things, plagued by only the smallest of worries.

"You're all I've got, Marigold," He whispered to his hound as she laid her head in his lap. "You're my inner circle."

Eris shook all thoughts of the Night Court from his head as he noticed a glint of Emerald green among the goldenrods planted over Sebastian's grave. He pulled a little velvet box from among the flowers and golden ring blinked back at him when he opened it.

He held it close to his eye to examine, and found that a word had been carved into the inside of the ring. Written in an old and mostly dead language. Memories came to him of he and Lucien learning that language to use as a code, one their father couldn't read.

Sebastian.

A smile tugged at his lips. When he slipped the ring on his finger, it vanished completely. It looked as if he wore nothing at all. He had no idea how long it had been there waiting for him, but the metal of the enchanted ring reminded him of a certain redhead's golden eye. The only other one who knew of this place and what Eris had lost. If it wasn't him, then the ring was not a gift at all but a threat from someone who had discovered his deepest secret.

He held the ring in his palm for Marigold to inspect. She gave it sniff and turned away disinterested. Golden light filled Eris's chest. It had been left by Lucien.

In the blink of an eye, the world became much less bleak. The air even felt a bit warmer. He leaned forward to press a kiss to the gravestone and then stood, Marigold immediately at attention by his side. He said goodbye with his usual prayer and slipped the ring on his finger, practically skipping back to the forest path. And he clung tightly to that sunrise in his heart. The closest thing to hope he could allow.

Mother hold you. May you pass through the gates and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil, feel no pain. Go and enter eternity.

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velidewrites · 1 year

Text

Feyre Archeron and Rhysand

#the soft aesthetic has me in such a chokehold these days #feysand #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #rhysand acotar #acotar moodboard #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #sjm

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luxsky · 3 months

Note

First of all, Kicking out was amazing! I love reading domestic fluff like this! I would love to see the birth scene and the aftermath/Rhys interacting with his newborn. Rhys is such a simp and is the type who would do anything for his mate and the people he loves so it would be cute to see it in that context especially since we were robbed of it in silver flame.

Again, I love reading your fic and it’s amazing that this was your first one! Looking forward to reading more!

Kicking Out, part 2

Rhysand x reader

Summary: Reader and Rhysand's baby is born, and they revel in the love that surrounds them.

Warnings: Amateur description of childbirth, fatigue, a brief snippet of body insecurity, biological inconsistency – I think that's it, but I could be mistaken.

Author's Note: I procrastinated so much to write the second part until I realized that months had passed since the first part. I truly apologize for taking this long; it wasn't my intention. Thank you for all the love, support, and compliments; my heart warms every time I reread them! ♥️ I promise to try and write more quickly. Again, thanks to everyone who commented, liked, and reposted the first part; I love you all. English is not my first language, so please let me know of any spelling errors!

Madja said that walking would help, the movement would make her body dilate faster, and the baby would be born in the blink of an eye. One detail she might have forgotten to mention is that contractions would also increase along with dilation. In the early hours, you managed to walk with some pauses, going back and forth in the corridor—going down stairs was certainly not an option—with your kind partner by your side, ensuring nothing would go wrong. However, as time passed, the pain radiating from your lower back to half of your leg became so intense that you limited your movements, entering your room and contenting yourself with small steps there.

At this point, the pain was so much that Rhys had to practically guide you, his hand supporting your lower back, while you used the other for support, holding it firmly. Your breath came out in gasps, and for a brief moment, your body was free from pain, and you wanted to feel relief, but after being there for hours, you knew it was only a matter of minutes until the next contraction would arrive and strip away any capacity to think.

"Rhys, I'm tired," you whispered, barely managing to finish the sentence before the pain coiled in your back and flowed down your legs again. A moan escaped your lips, and you bent forward, your legs almost giving way, Rhysand quickly holding you, preventing you from reaching the floor.

"Come, dear, let's get you on the bed," your partner's voice was filled with tenderness and concern. He pulled you towards the large, comfortable bed you shared, and even though you wanted to keep walking, as Madja advised, your energy had long run out. So when Rhys helped you onto the bed, you didn't argue.

Your hands released Rhysand's, leaning on the bed. Before you could put your legs on the mattress, another contraction came, and a strangled scream of pain left your throat just as Madja returned to the room, carrying towels and other things that your mind didn't process.

The position you were in was strangely comfortable, the upper part of your body supported on the mattress. When your partner touched you again, as if telling you to lie down, tears welled up in your eyes. If your body wasn't so trapped in pain, you might have told him that it was okay, that this position was good.

"I know it's comfortable, love, but if you lie down, Madja can examine you better," Rhysand would know what you were thinking. You probably lowered your shields, projecting many feelings to him. You tried to block him, wanting to spare him the pain, but the claws caressing your mind gave you a hint that he didn't want that.

Before another contraction came, you decided to listen to your partner and finished getting on the bed. Rhysand was quick to arrange the pillows behind you, trying to keep you as comfortable as possible.

Madja approached, a gentle smile on her face as she asked for permission and adjusted your legs to examine you. The pants you wore earlier had been replaced by a light dress, shortly after your water broke.

Rhys sat on the edge of the bed, one hand holding yours while the other moved some strands of hair from your face. He did his best to secure it in the best way possible due to your position, knowing well that sweat and loose hair weren't a comfortable combination. He left a gentle kiss on your forehead, and another contraction arrived. Instinctively, you squeezed Rhysand's hand, another strangled scream escaping your lips as your whole body trembled with pain. This time, the tears that came to your eyes freely flowed down your face.

"I see the baby's head," Madja said, her eyes locking onto yours as she explained gently. "In the next contraction, I need you to push."

You nodded, not trusting your voice to respond. You were so tired, and there was still so much left for this to be over.

"It's almost over, dear, you can do it," your partner reassured you for a few seconds, but then your back burned with pain again. Your entire body, even your arms, legs, and back, pushed instinctively as your partner murmured encouraging words.

You pushed and pushed, Madja saying she could already see the head, and it was almost there. Meanwhile, Rhysand talked to you, his voice so close to your ear.

"That's it, love, it's almost there," he spoke again, his hand passing through your forehead, wiping away the sweat that accumulated.

Once again, the pain arrived, and you pushed. Relief flooded you the moment the cry of a baby filled the room, mixed with your own cry as you threw your head back. The pain disappeared, and the only thing you felt besides relief was exhaustion. The warmth of your partner moved away, his hand leaving yours, the baby's cry stopped, and you looked for your child, finding her in the arms of the man you loved. A cloth wrapped the newborn, Rhys's arms cradling the small bundle as he walked, swinging to your side. Madja still hovered at the edge of the bed, making sure you were okay.

When your partner sat next to you again, you adjusted yourself and reached out, wanting to hold the baby. He smiled with so much joy as he passed your daughter into your arms.

"It's a girl," he murmured, and you felt tears returning to your eyes as you watched the little one. All your fatigue was forgotten as the small noise from your daughter's lips touched your heart.

Rhys extended his hand, and the baby grabbed his finger. You looked up at your partner, finding the same love you felt, shining in his eyes. He looked at you, a tender smile playing on Rhys's lips.

"Our little Ciara," you whispered, again mesmerized by your daughter. Rhysand placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and whispered an "I love you."

Your body started to feel heavy, your eyes almost couldn't stay open, the fatigue from hours pulling your consciousness.

"Rest, dear, you deserve it," was the last thing you heard before sleep took you completely.

When you woke up again, Rhysand had his back to you, rocking and murmuring something softly. Not wanting to interrupt the moment, you silently watched, your body still a bit lethargic from the previous effort.

When he turned around, it took him a moment to notice you were awake. His eyes were fixed on your daughter. He smiled gently when he realized your gaze, calmly sitting on the bed with Ciara sleeping in his arms.

"For how long did I sleep?" you whispered, not wanting to wake her. You sat up, leaning against the bedhead when Rhys offered the baby to you.

Just a few minutes. Madja said you wouldn't sleep much; your instincts would wake you up at some point to breastfeed Ciara.

Your partner communicated, and, sensing the change of location, Ciara began to move when you held her. It didn't take long for her little cry to fill the room.

Remembering the lessons you learned during pregnancy, with a bit of difficulty, you started breastfeeding the tiny baby. Her little hand instinctively grabbed your finger.

Rhys's hand reached for your face, brushing away your hair as his eyes reluctantly left their daughter to observe his partner; his body was relaxed. He rested his hand on your stretched thigh, lips pressed together, trying to contain a smile.

"I can't stop smiling every time I look at her. It's like my body fills with this... sensation, hard to explain, but it's a good feeling," he murmured, his thumb drawing circles on your leg.

You approached him, careful not to disturb Ciara, and planted a quick kiss on your partner's lips. Pulling away, you replied, "I feel it too."

Silent minutes passed; Ciara drifted into sleep on your chest. Rhys left and returned quickly, explaining the reason upon his return.

"I informed the others everything went well. Morrigan and Cassian wanted to visit, but I asked them to give us a few days alone," he said, leaning over to caress his daughter's small arm.

"I put Mor and Amren in charge of the court; they'll handle everything as we adjust to our new routine," he stepped back, heading towards another door in the room—leading to your private bathroom. "I also asked the house to prepare a bath for you. I'll check if everything's ready, and when I come back, I can take care of Ciara so you can relax in the tub."

You stood as he entered the bathroom, carefully lifting Ciara from your chest. Rhys returned silently, taking Ciara from you and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. He indicated the bathroom with a nod.

"Take your time, and call me if you need anything," he said. You nodded and walked slowly to the bathroom.

You felt strange, Ciara was no longer inside you, but your belly still had a slight protrusion. As you removed your dress and entered the bathtub, the warm water eased some of the discomfort, allowing you to relax.

Your mind easily drifted away from potential insecurities that might arise, although you knew they would return eventually. At that moment, the only thing you had the energy to think about was how cute your daughter was and how delightful it was to soak in the bath with bath salts and bubbles.

You relaxed in the bathtub for a while, washing the sweat from your body and taking a moment to tend to your hair. Your thoughts oscillated between enjoying the magically heated water for a few more minutes and checking on your partner and daughter. However, you didn't need to make a decision because you heard a gentle knock on the door.

Your voice was soft and weary as you signaled for Rhysand to enter – it could only be him, after all. As your partner opened the door, he carried a towel and a change of clothes. The smile that formed on his lips mirrored the one on Rhysand's face. He handed you the towel as you stood up, and the soft fabric enveloped your body for drying. Soon, you were dressed in the warm and comfortable clothes your amazing husband had brought.

"Where's Ciara?" Your curiosity and concern prompted the question. Rhysand placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and turned to grab a hairbrush as he answered.

"She fell asleep after feeding; I put her in the crib," he walked behind you, a murmur escaping your lips, signaling that you had heard his response. His hands were gentle as he worked through your hair, the brush smoothly untangling the strands that had become knotted during the intensity of childbirth.

"I want to stay close to her tonight. I don't feel comfortable leaving her alone in a room on her first day of life," your voice was no more than a whisper, and despite the concern engulfing your body, a hint of embarrassment for not being able to leave her was present too.

Your husband's shortly nasally laughter made you turn around to find his gaze as he finished brushing your hair. He didn't say anything, but one of his hands went to your cheek, Rhys's thumb tracing gentle circles. With the other hand, he placed the brush on the countertop behind you.

"I figured you'd want that," he whispered, his face approaching yours, and your foreheads touched. The soft smile remained on Rhys's face. Instinctively, your eyes closed as he neared, and you brought your lips close to his, planting a gentle kiss.

"That's why I did this," his hand grasped yours, and he pulled you back to the bedroom. A warm smile grew on his lips as he surveyed the scene. The bed linens had been changed to clean ones, and a tray filled with your favorite foods had been placed on the bed. Next to it was the crib that used to be in the small room designated for Ciara, and inside, peacefully sleeping, was your little baby.

You turned to your partner, your eyes moist with unshed tears. Rhysand was already looking at you, the star-speckled eyes of your partner smiling at you, the expression on his face radiating pure love. You hugged him, and his arms quickly embraced you, his warmth enveloping you. Your voice sounded muffled as you whispered a soft "I love you."

The kiss he planted on the top of your head was followed by a quiet "I love you too, my shining star."

"Come on, let's get some food in your stomach so you can watch our little one until you fall asleep."

Following your partner to the bed, you did exactly as he said: indulged in all the food he had prepared, lay on the bed facing your daughter's crib, and with Rhysand's arms around you from behind, watched the little bundle of joy until sleep pulled you into comfortable darkness.

#acotar #rhysand #fanfic #Rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #pregnancy #x reader #pregnant reader #Soft #rhysand imagine #a court of thorns and roses

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