#with Lucien

[flowerflamestars]

In the style of @kayarai, new Effloresce pov options. The Illyrian legionnaires, because Cassian's personal legion must be having a day. Get called to the human lands presumably to do a job and go home. Instead they are given rights/respect/honor/a FUTURE by the most terrifying human(?) woman any of them have ever seen in their long, painful lives. Human villager pov, things are looking up and the fae don't take our children anymore then THIS happens.

Oooo these are both delightful!

The Illyrians, in particular, are primed for this dynamic to be successful. War is their only chance out, and for them, no matter how proud they are of who they are, they're safer/better cared for/better off, miles from the mountains. It's painful, but it's true. Cassian called for them, they came because it's Cassian, but also for them.

And at first, okay, humans have always been strange.

Humans, in their bondage, with nearly nothing to give, still shared.

(Zaphael remembers the war. Zaphael will never forget that particular war for a thousand reasons, but loudest and worst, he will never forget the humans, burying Illyrian dead with their own, singing, like the bodies of bastards were anything but carrion.)

But these aren't peasants. Slaves. These are royal women, in velvet and pearls and steel.

(If Kali had a single doubt, even one, augury a drum resounding in her bones, Nesta Archeron draped in Illyrian knives was enough to tell her the whole story Cassian's face couldn't hide.)

Giving them salt. Bread. Fire. Blessing and bounty and welcome, what they had been denied since birth, the snub a part of life. To be welcomed in honor means you possess honor in the first place, a thing no properly born Illyrian, no Lord of Night, would ever imagine.

There's nothing to go back to.

There's Cassian, the best of them, the proudest, the strongest, throwing himself into the sky just to fall back to earth at the human woman's feet, a sword so feared across the Courts it had songs sung of its blood-hungry edge pressed to her tiny, fearless hand.

It is no small thing to have a liege lord, when you've been denied even the right to have a name.

(Koram is a century old. He's never seen a human, and he doesn't understand now how the hell the fae ever had them in chains. These are their ladies, not even Queens, built like they don't know what fear is. Like it is nothing, to stand against the Morrigan. Illyrian women were allow to be that once, the true fury of the sky. He knows his stories. His songs. He'd rather drown the world in blood than go back to the life he has been given. He is not old enough to remember Shahar, their true lady, but he would have followed. It is no shame, to follow instead this scarce, ruthless chance.)

It is no small thing either, to be treated like people, not fearful animals. Audacity is a very valued trait, when paired with respect. These woman are mad, maybe, no one will say. No one would dare.

But there is questions as to what the hell they're on about, when they start talking about grain and land and contracts. To be Illyrian is to know the tithe of the imperial army above all else- to be bastard born is to know you will have nothing else.

Illyrians are not sent on rescue missions. Guard details. They're considered too dangerous, too uncivilized, too lacking in fae graces.

The Archeron want them to protect their children, no lives more precious. Their elders, their knowledge.

(All these things, Elias thinks, even the richest Illyrian lord in his freezing, iron disciplined citadel, living in the ruins of a civilization they are not allowed to rebuild- all these things they've been denied. All these things these ladies seem ready to kill and die to keep their own people from losing.)

It is insanity, but it is a chance.

On the other hand, the Archeron vassals are used to impossible things.

For years and years they had no intercession- you can dispute the crown tax without a lord to speak for you. Cannot shift around the crops in fields you don't technically own, even if they're ruining you. Cannot divorce, cannot reclaim lost property, cannot, cannot, cannot.

Respect was short on the ground for Lord Archeron.

Being wrecked by debt did not, actually, rescind his title. He left no stewardship, went off and hid in the woods when the collectors came, again and again, stripping his ancestral home until no walls even stood.

The other lords might not have listened to a man so reduced, but the estate remained.

Those three bright girls remained, and there was some question as to what happened to them.

And then they came back. Nesta Archeron, their lady, in worn out clothes and ragged cloaks, her sister Elain beside her. So poor they'd shared a horse, but still they'd come. Before their own affairs were settled, they'd sought the village council, and tried to do some good in their fathers name.

The money brought back trade, the trade brought back ships, the ships brought teachers and medicine and magic, the Archeron lands once more the beating heart of trade routes that spanned the world.

It takes time, to right years of neglect.

The lose their best every year, stolen away, their children. Women who laugh too bright, men who look too faraway. The fae come always, and then, so too, do the men.

Their ladies may run things in their father's name, but they have no legal claim to do so forever. Heiresses must marry.

And then, out of nowhere, the Lady Elain did.

A cousin, they say, an Archeron.

Not a drop of Archeron blood in that one, the vassals know. It cannot be felt, his claim. It helps, however, that he does not seem intent to enforce it to do anything but keep neighboring lords away. To protect their farms. To hold Lady Elains hand and spend his days fixing problems a Lord should not have even seen.

It takes time to notice, the fae do not come.

Not to their cradles, not to their fields. Not from the sea or to the shore.

It is the first year in memory of such safety.

And then, the gheas.

They are vassals, bound in blood to their land. When the binding breaks, all are meant to die. A complete and fae punshiment: to be erased, to be forgotten.

As though it is nothing, their lady tells them the binding in broken.

Like doom can be forestalled.

That not only have their lives been saved, they are offered places on Archeron's personal property. Equally, without servitude or cost. An escape, to somewhere that will be safe, with war on the horizon. The Archerons now, like the Archeron of old, take care of their own. Here, or on any shore.

A pride once, what was becoming a pride again.

There is fae blood among them, of course. Even now, centuries later, a rogue trait will spill over. The millers daughter has eyes like an owl, yellow, and the Lady Nesta provided glasses to hide the color. There have always been those who run too fast, who can breathe water, who live just a little too long. They often find themselves a true welcome on Archeron ships, half the crews of a continent where such mixture, such society, is safe.

Humans under the wall have never forgotten the war. It is songs they sing still, of freedom. Of fighting. Of Jurian who gave of himself to save hundreds from the wicked Clythia. Of Fatimah, who wrapt her braid around a fae princes neck as he slept, killed right in the bower he'd stolen her away to. In stories, they love fae and they kill fae.

In stories, they remember Illyrians.

Honor, kindness, devastating violence.

Fae castes are nothing to them.

But it is not nothing, for the Archerons, to share this bounty. They, who could fly away, sail away, to delay whatever punishment may come to bring along all who dare.

It is a return of heroes out a legend, when they, farmers and merchants and weavers, need it most.

#There is both a punishing and wonderful sense of destiny haunting our main characters #Elain and Nesta WOULD have been happy forever #with Lucien #in their house #running their business #making what was prosperous once #once again #But Lucien and Elain can't hide from the crown forever #Nesta can't ignore all her dreams #they don't know what or who their mother was #but she is in them and it will show #They've learned too hard no one will ever take care of them but themselves #and they just keep extending that reach #their vassals #the Illyrians #the low fae #the human survivors #this is a bad day for everyone about to get A LOT WORSE #I'm loving these asks thank you! #effloresce extras

[zilmart]

"My Lord, you are coming back, aren't you?"

Insta | Twitter

#the sandman netflix #the sandman #sandman #lucienne #lucienne the librarian #lucienne the sandman #matthew the raven #matthew the sandman #artists on tumblr #fanart #art #digital art #morpheus #dream #lucien the librarian #raven #illustration #we literally need more of lucienne #the sandman fanart #vivienne acheampong #I'm in tears thank you so much for the comments #myartfzilm

[firsttarotreader]

AND we have the video! By @/joeismillers on X! 🥵🥵

https://x.com/joeismillers/status/1768350621411782707?s=46&t=67rZ3XA7w2z6szQQNcLc1Q

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #the uninvited #lucien flores

[elvhendis]

Had to draw Lucien again 🥹

#lucien vanserra #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #myart #elvhendis #fanart

[nuveau-deco]

Hexagonal Tea Box with Fucus (Algae) Decoration. Designed by Lucien Bonvallet and made between 1902 and 1911 in Paris, France. Medium is embossed solid silver coated with an iridescent black finish. Musée d'Orsay inventory number: OAO 1882.

(Source: musee-orsay.fr)

#tea caddy #bottles #decorative arts #Lucien Bonvallet #early 1900s #art nouveau #french design #metal #silver #black #b&w #iridescent

[gacougnol]

LUCIEN CLERGUE

Nu de la mer, 1965

#lucien clergue

[a7estrellas]

PEDRO PASCAL on the set of ‘The Uninvited’

#pedro pascal #lucien flores #the uninvited #pedropascasledit #ppascaledit #so cute

[fadedday]

Photography by Lucien Clergue

Nu de l'été de la Garde Freinet. 1970

#lucien clergue #nudephotography #artistic nude #art nude #photographic nude

[ervotica]

THIS. THIS IS LUCIEN

#UGHHHH #screaming without the s #he could do whatever he wants to me #lucien vanserra #lucien vandaddy

[amandapearls]

𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼: 𝓔𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓷 & 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓮𝓷 🌺

My lovely friend @melphss and I were able to commission with insanely lovely art by @jjflorentina

The artist did such an incredible job showing Elain and Lucien in a sweet embrace.

@melphss thought this quote from Elain in ACOWAR reminded her of a quote from Jane Eyre so I attached both of them. I thought it was a lovely correlation.

Elain: “It felt.. strange, like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib?”

Jane Eyre: “I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me.”

Link to Instagram post

Characters belong to Sarah J Maas

#elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #acotar #pro elucien #mates #lucien #elain x lucien #elain

[pandoa]

in every new game, there's a jumin han waiting to be discovered...

(malleus is just happy he finally got invited to something)

#twst is not an otome!!! #ngl i kinda only added malleus bc i needed one more 'serious' character to complete it lol #i don't play enough games to know another character #honorary love interest fr (he's close enough) #this is all for jokes btw lmao #mystic messenger #obey me #lovebrush chronicles #for all time #tears of themis #mr. love queen's choice #love and deepspace #jumin han #lucifer obey me #lucien #malleus draconia #clarence clayden #zayne

[elleybug]

big bro and baby bro 🔥🍁

#my art #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #acowar #acotar #acosf #brother vansass

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY

☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!

☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s

☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀

RHYSAND

“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”

“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”

Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead

He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.

“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.

“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight

Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.

Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.

“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”

He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy

In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban

The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.

“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer

Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…

YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹

ERIS

“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”

He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.

“Is that so?”

You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.

“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”

You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.

Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated

And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.

But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house

You are a mess. An absolute mess

You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.

The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time

When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.

When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired

When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.

After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.

“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in

“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.

“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”

He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses

“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”

You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed

“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head

AZRIEL

“Okay.”

That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.

But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered

In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside

Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most

So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist

He sluts around the house

Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out

Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.

Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.

He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.

Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.

You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.

CASSIAN

Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.

Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.

“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”

Tha man is flabbergasted

He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that

Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it

He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban

Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch

A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.

An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.

Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.

No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together

After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.

You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day

Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really

When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom

Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days

Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr

LUCIEN

Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate

“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.

You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.

Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.

“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.

He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.

“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”

You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.

“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”

You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile

“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.

He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good

Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work

🏷️: @thelov3lybookworm @redbleedingrose @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @rowaelinsdaughter @artists-ally @berryzxx @aroseinvelaris @cupidojenphrodite @jeannineee @daycourtofficial

#talkswithamara #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel #rhysand #azriel x reader #eris vanserra #lucien #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #high lord rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhys #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #azriel fic #cassian fanfic #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian

[animezinglife]

"Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—and they fuck like it, too."

Lucien: [completely minding his own business]

Feyre:

#acotar #acowar #lucien vanserra #feyre archeron #the way she just STARED still sends me #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #autumn court #sjm #sarah j maas

[mylothearsonwizard]

10 notes and ill reschedule my geneticist appointment

20 notes and ill refill the prescription ive been putting off cuz i dont wanna go to the pharmacy

50 notes and ill brush my teeth every night this week

100 notes and ill send some of my poems out to a publishing company

300 notes and ill switch therapists

1000 notes and ill drink 3 whole glasses of water today

#[Lucien]

[bluetimeombre]

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

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

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

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

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

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

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

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

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

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

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

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

Just to show him you could.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

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

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

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

Not your whole life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azriel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, this would destroy you.

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

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

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

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

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

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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

Your wings.

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

Gone, all gone.

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

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

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

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

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

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

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

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

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

There was a knock, rattling the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cry. You sob. You scream.

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

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

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

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

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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

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

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

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

It was always you.

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

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

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

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

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

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

Mate. Mate. Mate.

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

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

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

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

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

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

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

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

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

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

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

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

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Cassian.'

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

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

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

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

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

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

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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

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

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

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

'Azriel?' you called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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