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#a court of thrones and roses
sareeen · 26 days
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Unknown Touches for a Lady
Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader
Summary: Y/N never thought she would be married to the spymaster of the Night Court. However, they are undoubtedly married and nothing will save her from the night ahead of her.
Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, lovely azriel
Here –> Part 2 Masterlist
A/N: The idea that popped into my head today and I didn't get up until I wrote it. :)
English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake.
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Y/N felt the bed sink in beside her and someone, her husband, fold up the edge of the blanket and slip quietly under the duvet.
Y/N felt as if she would suffocate with fear.
Two hours ago, they had gone through the ceremony where she was forced to marry the spymaster of the Night Court in a luxurious setting.
For a purpose, her father said as he adjusted her veil.
It was nothing more than a means to make a deal for the benefit of the Court of Nightmares. More food, more power in exchange for soldiers and a girl.
In fact, her family had eagerly offered her to the High Lord as a prospective bride, and as she was educated and intelligent enough to be chosen over the other women in the Court of Nightmares.
For a long time Y/N did not know to whom she was to be married. She had been raised from a very young age to believe that she was destined to be a wife and mother, but she never thought that it would be him.
But now she was given a chance. A chance to leave that damn evil place and be away from her family.
Today, for the first time in her life, she could see the stars and feel the gentle touch of the breeze on her skin, bringing tears to her eyes. If she was lucky, perhaps her husband would never send her back there. If she obeyed him – though the very thought made her feel sick. All her existence had consisted of nothing but submitting to others. She would have liked to have ruled over herself, but it would always be a dream, now that she was married.
The shadowsinger moved beside her, causing every cell in Y/N to warn her to run.
Well, it's happening, she thought despondently to herself and closed her eyes.
She knew exactly what her duty was. What must happen.
For this marriage to be legitimate, Y/N must give in to her husband and willingly spread her legs.
“I know you don't want to,” he said softly behind her back before gently placing his hand on her hip. Y/N jumped at the sudden touch. “But we have a duty, Y/N.”
She shuddered as the spymaster spoke her name out of his mouth. His voice was soft, but still a warning tone mixed into the words. She had no doubt that he was not often contradicted and may the Great Mother have mercy on whoever tried.
Y/N licked her lips and let out a shaky sigh, then nodded. Trembling, she turned onto her back and it took her a few seconds to gather her courage and look at her husband.
Azriel watched her silently, his figure illuminated by the faint moonlight that filtered through the gaps in the drawn curtains. Y/N could see his broad shoulder, the swelling muscles in his arm, and even the dark outline of his tattoo in the dim light.
Y/N could feel the golden brown eyes watching her warily as they scrutinized her. She was surprised to find that the shadowsinger did not return her stare for a moment and kept his gaze on her face the whole time. Perhaps he was waiting for her to make a move.
Maybe he was waiting for her to initiate.
Y/N's mouth went dry at the thought that he might have wanted her to. However, she had been raised to do what others wanted, so with all her presence of mind she slowly touched her palm to Azriel's chest. She felt warm, silky skin and felt a steady heartbeat beneath her hand as she slid it a little further away. She heard the Illyrian take a deep breath and the scarred finger she had put the gold ring on a few hours ago gently stroked the cool back of her hand.
Y/N was so startled for a moment that she forgot to breathe. Never had she imagined that the dreaded shadowsinger could be so gentle as he was now.
Perhaps behind the scars and shadows there was not a monster, but a feeling being.
A tiny germ of hope began to blossom in Y/N and she continued to caress him a little more boldly. Her hand glided down Azriel's muscular arm and Y/N was startled to find herself enjoying it.
The way the steely muscles tighten under her touch, the heat radiating from his body as if beaming up at her, inviting her to slide closer and enjoy it.
Azriel, as if hearing her thoughts, took hold of her waist and gently pulled her towards him until their chests touched.
Y/N's nightgown was so thin that the spymaster could easily feel that her nipples were hard and straining against his chest.
Azriel groaned, barely audible, and something inside Y/N stirred at the sound.
Confused, she felt wetness between her legs and some primal longing that she had never experienced before took her. She almost longed for him to return her touch. To have him caress her heated skin. It was so unfamiliar to her, and yet it was as if her body knew how to press herself against him.
Unexpectedly, she felt the hardness against her belly that made her go rigid, but Azriel just squeezed the soft flesh of her hip and didn't let her move away.
“No,” he whispered and buried his face in her hair, his thumb tracing soothing circles around her waist. “Don't be frightened. This is what happens when –“
“I'm not so clueless that I don't know what it is,” Y/N said, blushing. She thanked the Gods for the darkness. “The women explained everything to me before the wedding anyway. That this is what it takes to conceive a marriage and it's the natural reaction of every man when he touches a woman in a loose fitting nightgown.”
Azriel remained silent, but eventually he involuntarily chuckled to himself. Y/N smiled vaguely, but the man's shaking chest and voice filled her with a certain joy. It reassured her.
“Not all men,” Azriel said, wrapping a lock of her hair around his finger and tugging it gently. “But you're certainly beautiful and you're wearing very little nightgown.”
“I didn't choose it” Y/N muttered grumpily as she lowered her head to look at the said piece. It was a little translucent and she felt a twinge of anxiety when she first saw that she would have to wear it tonight.
“I thought so,” he muttered. “If it's any comfort I think it looks good on you and I like it very much.”
She had heard rumors of the shadowsinger that he hardly spoke, but they were now lying here and he was obviously talkative.
Y/N finally understood that this was Azriel's way of distracting her and calming the emotions that were raging inside her.
Her fear of the unknown and to make her comfortable with the situation. No one had ever done anything like that for her, not even her mother.
She swallowed hard and, not giving herself time to drift away from the thought, leaned into him and pressed her lips to his. She didn't know how to do this, since tonight she was getting the first kiss of her life from Azriel at the altar in front of hundreds of guests. It was more like a little peck than a kiss.
She understood this when Azriel recovered from his momentary shock and kissed her back. This was different.
The spymaster's hand slid into her hair, his fingers tangled in her ringlets as he gently tilted her head into position and everything just got better.
The angle of the kiss changed, deepened much more and something like an excited tremor began in Y/N's belly. The scent of Azriel filled her senses, the cool night mist and cedar balming her soul, her nails involuntarily digging into Azriel's biceps and it was as if he lost all restraint at that small movement.
He rolled Y/N onto her back, then towered over her and kissed her fiercely. His tongue stroked along her lower lip as if asking for admission and she hesitantly opened it and Azriel's tongue immediately made its way to hers. Y/N let her husband guide her and she was almost giddy with pleasure.
She enjoyed the way Azriel's tongue glided over hers, the weight of him pressing her almost uncomfortably into the mattress and the hot hardness between her legs.
The shadowsinger's lips moved to her chin, and Y/N gasped for air as he moved lower and lower, finding a spot in the hollow between her shoulder and neck that made her hip snap away from the bed and involuntarily rub against Azriel.
Heat flooded her face, but she was unable to pull away from him and with long, sensual strokes she wanted more, which he acknowledged with soft moans.
Strong hands now gripped her thighs and Azriel moved lower, then bucked his hips and pushed against her. His pants and Y/N's underwear blocked them, but Azriel touched a space between her legs and moved as she imagined he would when he will be inside her.
She never thought it would be like this. This overwhelming feeling of his body moving over her, which he'd then elicited from her. Sighs erupted from deep within her body and Azriel kissed her as if to absorb the sounds she was making.
“That's it” Azriel gasped as Y/N arched and their hips met. “Just like that, my beauty.”
She groaned at the endearment and watched the wings spread wide on Azriel's back with a glazed look.
The membrane made the room even darker as it blocked out what little light had crept into the room. She wanted to feel the feel of it under her fingers.
“You can touch them,” he whispered, his breathing labored by Y/N's ear. “But only if I can touch you.”
“But you already do” she gasped, a thin layer of sweat beading on her forehead.
Azriel then let go of her thighs and slid between them, then reached down to her panties and pressed the outer curve of his hand to the spot where Y/N's body throbbed and almost burned. Gasping for air, panting, she made sounds that she should have been ashamed of, but her mind was in a fog and she could not contain herself. She would be ashamed later, but for now she could only cling to Azriel's strong shoulder.
“Here, Y/N” Azriel chuckled. “This is where I want to touch you.”
Y/N bit her lip at her husband's lustfuled words and nodded.
“There –“ her throat was tight, she could hardly get the words out. “It's good there.”
“Is it?”
“Yes” she cried softly.
His hand had pulled her underwear aside and was now touching her bare skin, causing Y/N's head to bob to the side and she clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle her voice.
However, Azriel stopped her hard and gave a disgruntled squeak.
“No, Y/N,” he muttered darkly. “I want to hear you.”
His wings fluttered, drawing her attention, and she stretched out her arm. When she touched the taut, silky membrane, Azriel shuddered and rubbed her harder between her legs.
Y/N loved what she was eliciting from her husband, so she repeated the motion and this time touched her fingernail to it a little, letting it gently scratch the inside of the wing.
“Cauldron” Azriel almost gritted his teeth in pleasure and buried his face in her neck. “You drive me crazy.”
Y/N felt the same way. His hand between her legs, his lip now brushing tiny kisses on her neck. It was killing her and she felt like a bowstring being stretched, ready to snap at any moment. Something was building inside her, the warmth in the pit of her belly seemed to be tightening and it was almost unbearable.
Then Azriel slipped a finger into the wetness between her legs and she gasped for air. It was a stinging sensation, but as he curled his finger he hit a good spot in her and she began to moan.
When Azriel gently pulled it out and then slipped back in, she heard that wet squeaking sound and it made her even more excited.
She wanted to touch him too. So much so that she had the courage to slip her hand into Azriel's pants and touch his hardness.
“Y/N” Azriel gasped as he pulled away from the delicate skin of her neck and peered down at her in the darkness.
“Teach me, please” she whispered with heavy lids. “How to touch you so that you feel as I feel now.”
Azriel closed his eyes and laughed softly.
“I already feel like that” he panted, but he helped Y/N and showed her how to take him in her grip. How tightly to squeeze and when he moved his hip to move into her hand, Y/N felt herself die instantly in admiration.
“Honey” Azriel sighed. “I need to be inside you.”
She knew what he meant.
She was a little afraid, because the women had said it would hurt terribly. However, what they had just done with Azriel had never been told that she would feel like this, so she hoped the sex would be different. Just as fantastic as this.
She opened her legs wider, giving him permission to make her his. Azriel immediately pulled her underwear off her and his own pants, then took her in his arms.
He adjusted himself between her legs but stopped and the golden brown eyes almost burned her face.
“This might hurt a little” he whispered to her and stroked her cheek affectionately. “But I'll try to do it as slowly and gently as possible.”
“It's fine, Azriel” she wrapped an arm around his shoulder and that's when she felt him shiver slightly too. Well, he was nervous too. “I'm used to the pain.”
Azriel froze, then sank down on top of her, so that their naked bodies were touching.
“From now on, no one will ever hurt you again,” he growled, his voice hard and purposeful.
Then he entered her, very slowly and Y/N gasped. She tensed in pain and whimpered and Azriel took her head in both hands and kissed her.
Finally when she thought she would pass out, she felt she couldn't take it. They lay there for a long time, but Azriel pushed forward and forward and then stopped.
Y/N sighed shakily and when her pain turned into a dull throbbing, he moved.
It was awfully strange the way Azriel moved inside her. It was unfamiliar, but after a while it got better and she gasped and clung to Azriel as if he would hold her and not let her fall over the precipice.
Emboldened, he thrust his hips faster and harder toward her and pulled her toward him with one hand, making them both gasp for air.
“Gods” Y/N broke from Azriel's lips and she groaned. Somehow the man moved in a different way and it drove her mad. “There!”
As if born to pleasure his wife, he repeated the motion again and his hand slid to her breast. He took one of her nipples between his fingers, then leaned in and licked it, whereupon Y/N clamped herself around her husband's member and moaned.
“Come for me, honey.”
His finger slid to her clit and rubbed it, which triggered something inside her.
Lights exploded behind her eyelids, her insides clenched and an animalistic moan tore from her. The heat was overwhelming her and she was sure it was over, she would die here and now, but Gods - if it is death she will be glad to go with it.
Azriel's hips slammed hard against her and she felt something warm flood over her and he shuddered. She wrapped her arms around him as if to protect him and their sweaty foreheads touched as they panted with the sensations that overwhelmed them.
Y/N opened her eyes and studied Azriel's face in the dim light. His handsome face was now relaxed and a small smile lurked at the corner of his mouth, his long black lashes casting shadows across his cheek. Her breath caught as she opened his eyes and his golden brown gaze locked on her.
There was an air of kindness and contentment that was evident in the way his hand stroked gently down her side.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly and pulled out of her, careful not to hurt her. The sheet was a little bloody, but neither of them cared.
“Yes,” Y/N whispered and turned to face him as he lay down next to her. Azriel covered them with the blanket and took her hand. “It didn't hurt that much.”
He smiled and kissed her hand.
“It won't after this.”
“Will it be after this?” asked Y/N shyly but hopefully.
“There will be a lot after this.”
Y/N almost burst with joy. Maybe this marriage won't be so bad after all.
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lyssasdrafts · 3 months
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elain archeron is for the girls who are unapologetically feminine, who are called weak over and over and have to keep proving themselves, who are lovers and romantics at heart, who have a voice but just want to choose when they use it, who are quiet because they want to be and not because they don’t have any thoughts or feelings
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sapchat · 6 months
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We Are Not Our Fathers
Azriel x Reader
Summary: You get summoned to your mate and Cassian whilst they are on a mission, only to find out there was a surprise at the end of it.
Warnings: mentions of a fight, children, and an argument between two lovers.
Words: 5k
Part 1: You are here! Part 2
Fun fact: this is technically my third fanfic now, cuz I’ve got a part one for something else and I’m writing part two, I just got this idea yesterday while listening to this playlist and was like “I need angst, azriel, his mate and a child.”
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Azriel and Cassian had been at one of the Illyrian camps investigating rumors of… something. You hadn’t been paying attention when your mate told you why, he’d been getting dressed while telling. So, you could see the distraction at the time. It had been at least two hours since your mate had left and you got summoned down the bond, and a shadow seemed to tug at your hand.
So, following the bond you appeared in a typical Illyrian Steppes living room, with Azriel at the top of the steps.
“Hey, we uh, need you up here. We thought we were done but Cass found someone.” Azriel said meeting me at the bottom of the steps and grabbing a hand, rubbing his fingers on my wrist. He picked the habit up a few years into our bond, he says it keeps him grounded, especially after or during missions like these. Nodding my head, I followed the narrow steps behind him to see Cassian standing in the doorway of one of the rooms, there was a smidge of blood on the side of a wall, so I wasn’t sure what I was going to walk in on.
A little winged child was not what I was expecting. Cassian looked at me sheepishly then nodded to the side so the three of us could talk.
“So, I’m going to assume we didn’t know there was a child here?” I asked leaning against the wall.
“From what we could tell there were no reports of a child when we first started getting reports of the retaliation happening. My shadows also didn’t pick up on a child when we got here, so either he was just hiding really well because of the guests in the house, or he snuck in.” Azriel responded.
“Any idea how much he heard? Or what does his parental situation look like?” I asked, I needed to know how bad this situation could be. Especially if this child doesn’t have a family because of its father’s or mother’s choices.
“For the most part, some of them went easy. Only three of ‘em put up any real fight, hence some of the blood there by your head,” Cassian started.
“Ew, thanks for telling me that one.” I’ll just shuffle to the side.
“As for a possible guardian, he hasn’t answered any questions. He did call me a bastard though, so I guess he has listened to something while around them.” Cassian finished. He seemed almost more stressed than I. I assume because he’s become quite partial to being babysitter for Nyx in the last few months for Feyre and Rhysand to be able to go out.
“What do you think, he’s probably what four, maybe five. You have more experience in working with kids, and with Madja, what do you think his outcome is with what he’s been dealt.” Azriel asked, dragging a scarred hand down his face.
“All children are different. One could experience something awful like the death of a parent and not remember anything about it. Others could never recover from it and grow up acting out the rest of their lives. It’s just a matter of how they get help. And knowing this camp, they probably won’t get much mental help at all. You two should know that” It’s not what they wanted to hear I imagine, but it was the truth. “So, what’s the plan? I assume if you have summoned me here you want me to go talk to him?”
“Yea actually, that’s exactly what so thanks for offering that so we don’t have to ask.” Cassian states rubbing the back of his head. Little shit.
Sighing, I turn my eyes to my mates, who just shrugged. I’ve been left here with the two most awkward people when it comes to random kids. Such a surprise came from the man-child Cassian himself. I roll my eyes, but send something to calm down the bond, and turn to go into the room.
The child is on the smaller side, evidence of the winter that’s still in the mountains so it’s evident his family doesn’t have much money for food. He’s got some dirt on his clothes so he’s either been out playing today or he just doesn’t have many clothing options. His wings were on the smaller side for what we assume his age group is, so he either is just going to have slightly smaller wings, or he’s developmentally delayed for his possible age. Probably due to the lack of food and hygiene.
I step slowly into the room, trying to make my slightly tall frame smaller. “Hi there. What’s your name?”
The little boy looked at me with wide hazel eyes, a twinkle in it that I couldn’t tell meant he was scared or intrigued by my presence. “Hawthorne.”
“Hawthorne huh?” You ask, then tell him your name, “Are you okay Hawthorne?” I ask him, he sits up just a little taller, a twitch in his bat-like wing following after.
He nodded his head in response, and I nodded back in understanding. “I was wondering who you were here with buddy? It’s okay if I call you buddy, right?”
“I was with my daddy. and I don’t know if you can call me buddy. Daddy’s usually the only one that does. Daddy said it’s cause we’re friends, but I don’t know you.” He answers sheepishly looking around my body towards the end, telling me I have a shadow, likely two of them.
“Well, if I tell you something about me, and then you tell me something, then we would be friends, wouldn’t we?” He hesitates, thinking about the question then nods his head quickly.
“Okay, well you know my name already,” I say then move to sit on the corner of the bed and make it seem like I’m thinking about my fact, “One of my favorite things ever, is getting to go and watch the sunrise or sunset as it comes up or down, and it shine on the soft snow. It’s really pretty.” I say, his head perks up a little at what I tell him.
“I like that too! I also like it when it storms, 'cause that means I don’t have to go out and I get to stay inside with my daddy.” He says. I smile at his enthusiasm of getting to share something we both like.
“I’ll tell you another secret then.” His eyes get really wide, and I feel a questioning brush through the bond. “I also like it when it storms. Because that means I get to stay inside with my friends.”
“Are they your friends?” Hawthorne asks looking at Cassian and Azriel behind me.
“Yeah, those are my really good friends, Cassian and Azriel. They… came to talk to the people that were downstairs. Did you know them?” I ask, glancing at the two males behind me, who are trying to seem small, but with the size of Cassian and Azriel’s wings. They’re failing.
“It was my daddy and their friends. I heard lots of yelling. And that they called your friends bastards. So, I did when they came up here. Where is my daddy?” I looked at Azriel for an answer, he looked down and then at Hawthorne.
“We took your father somewhere so we could talk with them. Do you have a mother we could take you to? Or anyone else.” Azriel answered the child.
Hawthorne shook his head no, “Daddy says mommy died when I was little, even smaller than now. And daddy says I’m the only thing he has left. But I think that’s silly 'cause we have neighbors!”
I sigh and look at my mate and Cassian, I then look back to the hallway and back to the child, “Hawthorn I’m going to go talk with my friends really quick, are you okay here?” The boy nods his head and watches as the three of us leave the room.
It’s now my turn to rub my hands down my face. “What do we do with him? I assume mom either died in childbirth or from sickness. And now we’ve got dad where he’s going to probably be punished for what they’ve been planning.”
Cassian almost winces at the last part, “His father was one of the people to put up a fight. We’ve got him in Hewn City right now, one of the others said he’s the ring leader for wanting to try and get rid of Rhys, and ‘go back to the old ways.’”
“Gotta love males and their ever-needing reason to be on top,” Azriel said laying back against the wall across from me, one of his feet resting between my ankles.
“We asked Rhys what he thought. He thinks it should be up to you.” Cassian said.
I processed the question for a second. Thinking about the options that are available. If Hawthorne stays, he’ll be homeless, wandering the streets like Cassian did; and based on how he looks already, he probably wouldn’t last long. Or taking him with us. To Velaris and trying to find him a place there. He could stay in the House of Wind until we find somewhere or someone.
I look at Azriel and he nods, knowing what I’m going to decide. If I had it my way, there would be no children wandering the roads here in the camps. But the orphanage idea has been slow, Devlon the only one wanting to even entertain the idea.
“Take him with us. He’ll be better off in Velaris, and until we can find somewhere permanent, he can stay in the House with us all.” I say, Cassian nods knowing I’m making the decision based on what he’s told me of his past before Rhys and his mother.
“Looks like you’ll get a friend Cassian, I’ll be sure to set up playdates.” Azriel says pushing off the way and patting his brother on the back.
Cassian had a shocked look on his face, eyes following Azriel as he followed me back into the room Hawthorne was patiently waiting in.
“Hey, Hawthorne? How about you come with me and my friends for a little bit, until we can see if your father gets into trouble, okay?” I asked going in and sitting on his bed, angling my body to be eye level with the winged boy. He seemed to sit and think about it for a second, then spared Azriel a questioning look before looking back at me.
“Will I still get to do my training?”
My eyes widen just a tad. Training at five? I look over my shoulder to Cassian and Azriel in question.
“Yeah me, and Cassian can help with that. We’re both really going at flying so we can help you learn some.” Azriel told the child, putting a lot of emphasis on them being so good at flying. This seemed to make the boy happy.
“Okay then. I guess I’ll come with you. But I get to bring my toys!”
“We wouldn’t expect you to leave them behind buddy. Now where are your clothes?” I said standing from the bed and ruffling my fingers through his dark brown almost black hair.
Hawthorne jumped from the bed, his little wings flapping as he did, and ran to the dresser in the corner of the room. He pulled open a drawer almost at eye level and grabbed what little clothes sat in there. “Here they are!” He ran back over and handed them to me. He only had two shirts and another pair of pants, plus only a few pairs of undergarments.
I looked in the direction of my mate and he nodded at what I was thinking. We’ll have to get him some more clothes. I held my hand out and Azriel summoned a bag from the shadows and handed it to me. I usually use it for the farmers market, but I’ll just get a new one.
“Okay, bubs, come here and I’ll hold you while Azriel takes us back to the house.” The boy hopped over with a questioning look on his face.
“He’s going to fly both of us to your house?”
“Nope! He’s going to do something called winnow, which means,” I sat for a second thinking how to explain this to a child, “he’ll grab my and Cassian's hand, and then we’ll disappear and then reappear in the house!” Yeah, that was a great explanation.
Hawthorne seemed to question it for a second, then came over and all but crawled up into my arms. I moved the bag to my shoulder and then joined Azriel and Cassian. The three of us all looked at each other as if questioning what I’d decided.
And into the shadows we went, only for Azriel to then grab onto me tighter to glide us down to the balcony of the House of Wind. Hawthorne gripped my neck tighter looking around at all he could see of Velaris. And I knew I had made a good decision for the boy.
Feet touching the ground Hawthorne all but leaped from my arms to run and look over the balcony, pulling himself up by using his feet on the spindles to gain leverage to look out. Mouth opening by the second, I leaned back against Az watching the boy. He’s never seen so many people at once living in such a beautiful place.
“Hawthorne, wanna go get a quick snack before we get you cleaned up in a tub?” I asked leaving my mates front to join the boy at the railing. He looked up at me with wide eyes before looking back out towards the Sidra. “It’ll all still be here when we’re done. And if you’re not tired then you can even see it once the sun goes down. It looks even better.” He turned back with a slightly toothless grin and nodded enthusiastically, jumping from the side, and gripping my hand swinging from it.
Walking into the sitting room I walked the boy towards the kitchen. Already sitting on the counter was a little dinner for the boy, the House instantly knowing what was needed of it. I helped him up onto a stool he quickly dug into his dinner.
“Easy now, don’t want to eat too fast and make yourself sick,” I advised brushing a finger across his back. I walked around the counter and grabbed a small cup and filled it with water so he could drink as well.
Once he was done eating, he quickly gulped down the water and brushed his mouth on his hand, then proceeded to wipe the hand on his shirt. Boys. I grabbed him before he had a chance to run off and walked him up to mine and Azriel’s bathing room where Az sat pouring a few drops of bubbles into the bath.
I set Hawthorne down on the ground and allowed him to undress so he could climb in the bath and gave my mate a quick peck on the cheek in thanks. Admiration flowed down his side of the bond as I leaned over and started wetting Hawthorne’s hair. He splashed around a little playing with the bubbles as I washed the grime off of him.
Once I was done, I grinned and grabbed a handful of bubbles and placed them on his head. The little Illyrian quickly looked up at me and proceeded to grin. And without a moment's notice he flapped his wings in the water spraying water all over me.
We both sat in silence for a little bit, me in shock and him with a look that said, ‘Uh oh’. Then I started laughing, and Hawthorne quickly realized he wasn’t in trouble for getting water over me.
After his bath, and the fight of drying him off, and the battle of getting him dressed. I did as I had promised and walked him back to one of the balconies so he could watch the ending of the sunset and all the lights of Velaris come on. We sat quickly, him in amazement, me writing down some reports to send to Rhys in the morning.
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It was in the middle of the night I was awoken to one of Azriels shadows, Azriel rousing from sleep himself and moving a wing off of me to see what was happening. Then I heard soft padding down the hall, and a shuffling of wings. I then heard the door move a bit as someone jumped and grabbed the doorknob, and the door quietly moved open.
Raising our heads, we were greeted with Hawthorne sniffling as he waddled into the room. He looked up at the two of us from the foot of the bed, glancing back and forth. I glanced at Azriel and silently asked if he’d allow the boy in the bed with us.
Azriel looked at me, then flopped back on his stomach and grumbled “Once you feed them and let them sleep in the bed, they end up staying. Look at Cass.”
I lightly slapped his arm and raised up more and nodded to my side of the bed. Hawthorne quickly shuffled over and climbed his way into the bed and my arms. “Wanna talk about it?” I quietly asked.
He shook his head and placed his wet face into my neck. I hummed an okay and moved the blankets back over us and went back to sleep, Azriel’s wing shifting back over as he moved around.
In the morning I awoke to an empty bed, not unusual with Az doing morning training, but I distinctly remember a little boy crawling into the bed in the night as well.  
Climbing out of bed, a shadow greeted me happily and started leading me in the direction of the living room; and was greeted by Cassian holding the boy in the air telling him to get ready, and Azriel sat in a chair drinking tea.
“If he breaks something Cassian, you get to tell Rhys.” I said, walking further into the room and joining Azriel on the armrest, his hand wrapping around my hip and patting it. Azriel tilted his head in a way saying, ‘That’ll be fun’ and went back to his morning readings.
“Hey, we learn to fly by being dropped from different heights, I figured you prefer it in the living room, where he could land on the couch.” The general replied, letting go of the boy and allowing him to flap-glide his way to the couch in question.
I let the two continue and looked down to my mate, “Wanna join me in the kitchen, so we could talk about H-A-W-T-H-O-R-N-E’s F-A-T-H-E-R?” He nodded his head and took my hand to lead me in the direction of said room. Already on the counter was my breakfast, courtesy of the house which I thanked, and a steaming glass of coffee.
“I went earlier this morning. He’s not wanting to give us anything. Rhys wants to make an example of them.” Azriel said going straight to the point. I looked up from putting jam on my toast, my eyes trailing to the sounds of the child’s laughter and Cassians' praise.
“What about Hawthorne?”
Azriel sighed, already knowing I wasn’t going to let this go without a fight. Either with him or our High Lord. “Rhys is going to leave that up to you. His recommendation thought was to find someplace around Velaris so he wouldn’t be in a camp where issues may arise in the future. When he’s older.”
I looked sharply up at what he said. “What is that supposed to mean?” I made sure to keep my voice somewhat low so as to not raise attention to us.
“We both know what he means. He’s just trying to cover future bases because he has Nyx now.” Azriel tried to calm down, resting a hand on top of mine. I pulled it back from him immediately.
“No Azriel I don’t know what you mean. He’s a child what are you two trying to say?” I was angry. He’s five, if that. What was there to possibly worry about to ‘keep an eye on him in the future.’
Azriel said your name then continued, “His father was plotting to get a group of people to kill Rhys. Maybe worse.” Azriel almost seemed angry at the position I had taken, in defending this threat against his High Lord. But the threat was a child.
I glared at Azriel and all but snarled when I said, “Sons are NOT their fathers Azriel. You of all people should know that.” I even pointed in his direction for emphasis on my statement, his hazel eyes going wide in surprise at it. Shock and hurt flowed down the bond, and I pushed my feelings of anger towards him.
Turning I leave my breakfast to go join Cassian and the deemed threat in the other room to watch him stretch his wings.
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It was later in the evening, after playing with the child and having Cassian take us down to the shopping district so he could have more clothes that I had finally let myself think about the argument from earlier in the day. I had already put Hawthorne to bed almost two hours ago and was down in the kitchen sipping wine. Setting the glass down on the counter I ran my hands down my face in frustration, and then came some shuffling.
Turning my head, I expected Azriel but found Hawthorne. Bleary-eyed from what little sleep he got. “Hey, what are you doing back up, it’s late.”
The little dark-haired child rubbed his eyes, his other hand gripping a little black cat stuffed animal he begged to have. “I have trouble sleeping in the bed. It’s super soft.” His eyebrows furrowed together and then he said, “The shadows also keep me awake by playing with my hair.”
A few of Azriel’s shadows had taken a little liking to the boy, much unlike their master, it seemed. “Well. Since you’re awake, want some hot chocolate?” I asked, the boy seemed confused at my words and asked what hot chocolate was. “Hot cocoa?” He shook his head in confusion again.
“Come on, I’ll make us some cups and you can try it,” I said lifting him up to sit on the counter and wiped my finger at some of the dried drool on his cheek.
Turning to a cabinet, I grabbed two mugs to set beside him and continued to pull supplies out to make the cocoa. Hawthorne watched every move I made, measuring out the ingredients, putting them into a pot to warm up, and even helping stir every now and then. Once it was done, I moved it over to the side to allow it to cool a bit more before putting the drink into the mugs.
“Now here’s the fun part. I like to add some extra things to mine.”
Hawthorne seemed interested in whatever it was I was going to add.
“I like to take this white stuff, called whipped cream, and put it on top, then add this stuff here called cinnamon. Do you wanna try mine and see if you like it for yours?” I asked, Hawthorne seemed to think deeply about it, furrowed eyebrows, and all then eagerly nodded his head. I carefully handed him my cup and he took a little sip, whip cream getting on his upper lip and nose, then made a loud ‘ahh’ sound after gulping it down.
“I’d like some please!” The boy eagerly handed my mug back and watched me add it to his smaller mug.
We sat side by side sipping at our drinks, Hawthorne’s eyes drooping more and more as he drank before he set his almost empty mug on the counter and yawned.
“Ready to go back to bed?” He seemed a little hesitant and then said something that broke my heart.
“I don’t wanna sleep by myself, I’m scared someone’s going to come and get me.” He didn’t want to make eye contact.
I looked at him a little inquisitively, “Why do you think someone’s coming to get you?”
“Well, I really liked being with Daddy, even if I didn’t get much food. And then you guys came and took my daddy and me, because daddy was being bad. But you have been really nice, and Cassin has been helping me fly, and even though Azzie don’t like me he still lets me play with his shadows, and you guys have food and it’s warm-“ I stopped him before he could continue working himself up.
“Hawthorne, you don’t have to go back to the camp if you don’t want to. You know that right?” I said rubbing his hand in a comforting way.
He seemed sheepish as he nodded then asked, “I would get to stay here with you? And Cassin and Azzie?”
I sighed trying to think of an answer, “I don’t know if you’d get to stay with us. You could go to another place that would love you very much.”
Hawthorne didn’t like that answer. Tears forming in his little hazel eyes, lips wobbling, and I knew I needed to backtrack.
“Hey, how about this buddy?” He sniffed and ran a hand over his eye, “How about we pause this conversation, and me and you go sleep? Then we can talk when I get some answers.” Answers only the Inner Circle could answer.
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It took Hawthorne only 20 minutes to fall back to sleep in his room and me another hour lying beside Azriel. It was early morning when I awoke to Azriel getting up himself.
“Think you could call a meeting about little bits?” I asked rubbing my hands down my face.
Azriel sighed and sat back in the bed beside me. “You shouldn’t get attached to him; you know that. And it’s not that I think that he’s going to become his father or that I hate him. I heard you guys’ last night, and what you both talked about.” He sat there for a second licking his lips as I cringed knowing he heard us, “I do like him. He’s a sweet kid, and I’m glad he’s had a better life than most Illyrians-”
I stopped him, “I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. I know you’re not your father and I should’ve never. Ever. Compared you to him.”
“I know. You were angry and believed you had to defend him. I’m proud of you for that. But if you really want to discuss what happens with him, then I think we should talk.” Azriel said, grabbing my hand and holding it as he laid back across my stomach.
I nodded, and we started talking. About all outcomes for Hawthorne. What would happen to him, how he’d be raised, all of it. Then we went to the River House. And I joined the Inner Circle as we talked about him. Rhysand’s concerns, Amren’s and Mor’s surprise, Feyre’s support in what would happen, and how it would all be dealt with.
At the end we had an answer.
It was later in the day that I asked Hawthorne if he wanted to go walk around town with Azriel. I was slowly walking behind as Azriel walked somewhat awkwardly with the boy, talking with him as Hawthorne was eagerly pointing around at different shops.
Hawthorne’s eyes widened and grabbed Azriels’ hand, the older Illyrian tensing up at the innocent little child grabbing his scarred hands and dragged him over to a bakery to press his face into the window and stare at the sweets.
“Can we go in there?” Hawthorne asked eagerly looking between Azriel and me. Azriel looked to me for some guidance, letting me control the situation. Nodding my head, Azriel led the three of us into the bakery and let the boy pick what he wanted and got me my favorite treat too.
I led Hawthorne back outside so we could eat, take in the sights, and talk to Hawthorne like we needed to.
“Hey Hawthrone, remember the conversation from last night? Can me and Azriel talk to you about it?” Hawthrone seemed more downtrodden at the reminder of last night but nodded his head.
“Hawthorne, I got to visit your dad before we left, and I just wanted you to know that he isn’t going to be able to come home. And because of that, we need to find you a good home.” Azriel started out, not telling the boy his father wasn’t going to come home. Rhys did have to make an example and couldn’t just pardon him because he had a son.
“Azriel and I have been talking with some people, and we’re wondering what you want to do,” I said, handing the boy a napkin to clean his face as he ate. He glanced between Azriel and me, then down at the table.
“Where would I go if Daddy can’t take me?” he asked shyly.
“Well, we could find you a loving home here, in the city. Where you would be cared for and get to learn all kinds of things with kids your age and everything. Another choice is we find you a home back at your camp, somewhere that’d be able to care for you, and you’d get to be with other Illyrians your age.” Hawthorne seemed to think the two options over. Then Azriel looked at me and I nodded.
“Or” Azriel started, “You could stay with us, and we could raise you. Then you’d stay with Cassian and us, get to meet the High Lord and Lady, and all our friends, while going to school here in Velaris. And in a few years, we’d take you to a camp called Windhaven and you’d train to be a warrior.” Hawthorne’s eyes got wider and wider as Azriel continued, looking back and forth between us two, his grin starting to match mine.
“So. Which would yo-“ Azriel didn’t finish as the tiny Illyrian lunged over the table into both of us.
“YOU I WANNA STAY WITH YOU!” Hawthorne yelled excitedly, gripping the both of us as I laughed.
Azriel looked at me, love flowing down the bond and him receiving the same back from me at the new addition to the family.
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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year
Text
Two lessons in one
Rhysand x reader
Summary: You’ve agreed to let the High Lord teach you how to fly. Rhys shows you how your wings have more uses than one...
Warnings: Smut (NSWF 18+, minors DNI), swearing. Let’s get spicy with some wing play and a side of praise 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️ 
Words: 4k
DAY 3 OF 5 FOR 500! I hope you like it ;)
Thank you to @brekkershadowsinger​ and @sadiebluewin​ for requesting 31. Wing play 👀
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Bile rose in your throat as you peered over the cliffs edge. The ground looked further away than before, the trees and and rocks that waited below a painful distance away. You stepped back before your vision rolled further – you were very high up.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned to find Rhysand watching you with an amused smile, his hands casually in his pockets as he leaned against a large boulder.
“You’re only going to scare yourself further,” he grinned, delighting in your fear.
Prick. He chuckled softly, hearing your curse in your mind.
You took in your surroundings, the wind pushing your hair out of your face as you tried to calm your heart. Rhys had winnowed you both up here with the promise you would learn to fly by sundown.  It was a generous offer, one that you couldn't refuse at the time. But nothing could have prepared you for the terror you felt at the thought of launching into the air, and all you could picture was the free fall that awaited.
“Calm your heart, Y/N. That’s the first step.”
You took a deep breath, forcing your eyes forward instead of down. The sun was strong at the centre of the horizon, and the winds gentle – the perfect condition for flying Rhys had said.
“Perhaps we can try another day?” you asked sheepishly, your wings tucked tight at your back, refusing to open, they felt as heavy as your limbs.
Rhys tutted, shaking his head as he pushed off the rock and strolled towards you. Two firms hands rested at your shoulders, forcing you to face the edge again. You instantly pushed back, but Rhys held you in place. You willed your knees not to give out.
“An Illyrian scared of heights?” he teased, his low voice playful in your ear.
If you weren't frozen in fear, you would have turned and swatted him. “Don’t t-tease,” you gritted, cursing at the way your stuttered.
Rhys’s laugh sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt him remove his hands and slide up beside you. “Extend your wings,” he said. His voice, while calm, was laced with a command that was impossible to ignore. The muscles on your wings pulled against your will, and you flapped them a few times to stretch.
“Good,” Rhys said approvingly. “Now, do you feel the direction of the wind from here?”
You nodded. “It’s coming from the west.”
“That’s right. That means once you level, the currents will force you east. Remember to tilt left once you stabilise.”
You nodded again. You had been over the theory of flying multiple times – now was the time to execute. You couldn't help the voice in your head that screamed at you to turn around.
“Could we not launch from a lower height?” you asked, a last attempt to get out of it.
Rhys levelled a look before slinking behind you again. “No,” was all he said before he pushed your back, sending you careening of the cliffs edge.
You gasped, air filling your lungs as wind ripped all around you. After a few seconds your voice finally came through, a shriek sounding as you flapped your wings desperately to try and gain the momentum you needed.
Rhys’s husky laugh filled your mind then. You gritted your teeth, straining the muscles in your back as you flapped and flapped. You wouldn’t die today, if only out of spite of him.
You’re almost there, steady yourself, Rhys coached mind to mind. You clenched your eyes shut, the muscles in your back burning as you strained for that final bit, before you felt the wind underneath your wings begin to work with you. You spread them wide, letting the air push you up as you began to soar. Your breaths were pants and sweat stung at your eyes, your heart pounding with adrenaline.
There you go. Remember to lean left.
You’re a fucking bastard, you cursed back. Rhys’s laugh filled your mind once again, and you tried to ignore how excited it made you feel. The Gods could not save him from the lashing you would give once you landed.
You should try soaring lower, use the trees as obstacle practice.
Without replying, you veered closer to the ground, flapping your wings for the occasional boost. The tall pines became clearer now, and you could see the details of shrubbery and flowers in the fields below. If you only needed one reason to learn to fly, it was for the beauty of it.
You were weaving through the trees now, swinging left and right as you dodged around their branches.
That’s it, you’ve got the hang of it.
You heard the flap of Rhys’s wings as he flew overhead, now lacing through the same trees you were. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, and the cheer that followed. You felt so free, so alive.
Rhys slowed his pace then, falling to glide beside you, his violet eyes warm as he smiled at you with pride. His beauty alone stole your breath away on a regular day, but his expression now, with the touch of passion – he was the most handsome male you had ever seen.
It was idiotic to keep your eyes on the High Lord instead of ahead, and you learned that quickly as you flew straight into a tall pine, smacking your face into it’s solid trunk.
————
You didn't remember the impact, but the next thing you knew branches were breaking your fall before you landed in the field below with a thud.
Groaning, you rolled to your side as tears stung at your eyes. The grass beneath you was soft, and you quickly realised your body had crushed a blanket of purple that now cushioned where you lay. Blinking as your wings twitched, you looked around you. You had landed in a lavender field.
Rhys soared in then, landing with a soft thud and a howl of laughter that made you see red. Your jaw ticked as you pushed yourself up and glared at the male, your nose throbbing in pain as you bought yourself to your knees.
“Oh Cauldron, Y/N!” Rhys chuckled, clutching at his stomach before bursting into another fit of laughter. You held your glare.
“I’m sorry,” he said between breaths, raising his palms in innocence. “I truly am, but that was the funniest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing.”
Pink tinged your cheeks as you wiped the dirt from your palms, your fae blood already working to heal your face.
“What happened?” Rhys toyed, still very much amused with your fall.
“I was distracted,” you ground out, unable to hide your irritation.
“By me?” Rhys placed a dramatic hand on his chest, his eyebrows raised and dark lashes fluttering.
“No,” you lied, and Rhys tilted his head in a way that said he was unconvinced. He threw his head back a laughed one more time, before wading through the tall purple lavender to help you.
“I’m not trying that again,” you seethed, letting him pull you to your feet.
“Perhaps not today,” he grinned, strong arms looping behind your knees and arms as he picked you up. You didn't resist, but also avoided his eyes as embarrassment took over. Rhys was still smirking when he winnowed you both back to Velaris.
————
It wasn't until later that night when the High Lord checked in on you again. You had fled to your guest room the moment you arrived, needing the rest of the afternoon to recover, bathe and rest. Even hours after, your muscles were sore and your face stung to the touch. But it was your bruised ego that kept you in your room well past supper.
Rhys knocked gently, and you spun on the stool of your vanity from where you were admiring the splatter of bruises that now painted your body. “Come in,” you murmured, not making the effort to turn your head.
Rhys walked over, his hands in his pockets as you saw him marking the bruises. He sucked in a sharp breath. “That tree really handed it to you, Y/N.”
You spun in your chair, scowling at your High Lord. “I’ll be fine.”
Rhys smirked, stepping closer as he pushed your hair over your shoulder, before gently fingering a bruise forming on you collar bone. “I know you will,” he said softly, his touch sending a ripple of goosebumps all over.
You blushed, looking up at him with heavy lashes. “I’m yet to bite your head off,” you said with an utter lack of threat.
Rhys raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”
“For pushing me,” you confirmed, eyes narrowing. Rhys nodded, knowing this was coming.
“Have at it then,” he said, waving his hand as he casually plonked himself at the end of your bed, throwing one long leg over the other. His utter male arrogance was what fuelled your next choice of words.
“You’re a prick.”
Rhys threw himself back onto the mattress and laughed.
“You are!” you exclaimed, your voice a little louder this time.
“I know,” was his answer.
“I could have died!”
Rhys leaned up on his elbows, levelling a look at you. “You would not have died.”
“I was falling to my death.”
“And I would have caught you.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but closed it quickly as his words sent a flutter through your heart, your cheeks heating at the thought of his arms around you again. You cursed yourself for being so hopeless.
Sighing, you turned back to the vanity, eyeing your wings in the mirror. “I’m a sorry excuse for an Illyrian. I can barely use the damned things.”
Rhys stood now, making his way over to you. He lowered himself to find your eyes in the mirror, his expression much more serious. “You’re very lucky to have those damned things.”
“I know,” you sighed, before turning to face him. “I am grateful,” you nodded, knowing how rare it was for an Illyrian female to have avoided being clipped. “But until I can truly learn to fly, they’ve always been more of a nuisance.”
Rhys’s violet eyes lit up, and the start of a feline grin formed at his lips. “You know, your wings are good for things beyond flying,” he said, his voice low.
You frowned, turning to face him. “Really? Like what?”
His grin grew as he leaned down, his face now inches from your own. “Well, they can make you… feel good.”
Your eyes darted across his face, trying to focus through his handsomeness as his fresh scent filled your nose. You mind screamed at you to kiss him, and you had to physically swallow the thought down.
“Wh-what do you mean?” Your own voice was barely a whisper, and you felt your face and chest flush.
Rhys flicked his eyes to your bust, catching the change of colour, which fuelled his cocky smirk. “What I mean, is like this.” He extended his hand, before one sultry finger ran down the length of your wing, his touch feather light. Shivers rippled from the point where he touched you, spreading all over your body. It was impossible to ignore the throb in your core, and you cursed yourself for the soft whimper that escaped you.
Rhys smiled, pleased with the result. “See what I mean?”
You broke his gaze then, feeling shy. “Do yours do that?”
Within seconds Rhys’s wings appeared on his back, night magic swirling his frame as he extended his impressive wing span.
“Why don’t you find out darling?” he winked at you, before taking your hands to pull you up as he stepped backwards to your bed. He sat down, his legs wide as he pulled you to stand between them. Raking his eyes over you, his smile was mischievous as he waited patiently for you to make the next move, his hands resting on your hips. You met his eyes, their violet glow boring through you. Your own hand raised instantly, you just needed to touch him…
Rhys growled as your own fingers ran across the leather-like skin of his wings as you slowly traced its curves and arches. “That feels…” he grumbled, his voice low and thick. “Sensational.”
Rhys grabbed your wrists then, flipping you onto the bed, your own wings splayed against the white silk sheets. Rhys hovered overhead, drinking in the site of you as he leaned on one elbow. While reaching for your wings, his hand paused in the air, violet eyes finding yours.
“Is this ok?” he asked, sincerity swirling in his night sky eyes. Your own flicked down to his lips, before you placed a gentle hand on the side of his face.
“Yes,” you whispered.
Rhys covered your mouth with his. The kiss was soft, testing, even a little shy on your end – this was new territory for you both. While you had spent months fawning over the High Lord, and likely doing a bad job at hiding how flustered he made you, you had assumed his flirtatious remarks and teasing weren’t a true sign of mutual attraction.
Yet here you were, pressed against the mattress as Rhys shifted his body weight on top of yours. The feeling of him on top of you alone made your insides throb, and your breathing hitched as cool fingers traced your wings again. Goosebumps rippled across your skin as your fingers found the roots of his hair, latching on and bringing him closer.
Rhys grinned against your mouth, his rasped laugh like music to your ears. He propped himself up, looking down at you before nudging your nose with his own. You smiled up at him, greedily reaching out and using both hands to run vertical lines along the membrane of his wings. There was a slight pull in Rhy’s brow as he bit his lower lip, a deep hum rumbling through his chest.
“You wicked thing,” he said, flashing a grin before again pressing his lips against yours. His kiss was more demanding now, as his tongue traced the outside, begging for entry. You let him in, and Rhys kissed you with the expertise only Prythian’s most handsome High Lord could. It was strategic, and he hit every point just right. From the pace of his tongue, to the occasional dip to kiss your neck, all while tracing and rubbing the spots on your wings that had you shaking beneath him. You were utterly soaked, and completely at his will.
Drunk in his scent and touch, you barely felt the male undressing you, and you were quickly bare beneath him. His eyes darkened at the sight of your naked body as he drank you in.
“This is unfair,” you complained, throwing a coy smile to him. “Why should I be the only one undressed?”
Rhys flashed a grin before pulling his own shirt off, his muscles straining as he raised his arms to pull it over his head before tossing it to the floor. While making quick work to discard his pants, you couldn't help but reach out and touch his abdomen, your fingers softly grazing his tight and muscular build.
Rhys grabbed your hand then, kissing your palm. “These hands,” he said, pecking it again, “have far too much power over me.” Pulling one of your fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirled sensually around and around, and all you could do is think of how it might feel against your slit.
He popped your finger from his mouth, sliding down to the edge of the bed, his hands digging into the flesh at your hips.
“Be a good girl for me darling, and spread your legs.”
Gods, that sentence alone could have undone you. You did not need to be told twice, and Rhys’s hands now pressed your thighs apart as he placed gentle kisses along your stomach and thighs, making his way to your core.
You jolted at the first lick, his tongue running painfully slow up your slit before he hummed against you. “You are delicious.” Rhys continued to lick and suck at your core with expertise, causing your toes to curl as you clutched at the sheets.
Bringing himself up to your face now, Rhys kissed you deeply, and you could taste yourself on his lips as your tongues moved together. His hand slowly slinked back up to your wing, while the other found your core as two fingers dipped into your entrance. Your body contorted as pleasure sparked from both ends as he kept his lips on yours, working his fingers and hands in unison.
You were a moaning, writhing mess, and in a state of shock as the High Lord stimulated you from both ends.
“That’s it gorgeous, let yourself go for me.”
Your eyes found his, now wide with pleasure as your mouth formed an ‘o’. He held your gaze, his smile predatory as he watched your orgasm take over. Your back arched, and you felt liquid spill from you as your tunnel clenched around his fingers over and over. Your wings were twitching under the lazy swirl of his hand, and you let out a series of moans you had never heard from your own mouth. “That’s it, good girl,” Rhys coached, slowing his movements as you rode out your orgasm.
Coming down from your high, you were overcome with the need to touch Rhys again, to return the favour. You grabbed his shoulders, flipping yourself on top of him as you closed your mouth of his. Rhys chuckled into the kiss, pulling you back as his violet eyes darted between yours. “What are you doing princess?”
You smiled back knowingly. “Saying thank you.” Rhys raised his eyebrows, an amused smirk resting on his face. He opened his mouth to retort, but he didn't have a chance as you palmed his hardened cock. Throwing his head back in pleasure, you couldn't help the excitement you felt at the sight of this gorgeous Illyrian who was now moaning under you. You ran your hand along his shaft, using your thumb to apply pressure to the head.
“Oh sweetheart,” Rhys groaned, his hands finding the roots of your hair and pulling you in for another kiss. You continued to work your hand along his shaft, delighting at the liquid that seeped from the tip. You had to taste him.
Sliding down the bed, you grabbed his cock, bringing the tip to your lips and licking the liquid that pooled there. His taste was musky yet sweet, and it drove an animalistic instinct in you. You kissed the tip before running your tongue along his length. Rhys clutched at his own chest, letting out a deep rumble before his hands found the roots of your hair. You closed your mouth over the tip, using your tongue to swirl around as you worked his base.
“Ugh, Gods Y/N,” Rhys grunted, his body jerking in pleasure. “You’ll be the death of me.”
You smiled against his shaft, pushing him deeper in your throat as you sucked and slurped at his base. You could tell your High Lord was doing his best to control himself, but he couldn't help the small ruts he was making against your face.
Rhys gently pried your from his cock then, pulling you in for another deep kiss before turning you under him. It was a game now – whoever was on top was in charge, and you enjoyed both positions.
Rhys ran his eyes over you again, his expression fond yet lustful. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, crawling back off your bed to stand at it’s edge. “C’mere sweetheart.” You held his gaze as you moved to him, both of your chests heaving with heavy breaths as you stood before each other, naked. He raked gentle hands over you, starting at your wings before moving to your neck, gently caressing the hollow of your throat before sliding lower to cup and squeeze your breasts. It took all you had to stay standing.
Suddenly, Rhys turned you, bending you at your waist and forcing your chest back down to the mattress. He was on you in an instant, the feeling of his rippled abdomen pressing against your back as his shaft poked at your entrance. Fingers gently stroked your wings, as Rhys whispered in your ear. “Do you want me to fuck you, princess?”
“Please,” was all you could say, your eyes clenched in anticipation as your tunnel begged to be filled.
“What wonderful manners you have,” he teased before placing a gentle bite where your wings sprouted from your back. You yelped in pleasure and pain, and Rhys pressed the tip of his cock into you at the same time. You could feel how easily he slid in, your juices and arousal beckoning him deeper.
“Gods, Y/N. You feel like heaven,” Rhys panted, filling you slowly as you stretched around him. You whimpered back, clutching at the sheets again as he kept a steady hand on your lower back. It wasn't long until he filled you completely, and you hummed at the sensation of him drawing back before pressing in with a long stroke.
“That’s it, good girl,” Rhys hummed, his voice thick and low as he continued to fuck you, slow and sensually.
You knew it wouldn't take long for you to find your finish, but you couldn't anticipate the extent of your pleasure as Rhys moved his hands against your spread wings, tracing and massaging in all the right spots. The added sensation made your eyes widen, and a series of patterned moans escaped you as he began to fuck you harder. The sound of your slapping bodies and unison moans filled the room, Rhys then clutching the base of your wings, using them to pull you into him again and again.
“That’s it, take me Y/N. That’s a good girl.” Rhys’s voice was wild now, more feral as you both chased your release.
And as Rhys circled his thumbs where his hands grasped your wings, it was the final jolt of pleasure that had you cumming on your High Lords cock. You gasped, your mouth agape as a long whine escaped you, your tunnel clenching around his shaft as ripples of pleasure racked through your body. Rhys was not far behind, and he finished inside you with a deep guttural roar.
Your wings twitched as you came down from your high, Rhys now resting against your back as he kissed your neck. You felt him soften before he withdrew, moving to gently lay on the bed, pulling you to him as he kissed your forehead.
“What do you make of wing play, Y/N?” he winked down at you, his grin one of pure male satisfaction.
You bit your lip, smiling in excitement at the new world of pleasure Rhys had introduced you to. “I look forward to doing that some more,” you answered, batting your lashes up at him.
Rhys smiled, his eyebrows raising before he leaned in to kiss your nose. ‘Give me a moment darling, and I’d be happy to teach you all over again.”
You and Rhys made love three more times that night, before finally settling into a tangle of sheets and sweaty sleep. And while you awoke alone in your bed the next morning, your heart was content at the note and fresh vase of lavender at your side table.
Darling Y/N, I have business to attend to this morning. Please enjoy the lavender from the field you so gracefully crashed into yesterday. Practice will resume after lunch – flying or fucking, the choice is yours.
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AN: This is my first time writing for Rhys, let alone spicy Rhys! I hope I’ve done him justice. As always, I love hearing your feedback, and comment to join my tag list ❤️
Tag list:@kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies
1K notes · View notes
k-daydreams · 10 months
Text
The pursuit of Feeling Alive: I. Intro
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Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader, PLATONIC!IC x reader
Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.
Warnings: trauma, swearing, pining, angst?
Word Count: 4.8k
Author note: this is my first acotar fic! It was originally going to be a singular self indulgent azriel fic, but I can’t ever get to the point and I got too many ideas. Definitely not very canon with the timeline of series I think lol, just going to throw that out there. I’ve already rough drafted another chapter and thought I’d share the work on here. Feel free to share your thoughts! If you’d like to be added to a tag list let me know!
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚
Internally, you teetered on the edge of a nervous breakdown, ready to tear yourself apart from within. Externally, you wore a mask of cold calculation, hoping no one could detect your distress and near senility. Earlier in the day, your cousin Mor had mentioned that her high lord and your other dear cousin, Rhysand, had matters to discuss with your high lord, Helion. The reason for their meeting was of no concern to Mor to bother filling you in.
Your heart thumped against your chest, unsure of what to expect. It had been over fifty years since the Day Court and Night Court had engaged in official business since the end of Amarantha's reign of terror. You had seen Rhysand during the time under the mountain, where you spent nearly half a century with him until Feyre saved Prythian. Still holding visits with him after to report to him along with Mor, thanks to her frequent visits to Helion. However, the rest of the court, especially those you hadn't met since after Amarantha and Hybern, remained a mystery, with only Mor's updates for context.
Following your time under the mountain, you chose to reside in the Day Court under Helion's rule as an emissary between the two Solar Courts. It served as a means to shield yourself from feeling too deeply, allowing you to focus on healing from the traumatic events you endured during those fifty years. There were other matters you had yet to confront and come to terms with, voluntarily choosing to ignore them. By hiding away and conducting your business mainly with Mor and Rhys, you could maintain a sense of avoidance of your once home.
Now, in the dining hall of the palace where Helion and his inner court resided—including yourself—you found yourself on edge. Regardless of the pressing matters at hand, your high lord insisted on hosting a dinner for his court and other high fae to publicly display the alliance between the Night Court and the Day Court. Standing next to Helion's chair in the center of the room, you observed the lively chatter among the gathered individuals.
Your hands were clasped tightly in front of you, nervously inspecting your gown for nonexistent dirt, attempting to conceal your jitters. The gown itself could remind anyone of the place you resided and wanted to consider your new home. It was an off-the-shoulder nude gown with gossamer sleeves cascading around your arms. The bodice, nearly transparent, accentuated your bust, adorned with soft gold crystals intricately arranged over your body. The long skirts consisted of layers of gossamer, featuring two long slits up the front that revealed your legs. You appeared ethereal and angelic.
"You seem on edge," Helion called out to you, pulling you out of your internal thoughts. Your eyes scanned the room, observing every movement, before turning your attention to the main entrance. He gently traced his finger beneath the dainty black diamond bracelet adorning your wrist, bringing your attention back. This bracelet, along with matching pieces around your neck and ears, showed your affiliation with the visiting court. You wore them out of respect for your older cousins, never daring to show your true affection openly—a facade to conceal your true self. You knew they would appreciate it if they noticed.
"The Night Court was your home, was it not?" He questioned, his tone casual, as he glanced over his shoulder at the other members of the inner court to make sure they weren’t listening. Adjusting his shirt cuffs to his well-matched button-down very similar color to yours, he exuded regality from head to toe.
You mumbled stoically, "Was." Clearing your throat tentatively, your eyes returned to the main doors. "This is my home now, serving under your rule. I can't afford to be anything but cautious when the Night Court wishes to discuss an unknown matter."
You didn’t miss the way his eyes rolled. "Always playing this game, aren't you?" Helion scolded playfully. “There's no need to keep up the act. Rhys's actions beneath the mountain spoke volumes for our court."
You thought to yourself, 'But my actions don't, and I'd rather keep it that way.' Aloud, you replied smoothly, "One can't appear too soft when the Night Court steps through that door." The lie slipped easily from your lips.
"Are we referring to the whole court now or the spymaster we both have eyes for?" Helion hummed, reclining slightly in his chair as he took a sip of fae wine from his chalice-like glass. Damn him.
"I have no eyes for any man, particularly not a brute Illyrian man. And especially not one I've been watching wrestle with my cousin since we were young children," you retorted, feeling a surge of unease and clenching your jaw at the assumption.
"That's a match I would give up all my powers to witness," the handsome, dark-skinned lord purred, his words aimed at you.
You wanted to snap at him, your patience wearing thin at the mere mention of the tall Illyrian warrior. However, you managed to keep your composure in check. "It's hardly a match; Rhys won every time."
As if on cue, you felt the energy of several individuals entering the palace. Rhysand always loved a dramatic entrance. "Excellent, our guests have arrived," you murmured, straightening your shoulders as best as you could.
Helion followed suit, sitting more upright in his chair at the center of the hall. The rest of the inner court took their positions standing.
The sentries opened the doors for the guests. Morrigan was the first to enter, her golden hair elegantly curled, and she delightedly took you in before blinking a few times, returning to her sultry expression. Her red gown fitted her perfectly: a strapless piece that flowed around her as she walked. Following her was a sight you hadn't expected since hearing the gossip from Mor—Lucien Vanserra, adorned in deep autumnal colors that complemented his complexion and long, tidy red hair. He was an old confidant of yours when you had stayed in the spring court. You couldn't help but find it amusing, but you maintained a composed demeanor, concealing your bemusement at how out of place in the night court he seemed.
After Lucien came two beautiful high fae women. The younger one on the left wore a flowing champagne pink gown that accentuated her slim waist and showcased her porcelain fair skin. Her light brown hair was adorned with crystals and flowers, and she wore dainty opal teardrop earrings that complimented her brown eyes. On the right stood another woman in a form-fitting navy dress that subtly shimmered with every movement. The gown highlighted her curves and bust, while a sapphire-like sciphon necklace adorned her neck. Her darker brown hair was elegantly pinned up with a silver circlet. These must have been the High Lady's sisters, Elain and Nesta, whom you had heard so much about. Nesta's eyes had a hint of danger and coldness, while Elain's were filled with awe as they observed the dining hall.
Cassian followed the two women, and you discreetly coughed to suppress a snort. He appeared cleaned up, wearing a navy tunic and dark linen pants, with his hair slicked back and neatly tied. This was a different version of him from the rugged general you were accustomed to, not dressed in his usual fighting leathers to a formal affair. His siphons were cleverly disguised as jewelry pieces, and he had politely tucked back his larger wings. He seemed out of place as much as Lucien, but his mischievous eyes locked with yours, indicating he might have had similar thoughts about you.
Before you could even see her, you sensed Amren's piercing gaze from behind Cassian's towering figure. Her glowing silver eyes held an inscrutable expression, and her lips formed a slight grimace. She wore her usual grey color in a slip gown that elegantly draped down in the front. Though not dressed as extravagantly as the others, her presence demanded attention. A touch of red lipstick and a slightly tousled hairstyle were enough to enhance her beauty. You could see the rest of Helion’s inner court murmur from your peripheral, the usual whispers about the millennia’s old creature stalking towards them.
Rhysand made his entrance with the high lady from beside him, exuding confidence and power. He wore his customary dark attire that accentuated his commanding presence. His violet eyes locked with yours for a fleeting moment before he turned his attention to Helion. Feyre held her head high, a diadem hanging on the crown of her head, and her hair half up half down in loose waves. Her dress off the shoulder shone in sapphire crystals making it look like stars had been entwined on the gown. She was gorgeous as a mortal even when she was malnourished when you saw her under the mountain, but as a high fae she was even more devastating.
Last of the group, you spotted Azriel, his shadows swirling subtly around him, and your breath caught in your throat. His shadows slinked up his dark tunic clad shoulder seeming to whisper in his ear. He looked over at you making eye contact discreetly. His features were hard but something unreadable in his eyes as he observed you. You didn’t miss the slight bob of his throat as he looked quickly away to a distant corner in the room acting stoic. His hair was pushed back showing his sharp jawline, and you could see his tattoos peeking out his shirt. His silent and brooding presence always managed to unnerve you, unable to get a good read on what could’ve been going through his head. You refused to let your guard down, not wanting to think about the shadowsinger that stood mere feet away. This had been the first time you have seen each other in person since you were able to leave under the mountain.
The Night Court all stood in front of Helion, and he bowed his head in greeting. You did the same along with the rest of the inner court. The introductions began, and the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. Helion gracefully welcomed his guests, exchanging pleasantries and acknowledging the significance of the meeting. You observed the interactions, keeping a blank face despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. It felt like you were looking into your old life from the outside watching the inner circle, and your heart ached for a second.
Eventually, it was time for you to step forward and join the introductions. As you approached Rhysand, his gaze never wavered from yours. His lips curved into a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the past. You stood before him, your heart pounding, but your expression remained composed.
"High Lord Rhysand," you greeted him, keeping your tone neutral and titles formal. "It has been a while."
His voice was smooth as he responded, “Y/n, always a pleasure. Allow me to introduce my wife and High Lady, Feyre.”
You bowed respectfully to the High Lady. “I am in awe, Feyre Cursebreaker. What an honor to have you grace the Day Court with your presence.”
A smile graced her lips in response. “Thank you for the warm welcome. I have heard so much about you, Y/n.” She took your hands in hers, and you were taken aback by the warm informal gesture. Your gaze fell upon the intricate tattoo adorning her hand and forearm, and in that moment, your heart swelled with joy for your cousin, and you dared to steal a glance at Rhys. His eyes were already fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle hints of tenderness and anticipation shining within them. You were so happy for him.
The formalities continued, and you exchanged polite words with Lucien, Elain, and Nesta. You longed for a chance to sit down and talk with them, to hear about their experiences since being freed from the cauldron. Your gaze wandered momentarily to Lucien, who stood near Morrigan, his amber eyes briefly glancing in your direction. A flicker of recognition passed between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of shared history. You had both suffered under the rule of the Spring Court, and it was a trauma you preferred to keep buried for now. But you couldn’t deny that you treasured the moments the young emissary had kept you sane within the trauma.
You stood next to Helion along with another Day Court emissary as Rhys, Amren, and Helion discussed some political topics. Deep down, you yearned for a moment alone with the inner circle, away from the prying eyes and expectations. But for now, you had to focus on the diplomatic matters at hand and navigate the complexities of the gathering. As the conversations flowed around you, you remained attentive, gathering information and assessing the dynamics between the courts.
Throughout the evening, conversations flowed, alliances were strengthened, and unspoken words hung heavy in the air. You played your part, engaging in polite conversation and maintaining the facade of an emissary, all the while battling the internal storm raging within you. It was beginning to wear on you though. Watching from afar at how Mor mingled with Nesta and Cassian. The Illyrian man had his arm around the oldest Archeon sister as they nodded and chuckled at Mor, and you wanted to smile. You had never expected Cassian finding a mate before you, but here you were.
A lot has changed since you had left indeed, and the longing you felt came back.
“You’re not my prisoner, you know. Feel free to mingle,” Helion’s voice chimed from behind, breaking through your thoughts.
“Isn’t that a bit informal?” you responded, sipping your glass of wine.
He arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “To talk at a party?” He snatched your wine from your hand.
You turned to face him, reaching for your half-filled glass that he held teasingly away from you. “Ah, don’t you think it’s a bit informal for an emissary to get drunk?” He added a playful spark in his eyes.
“To drink at a party?” You volleyed back, grinning mischievously as you continued your playful struggle for the glass.
“Why don’t you practice the talking part with Rhysand?” Helion suggested, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It seems like he’s eager to have a word with his dear cousin.” He gestured subtly behind you, and amidst the revelry and banter, Rhysand and Feyre made their way toward you both. However, before you could react, your gaze caught Azriel’s intense hazel eyes from their table behind the approaching couple, where he sat next to Elain. His massive wings appeared tense and uncomfortably confined by the chair. Elain chatted with him, but it seemed his attention was elsewhere, fixated on you. His shadows still whispered in his ear as one crept across the table.You resisted the urge to shudder, maintaining your composure, and quickly turned your attention back to Helion, whose grin remained firmly in place.
“Helion, may we borrow Y/n for a moment?” Rhysand inquired, one eyebrow raised, his gaze flickering between you and Helion.
Helion practically pushed you into Feyre’s arms. “Go ahead, I was just informing her that she’s free from her duties until later!” he announced with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The tips of your ears burned with embarrassment as you realized his intent to encourage your mingling.
“Thank you, My Lord,” you replied, bowing your head with a touch of sarcasm. Rhysand extended his arm, and you looped yours through it, allowing him to guide you towards their table. A nervous gulp betrayed your anticipation.
Feyre looked at you with concern. “Are you alright?” she asked, her tone gentle and caring.
“May we speak on the balcony?” you requested, your voice filled with meekness.
“Of course, it’s getting a bit warm in here,” Rhysand agreed, leading the three of you towards the balcony bathed in soft faelight.
You all leaned casually against the balcony railing, observing the lively feast taking place inside.
"How's the Day Court treating you?" he asked in a relaxed tone, as if to put you at ease. Away from prying eyes, you felt your shoulders relax. It felt good to be with your cousin where you both didn’t have to wear a mask.
"Well," you replied, "the Day Court doesn't quite compare to the beauty of the Night Court, but the days are undeniably bright." You struggled to find a suitable comparison for the Day Court's allure to the Night Court.
Rhys and Feyre almost snorted out their wine, their amusement evident. "I wonder why," Rhys sarcastically murmured.
Choosing to ignore your cousin's comment, you continued, "I've been making progress translating some texts for the court, and delving into a lot of reading.”
It seemed as though the High Lord and Lady expected to hear more and urged you to continue, but they realized you had nothing more to share.
Rhys cleared his throat. "Wow, that sounds like quite a lot," he remarked. You could tell he wanted to throw a snide remark, but a warning look from his mate kept him at bay. Where was Feyre centuries ago when you always found to be the butt of your cousin's jokes?
You shrugged. "Keeps me distracted." From your vantage point, you had a perfect view of the inner circle's table. Mor, Amren, Azriel, Lucien, Nesta, and Cassian were all seated there, drinking and picking at their food. Helion even made sure Amren had a chalice of beast's blood. You missed being a part of that group, laughing and sharing moments with them. The only person in the Day Court you truly felt comfortable with was Helion, and even that remained behind closed doors.
"Come home," the words made your shoulders tense. It wasn't your cousin who had spoken, but Feyre. You looked at her, finding understanding in her eyes, as if she knew what you were going through.
Your gaze wandered back to the inner circle. Your eyes fell on Azriel, who was listening with a ghost of a smile on his lips, as Cassian animatedly spoke, his wings flaring about and nearly knocking over Lucien's wine glass. The group tried to hide their laughter while Amren scolded them. Azriel's shadows discreetly moved the glass out of Cassian's wingspan, hiding his amusement.
"They miss you," Rhys genuinely expressed. "I miss you, and even the House misses you." Tears welled up, tightening your throat. "He won’t say it out loud, but he misses you too."
You didn't need to be told who he was. You knew.
"I didn't even say goodbye," you spoke with a heavy heart, guilt washing over you.
"That was over fifty years ago, Y/n," Rhys reminded you gently.
He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We have texts for you to translate if it’s a means to keep you busy, we could even have you train with Madja. Want an apartment on the opposite side of town from the House of Wind? Consider it done. Desire a cottage in the middle of nowhere? It's yours. Just please, stop running away," Rhys pleaded.
You felt tears welling up, but you willed them away. "I... I just can't leave," you stammered. You could feel your heart torn.
"You can," Feyre said sympathetically, holding your hands. "Helion asked us to come and talk to you."
"We won't force you, but he mentioned that you've changed in the last few years," Rhys added. Feyre's grip on your hands tightened.
"Please talk to them maybe and think about it?" she requested. You knew she meant the inner circle.
Biting your lip, you contemplated. "I'll find you in a bit. I need some time alone."
With a nod, Rhysand and Feyre understood your need for solitude. They exchanged a brief glance before making their way back inside, leaving you alone on the balcony.
Leaning against the railing, you let the cool evening breeze brush against your skin, smell of wildflower and honey in the air, the quietness of the moment allowing your thoughts to swirl. Images of your past, the friendships you had forged and the bonds you had left behind, filled your mind. The longing in your heart grew stronger with each passing second your family stood in the same room as you. A longing you pushed deep down when you were still under the mountain, uncertain of seeing your loved ones again.
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to not let tears slip. It was true that you had changed over the years, that the weight of your experiences had shaped you into someone different. But running away had only prolonged the pain, and you knew it was time to confront it. If your cousins had endured the pain, you were sure you could too.
Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the railing, determination igniting within you. You couldn't stay on the sidelines any longer. The inner circle had always been your family, even if circumstances had driven you apart. And now, as you stood on the cusp of a decision, you realized that it was time to bridge that gap.
Stepping back inside, you navigated through the crowd, searching for the familiar faces you had missed dearly. You found them at their table, still engaged in their playful banter, laughter filling the air. Taking a deep breath, you approached, your footsteps faltering only slightly.
As you reached the table, a hush fell over the group, their gazes turning towards you. Azriel's eyes locked with yours, and the shadows around him seemed to ripple, as though mirroring the tumultuous emotions within you.
"Can I join you?" you asked softly, your voice carrying a blend of trepidation and hope.
The response was immediate and overwhelming. Cassian's boisterous laughter echoed as he clapped you on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of you. Nesta's sharp gaze softened for a brief moment, Elain offered a warm but wary smile, and Lucien's amber eyes held surprise. Morrigan's voice was a welcoming melody as she pulled out a chair for you, and Amren, in her own enigmatic way, nodded approvingly.
Taking your seat among them, you couldn't help but feel a sense of homecoming. And as you settled into the comfort of their presence, you could feel your frozen heart just dethaw slightly.
“Y/n, I knew you were always shy, but around us?” Mor teased you endearingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You look so beautiful tonight!” She gushed, her words filled with genuine admiration as she played with a strand of your hair. “The dress would be better in a darker color though.” She whispered the last part so only you and the inner circle could hear, her voice laced with a conspiratorial tone.
“The gown color does wash you out,” Amren chimed in, her bored expression not fully hiding a hint of amusement.
A laugh bubbled out of your chest, surprising even yourself. "Not the first thing I thought I would hear from you in years," you quipped, a playful smile tugging at your lips. Amren raise her glass to you before taking a sip of the thick liquid in the cup.
“Better than that raggedy spring court piece you came back in, though," Rhysand interjected, his voice filled with playful banter as he and Feyre settled into the extra seats at the table. The original inner circle chuckled at the memory.
Despite that being one of the worst days of your life, you couldn't help but smile too. The shared laughter brought a warmth to the air, softening the edges of past wounds.
“You should’ve seen the dress I came to the Night Court in," Feyre chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Another monstrosity by Ianthe," Lucien muttered into his glass before taking a sip, his voice tinged with a touch of disdain. Your eyes widened at the snide comment, but the group erupted into laughter, momentarily forgetting the weight of your burdens.
As the night wore on, Helion raised his glass, signaling a toast to the alliance between the two courts. The hall fell silent, and you raised your glass as well, a faint smile playing at the corner of your lips. The toast created a joyous noise as everyone in attendance drank, and the music started playing. Mor instantly beamed and grabbed Feyre’s hand, followed by Elain, leading them to the dance floor. Rhysand and Lucien joined them, their steps filled with a carefree grace. Cassian took Nesta’s hand, and they followed suit. Amren excused herself to converse with the emissary from the Day Court with a request of Azriel to accompany her.
You turned to Mor, insisting you would join them shortly, as you wished to find Helion. She nodded understandingly, giving you a knowing smile as she disappeared into the swirling crowd. You made your way toward Helion, feeling the warmth of the night and the drinks starting to loosen your tongue and heart.
“Do you wish to get rid of me so easily?” you feigned offense, walking up to his side. The merriment of the evening had given you a newfound boldness. Your body hadn’t felt this light in ages. Your gaze met his, and a flicker of understanding passed between you.
Helion shook his head, a gentle smile gracing his features. “No, darling, never. I just think your heart belongs somewhere else.” His words were filled with gentle encouragement. He patted the arm of his chair, offering you a seat upon the rest. With an eye roll and a smile, you accepted, settling into the plush chair arm.
"Your presence is lovely, your duty is commendable, but I couldn't sit here watching you turn to stone any longer," Helion continued, his voice filled with genuine concern. His finger absentmindedly found the wrist under your bracelet, his touch a feather-light brush against your skin. A wave of warmth washed over you, and the faint scent of wildflowers drifted through the air.
"Besides, maybe it's time you face a certain Illyrian man," he whispered discreetly, his words carrying a hint of suggestion.
You looked at him, confusion swirling within you. His eyes subtly glanced over to the corner, and you followed his gaze. Azriel stood behind Amren, his intense gaze fixed on Helion and you. His jaw was clenched, and his wings were taut with tension, as if holding back an impending storm. The sight of him sent a jolt of both excitement and apprehension through your veins.
"I can't ignore those ravenous stares, knowing he wants to rip me to shreds, and not in the way I like," he added, teasingly toying with your bracelet as if oblivious to Azriel's presence. The Day Court High Lord knew exactly what he was doing it seemed. Azriel couldn’t have been glaring at Helion; it had to be you. Memories of your past argument with Azriel flashed through your mind, the intensity of the argument still fresh. You had both nearly destroyed each other. You hadn’t ever heard you two speak so many volatile and vulgar things— especially at each other.
"I could never forgive him for what he said," you sighed. "What's even worse is that I can't forgive myself for what I did, not only to him, but to my family. I feel responsible for my ex-husband's actions towards them." You admitted, realizing that you had never spoken those words aloud before.
Beside you, the lord sucked his teeth in retort. "You can't blame yourself for what your father put you through by selling you to that pretty little beast." He sat up straighter and looked at you earnestly. "Nobody blames you, Y/n." You found yourself unabashedly staring back at Azriel as he was still looking at the interaction between you and the high lord.
“We all carry burdens from our past, but we mustn't let them define our future," he said gently. "You were caught in a web spun by others, but you have the strength to break free. It's time to forgive yourself and embrace the healing you deserve."
You nodded nimbly, biting your lip in contemplation. You would always hold gratitude for Helion. His kindness you’ve experienced for the last several years was more than what you deserved and needed, but he still provided it. If you returned to the night court you wouldn’t have known where you stood in the court. What your rank would be, what your friends thought of you, and where to even pick back up in your life. You just knew you haven’t felt this alive in awhile, and you craved the feeling.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚
[x] next chapter
Let me know your thoughts, and feel free to like and reblog! I might change the title but that’s tbd.
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kataraavatara · 1 month
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the funny thing about the “rhysand only did it to PROTECT Feyre argument” is that he kind of fucking sucks at protecting feyre. “he was protecting her UTM” she died. “he wanted to find a solution before he told her about her pregnancy” well he didn’t. it would be one thing if rhysand’s “protection” actually worked out in the end but he’s literally just a boyfailure.
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stargirlfeyre · 8 months
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Shit that Rhys gets hate for that never happened in the books or that are completely justified.
“Plotting to become High King.” Rhys has never stated that he wants to be High King and he’s actually said multiple times that he has no plans of becoming one. The idea was brought up by Amren and was shut down quickly by him. I don’t get why y’all are hating on him for it when he literally agrees with you?
“Trying to kill Nesta.” Sadly Rhys has never actually tried to kill Nesta. He threatened to (just like she threatened to kill her baby sister) but he has never done it and he even says that he would never hurt anyone Feyre loves. Quick question though. Nesta’s threat towards Feyre is excused with “she was just angry because her boundaries were being pushed” but why is that logic also not applied to Rhys? He was angry because his wife had a miscarriage thrown in her face. Yet these instances aren’t treated the same?
“Threatening to kill Nesta just because she told Feyre the truth.” The reason he threatened her was not simply because she told Feyre. It was because of how she told Feyre. She threw a dead child in her sister’s face (his child along with Feyre’s) and not only that but she blatantly lied to her sister and said everyone was just going to let her die in ignorance while knowing that that wasn’t true. If someone you cared about was told their child was going to die in the same manner that Nesta told Feyre would you be upset?
“Bullying Tamlin.” His bitch ass deserved it. What do you want me to say?
“Bullying Lucien.” He also deserves it. Seriously though what reason would Rhys have to like Lucien? He’s besties with the man who got his mother and sister killed, he’s the man who tried to force his mate back to her abuser, he’s the man who looked at Feyre with disgust for simply being a part of the IC. What reason do these two people have to like one another? Lucien disliking Rhys is fine but Rhys disliking him is bullying? Need I remind y’all that these are both two grown ass men?
“Forcing traumatized Priestess to work for him.” I didn’t even think people were dumb enough to hate on him for this but here we are. The library is not a prison for the priests who live there. It’s a sanctuary where they are taken to heal and they can leave whenever they are ready to. There are even counselors/therapists there to help them.
“Purposely keeping Nesta ignorant about her powers so he can control her.” If I remember correctly it was actually her who chose to refuse to learn about her abilities and it was her who threw a tantrum when they suggested that she starts learning again. The IC never forced Nesta to be powerless or under their control. She willingly refused to learn about her powers.
“Hating Nesta and abusing her because she didn’t bow to him.” I don’t even know how many times it’s said and shown that Rhys doesn’t enforce rank unless he absolutely has to. His own friends talk shit to him but you actually think he disliked Nesta because she did it? Maybe just maybe his dislike for her came from him watching her repeatedly hurt his wife? You can say he was wrong for defending Nesta against Feyre all you want but painting him out to be the bad guy for simply disliking a woman who hurt his wife is insanity.
Bonus: “Brainwashing Nesta to be happy with how everyone treated her.” This argument is just so unserious I don’t even know how to counter it😭.
“Degrading Azriel and forbidding him to see Elain and in the process taking away their choices.” This is just another instance where he was completely justified in his decision. You have to put yourself in his shoes for a second. One, he’s already stressed out because he thinks that his wife, child, and he himself are going to die and the last thing he needs is to be worried about losing an important ally over Elain and Azriel. Two, from his perspective it looks like Azriel just wanted to fuck Elain and he didn’t actually have feelings for her. “Well how could he not know that Azriel likes Elain” because as I stated before throughout Acosf his main priority was Feyre being pregnant and finding a way for her to survive it. Of course he’s not going to notice two people dancing around one another if he’s worried about his wife dying? A lot of you just forget that Rhys is also a High Lord who will put his people above everything (except for Feyre).
Ending it here even though I could go on and on about how delusional a lot of his antis are. This post would just be way too long.
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kallycreates · 11 months
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Hi Tumblr! Kinda new here, but I thought I’d share some of the art I’ve been working on these past few months! And some WIPs, and some opinions, and some random stuff! Here’s Nesta Archeron from the ACOTAR series of books by Sarah J Maas!
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bae-gelz · 1 month
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Manon & Dorian & Abraxos.
I’m baaaack to posting on tumblr, I guess I’ve regressed far enough that I’m back to tumblr?? Anyway. Here ya go, I’ve been drawing lots of Sarah J Maas characters because I’m listening to acotar on audiobook and reading a fan fiction thats Rhysand’s pov of ACOMAF.
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packetofsuga · 1 year
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“We were all drowning and none of us knew how to save each other. But there was an understanding that we were all drowning together.”
i saw this pic on pinterest and it immediately made me think of Feyre, Nesta, and Elain and that quote from Bojack Horseman so i drew them
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arinbelle · 2 years
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Mor is literally a mirror to Nesta in terms of traumatic events they've gone through but SJM made one outwardly nice but internally mean and one outwardly mean but internally nice and y'all took it personally.
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sareeen · 23 days
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The charm of snow
Based on this request. :)
Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader
Summary: Azriel surprises his wife at home and fulfils a childhood dream of her.
Warnings: fluff, mention of abuse, sweet, playful husband Azriel
Masterlist
A/N: Hope you like it! This is part 2 of Unknown Touches for a Lady, but it can be a standalone. (Here –> Part 1)
English is not my first language, sorry for any mistake! :)
—————————••••••••••••—————————
Azriel was attentive.
Y/N only really realised this when the clock struck quarter past three and the man suddenly stepped through the door with a slight, sweet smile on his face.
Y/N was lying on the sofa, almost swallowed up by one of the soft blankets, looking at her husband with a sleepy, surprised expression.
She quickly straightened and ran a hand through her hair, but winced as she caught her finger in one of the tangled strands.
She hadn't expected him, Azriel was busy with the Court's affairs, so Y/N had mostly only met him in the late hours, when thousands of stars shone in the sky. They had been married for three weeks and were still getting used to each other's closeness.
They hadn't slept together since their wedding night.
There had been a few coy kisses, a gentle peck on the cheek and a brief double-sided hug. Every night Y/N waited for Azriel to knock on the door of her bedroom, but all she heard were footsteps pausing for a second and then moving quickly on outside her door.
It was as if each time he restrained himself from knocking.
But now he stood there, his wings and muscular shoulders almost filling the doorframe. There seemed to be a restrained glint in his eyes as he spoke.
“It's snowing.”
Y/N's eyes widened and a surprised sound escaped her, then she rushed to the huge window overlooking the street and pulled the curtains.
Huge flakes of snow fell from the sky, the light wind carried them in a thousand directions, turning the landscape white.
Happy, screaming children rushed out of one of the buildings holding something in their hands – some with scarves, others with carrots.
“Shall we go outside?” asked Azriel quietly behind her. “We could go for a walk.”
Y/N's eyes watered and she sniffled, barely audible.
Ever since she was a little girl, she'd longed to see a snowfall - to feel the sensation of snow on her skin.
Two weeks ago, after a dinner, the subject came up between her and Azriel about what she would like to see of the outside world and the first thing she said was snowfall.
Her husband remembered and came straight home to get her. He's going to go with her and make her dream come true.
Warmth flooded her chest, her heart just fluttering with gratitude and happiness as she turned and nodded.
“Yes” her throat tightened with emotion as she said the words. “I really want to go outside.”
She almost flew to the rack, grabbed her coat and awkwardly wrapped her thick, fluffy scarf around her neck. She tucked her feet into the boots, but she was so scrambled that she would have fallen if Azriel hadn't caught her right arm and held her.
“Here we go, I'm ready!” she looked up at the spymaster, who grinned as Y/N blushed.
She was being too silly, she realized.
“Not yet” he shook his head serenely.
Y/N watched with furrowed brows as Azriel pulled a knitted cap from behind his back and pushed it on her head. It was so warm that within moments Y/N could feel herself beginning to sweat underneath and her hair sticking to her forehead.
“Now, you are ready”
Azriel opened the door for her and put his hand on her back to lead her out into the street.
An icy, shivering wind hit their faces and Y/N took a deep breath, letting the feeling wash over her. Her cheeks were almost tingling from the cold, but the wide grin still sat on her face.
Another first time.
She tilted her head up and closed her eyes. The tiny snowflakes found their way and caressed her cheek, and within moments melted away to leave her skin wet.
She reached out and looked at her palms, gazing at the six-pointed, star like snowflakes. They were beautiful, like tiny transparent crystals.
The touch of them left an icy, tingling sensation in her fingers, but it was all the more wonderful.
“Do you like it?” Azriel whispered in her ear as he placed a snow ball in her hand.
Y/N just stared at the ball.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Y/N asked, puzzled, and Azriel grunted.
“Throw it away” he suggested in a mischievous tone. “Maybe at him.”
Y/N looked in the direction where the shadowsinger was pointing and was stunned.
“I'm not going to throw a child!” she blurted out immediately and elbowed Azriel in the side, who laughed and dodged the hit.
The snow crunched under Y/N's boots as she took a few steps forward and in a sudden burst of excitement spun around and aimed at Azriel. Targeting the combat-skin covered chest, she pulled her arm back and swung. The snowball flew towards Azriel at high speed and then it was on target.
It hit her husband squarely in the face.
The shadowsinger was knocked backwards by the blow, while Y/N clapped a hand over her mouth in fright and turned pale.
“Cauldron” she hurried over to him and quickly brushed the snow off his handsome face, which was slightly flushed.
“I am so, so sorry, Azriel. Please don't be angry with me! I swear I was aiming for your chest.”
She felt fear flooding every inch of her body and anxiety clenched her stomach. Azriel may have been nice, but no man would tolerate being humiliated like that by his wife in the middle of the street.
When the spymaster raised his hand, Y/N hunched her shoulder and tensed in preparation for the punch, then closed her eyes.
But the pain and the sharp snap of his palm failed to register, so she gingerly peeked out from under her lashes and looked at her husband.
Azriel watched her with a frown, pity shining in his eyes. But at the same time, something ancient and destructive rage lingered in him, and Y/N winced again.
“Did you think I was going to hit you?” inquired Azriel, his voice almost lost in the howling wind.
Y/N could only manage a small nod and tried to swallow the lump in her throat that made her feel like she was choking.
“I –“ Y/N cleared her throat and blew out a shaky breath. “I would understand.”
She hung her head, eyed the tiny embroidered designs on her black boots and waited for Azriel's reaction. But he just stood there motionless, which almost drove Y/N crazy.
“Can you please say something?” she blurted out nervously.
Azriel suddenly cupped her face in both hands and forced Y/N to look up at him. Her husband's face looked as if it had been carved from stone, his beautiful features now looking sharper in the wintry landscape.
“Y/N” his thumb ran over her skin in a soft, caressing motion. Gently, so gently that Y/N's breath caught in her lungs. “Look into my eyes.”
The golden-brown gaze almost burned Y/N's face and she found it hard not to turn her head.
“I'll never hit you” Azriel declared with firm determination and promise radiated from every inch of his body. “I swear it. I will cut off my hand before I lay a hand on you. Understand?”
“Yes” Y/N whispered.
“I don't want you to be afraid of me. You are my wife and so I want you to feel safe and comfortable with me.”
Azriel pulled his knife from the sheath hanging at his side and placed it in Y/N's hand, then shook her grip. The cool, murderous steel gave her chills.
“But if anyone hurts you, kill them with this,” he murmured quietly. “And those who have laid a hand on you in the past years, I will be the one to deal with.”
Y/N couldn't even speak as Azriel leaned in and kissed her.
The kiss tasted of anger, sorrow, and promise, and it pulled her off her feet and clung to Azriel's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, his hand holding her tightly by the waist, almost devouring her.
Azriel's lips were warm on hers, his tongue begging for entrance. Y/N opened her lips and their tongues intertwined, following each other's dance sweetly.
They broke away from each other, both gasping for breath and Y/N was almost certain she was going to faint. A hotness flooded her guts and Azriel took her hand and raised it to his lips.
“Let's go, darling.”
They walked hand in hand past the rows of shops and Y/N was still dazed from the kiss and the events that had just taken place.
“Where are we going?” she asked when they had been walking for a few minutes and she could gather her thoughts.
The city was beautiful, with wreaths and red bows decorating the streets everywhere. Snow was falling heavily from the sky, making the roofs of the houses look like they had been sprinkled with icing sugar.
Azriel didn't answer, but went into one of the shops and pulled her along behind him.
The little bell above their heads rang, the heat inside hit Y/N and she inhaled the scent of cinnamon. It was a tiny, cluttered room and she tried to make out what all the wooden stuff was, leaving almost no room for a mug.
The shadowsinger picked up one of them, a very large one with a string hanging from one half, and approached the vendor to pay.
Afterwards he turned to her with a smile of such delight that she was unable not to smile back.
“Come.”
He led her to a back door and outside they found themselves at the top of a hill.
Y/N looked down at the long, snow covered ground and looked expectantly at her husband, who had set the wooden thing down and was patting the top.
“Sit on it,” Azriel commanded kindly, and Y/N immediately sat down. She had no idea what this was going to turn into.
“So we're looking at the scenery?” she asked him, but she looked around cheerfully. “I like it.”
Azriel gave a hearty laugh and sat down behind her. Her back was against his muscular, warm chest, which made her feel relaxed and she was about to nestle into his embrace when Azriel began to squirm.
He pulled his wing up so it didn't touch the snowy ground and handed Y/N the rope that connected to the front of the structure.
“Hold on!”
With that, he swung his legs into momentum and kicked away, and they started down the drop.
The breakneck speed and the snow in her face made Y/N scream, but Azriel just laughed behind her and wrapped his huge body around her. The trees blurred in her vision and her ears whistled because of the wind, but somehow she began to enjoy the rush.
There was something liberating about hurtling to the bottom of the hill, leaving all her troubles behind for a moment and just enjoying it.
“Pull the rope!” shouted Azriel, his voice deep and wonderful in her ear.
Y/N leaned back slightly, straight into her husband and tightened the rope, causing them to slow down.
Eventually the contraption they were sitting on stopped as they got down to the field and just sat there quietly for a few moments while Azriel stood up.
I've been married to a child, Y/N thought to herself in amazement, but there was a bubbling joy inside her.
The shadows surrounding Azriel crept fiercely around his ears and his eyes brightened.
“I heard that” he smiled wryly. “That's not what I remember you thinking on our wedding night.”
Y/N playfully, but laughing, nudged Azriel's leg, who began to pull her up the hill.
“What do you call this thing?” Y/N asked, laying her feet on the two long wooden planks.
“Sledge” Azriel replied and repositioned the sledge just as before. “We're sledding, Y/N”
He pulled back a little and grabbed the back of the sled. The scarred hands, tanned face and golden brown eyes evoked feelings in Y/N that she couldn't even express.
Maybe she could.
She would have loved to throw herself on him and do all the things she had done on their wedding night.
“Be careful and pull the rope like before” Azriel suggested and Y/N panicked.
“What?”
However, Azriel started to run and gave a big push, releasing the sledge, and Y/N started to race back down into the deep.
She screamed as if Azriel had sent her to her death - though that wasn't far from the truth.
She yanked on the rope, but lost her balance and fell sideways in front of the field, off the sled and rolled for a few moments, then, face down in the snow, came to a stop.
She heard the flapping of wings and Azriel's desperate voice, but her shoulder was already shaken.
He rolled her towards him and laughter burst out of her. She kept tearing and clutching her stomach, then managed to speak.
“Oh, I was so scared!” she wiped her face. “But let's do it again!”
Azriel sighed in relief, but smiled sweetly and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Don't scare me like that anymore.”
They sledged until dark and Y/N's lips were almost frozen in a grin by the time they got home.
She had never been so happy in her life.
She wanted to cling to Azriel and never let go. Her heart began to beat faster when he escorted her to her room in their flat and pressed a long, honey sweet kiss to her lips.
“Azriel?” she toyed with the strands of sultry, slightly curling hair that frizzled at the top of his neck.
“Yes?” The spymaster murmured and ran his hand soothingly up and down Y/N's back.
“Thank you.”
The shadowsinger looked down at her and Y/N's legs trembled at the golden brown gaze.
“Me too” he replied, then stepped back and walked towards his own room.
Y/N sank her teeth into her bottom lip and hesitated.
“Azriel?”
“Yes?” he turned to her immediately.
It was as if the shadows had already whispered Y/N's question to him and he was just waiting for her to ask it.
Y/N looked over him, took in his muscular frame, his charming face, and felt a warmth flood over her.
“Would you like to sleep with me?”
“To sleep?” Azriel's lips twitched in amusement.
“We don't have to sleep.”
Y/N giggled as he moved towards her, gasping for air as he almost pushed her into the room with his imposing body.
The door closed behind them with a loud slam.
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lyssasdrafts · 3 months
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— ACOTAR AS MODERN DAY PLACES
velaris, night court — new york city, usa
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“the city of starlight.”
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aphroditelovesu · 9 months
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I want to talk about platonic yan big bro rhysan with sister reader I wonder if he took her flying around Velaris on those nights he use to sneak out. I wonder if he'd come into her room at night and read to her. I bet he held her hand and walked around the Rainbow with her, using their family credit to buy any treats and toys that caught her eye, knowing he'd likely get in trouble for it later but willing to endure his father's scolding at the sake of spoiling her.
Oh, we are going to talk about this... 😊🤭
Rhysand would definitely pamper his younger sister, with gifts and sweets, whatever she wants. He is the older brother who wants to be adored by his young sister since he adores her too.
Rhys would definitely take her flying with him to Velaris, maybe even their mother together. I can see that it was Rhys who taught his sister to fly and he couldn't be prouder of that. One of his best childhood memories is when he would take his sister flying with him.
If it was her wish, then yes, Rhys would love to read to her. Maybe even before she learned to read, Rhys would be reading her favorite stories or telling her ones he made up. He would put her to sleep and make sure she didn't have any nightmares during the night. You know, just looking out for his little sister.
The night is young and in the case of the Night Court that is true. As they grew older, Rhys would become more daring and would take her to various places, whether on Velaris or not. Of course, he would always be sure to protect her from anyone.
I think their mother would be happy to see the sibilings so close and Rhys so careful with his little sister, but their father would be worried. Concerned that this is dangerous, his son's yandere protective behavior towards his daughter is concerning, the way Rhysand deals with her and anyone who gets too close to her. So plans were made to separate them, which didn't go down too well with Rhys.
Imagine if it was Y/n who was murdered along with her mother? By the Cauldron, Rhys would destroy the entire Spring Court. Or maybe they had another sister, the one who was murdered along with their mother, let's assume Y/n was with her father when the news got out. After everything that happened and when he became High Lord, Rhys became paranoid for his little sister's safety. He had lost his mother and, depending on the au, his other sister and he wasn't going to lose Y/n, the sister he was always closest to.
The Inner Circle would definitely have feelings for Rhys' little sister (platonic or not) and become obsessed with her in the same way that Rhysand is.
~ Lady L
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cpeersmann · 1 year
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Chapter 55 & holy crap this so hot!
Art by: artworks_by_rokii
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myownplacex · 11 months
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Azriel x reader idea
angst and fluff?
imagine the reader has been tortured by Beron and everytime he was about to inflict pain on her he would put on a strong bell sound.
the reader having ptsd from it and being with the inner circle when suddenly a bell sound starts playing causing the reader to start shaking and azriel calms her down and soothes her.
can someone write a one shot on this?
Thank you!!
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