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#acowar
azsazz · 3 days
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Eris x Rhysands!Sister Reader
Summary: Anon Req: Literally in love with every fic you write. I know your requests are closed but in the future, could you write something where Eris and the reader see each other and there’s a lot of tension and they’re secretly mates but no one knows? I’m curious to see how you’d end it!
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 1,217
Notes: Love this tbh!!!
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You feel him before you see him. 
You can feel him all the time; even when he’s courts away there’s that connection humming blissfully in your chest. It’s comforting, to know that your mate is alive and well, that there’s a surety you’re aware of him and how he’s feeling. When he’s content in a warm bath with a glass of fae wine smoothing the creases between his brows. When he’s squaring his shoulders and surging with pride for the sparring with his brothers he has won again. When he sends a warmth so suggestive down the bond late at night when he’s sure there’s no one around. The very one you feel deep in your soul, that makes your core melt like his fire-filled hands are working your center. The one that leaves no questions whether he loves you or not.
Of course, there are times when you can’t feel him. When he’s blocked the bond from ever reaching you when his father brings his wrath down on him like he’s young and defenseless again. He always hides that from you. When the distance from you becomes too great and there is no choice for him but to block the bond because he knows that there is nothing that can be done in the current state of Pythian. No way for the both of you to be together, no way for him to seize you from the control of your older brother. If you were lesser than the High Lord’s younger sister, he’d sneak across the border lines on a whisper of autumn winds and find his way into your bed. 
It’s been ages since you’ve seen your mate, since you looked into those warm russet eyes, ran your fingers through his auburn hair, counted the freckles dotting the pale skin of his cheeks. 
Your breath catches in your throat as Eris is escorted into Rhysand’s office and your eyes meet. 
A sense of relief floods the bond as his eyes move over you in an intentional sweep that to everyone else in the room looks like he’s wondering why you’re here, but you know your mate is assessing you for injuries even though you’re nowhere near injured. Not even a scratch or a bruise on your perfect skin. 
No one notices the slight falter in his steps. All Eris wants to do is rush over to you and sweep you in his arms and press you into his chest, feel your heartbeat against his own. He wants to taste that smile you’re trying all too hard to hide from him, move his mouth across the color dusting your cheeks to feel his fire dancing underneath your skin. He wants to strip you bare, devour every inch of you. He wants to hear you scream his name, whisper that you love him, cry for him to take you away, admit that you never want to be apart—
But he’s not even allowed to sit next to you. 
Across the large table is as close as he allows himself to get. It’s not close enough that he can accidentally kick his foot against yours and he doesn’t like that you’ve been meticulously placed on the opposite side so he can’t even walk past you and brush his fingers against your hand or the back of your neck. 
His bond keens in his chest and he tries his best to stifle it, ripping his gaze away when he’s drawn to you like this. 
Eris is flanked by Cassian and Azriel, and even though he feels as if he’s on the best terms he’s ever been with the Night Court, this feels like a set up. A trap.
You allow a caress of reassurance down the bond to your mate. Your brother doesn’t know, no one in this room, in this court, in this continent knows of your connection to the heir of Autumn. Eris’ throat works as he swallows, and you turn your attention away from him as he sends a feeling of understanding back to you.
“Eris.” Rhysand gestures to the autumn born royal to sit. He’s lounging in his own chair at the circular table, an arrogance to him that irks you. It’s all a front, of course, one Rhysand has carefully crafted to perfection from centuries as High Lord. You don’t like that it’s directed at your mate, and you’re feeling more protective than ever, flickering a glance over to the males sitting on either side of your mate, as if they’re caging him in.
Not unusual for an untrusted male in your court. You’ve seen your brother pull this same maneuver more times than you can count, but there’s a charge to the air that feels different. Your spine lengthens and you flare a warning down the bond, praying your mate doesn’t react but readies himself. 
He follows your heed with unfaltering trust. Eris’ fingers flex where they’re resting on the arms of his chair, and you watch him unhinge his jaw only slightly, so that he doesn’t flex it. The scalding look on his face stays directed at your brother.
Your lips part and the muscles of your legs tense, ready to jump out of your chair in the next moment, when you catch Rhysand’s smirk, the one that spells trouble. His violet eyes are dark with the promise of violence and his shadows are quick to strike, tendrils of nightmares winding their way around Eris’ wrists, trapping him to the very chair he was offered.
Eris shifts his hands in a nonchalant motion, testing out the strength of the sentient darkness Rhysand uses to hold him hostage. They don’t give an inch and he wonders for a fleeting moment if he can burn them away. If your worry wasn’t heavy in his chest, the beat of your heart spiking double, he would try it. But with you here, he’s not willing to try anything that could potentially put you in danger.
Plus, a part of him wants to hear what Rhysand has to say. The other part of him wants to get you the fuck out of here.
The High Lord of the Night Court plants his hands on the table. High Lord, because there is no ounce of your brother in his eyes and actions right now.
The chair scraping against the floor as Rhysand stands is the only sound in the room. Cassian nor Azriel moves from their seats, but they pin your mate with the menacing kind of looks that mirror Rhysands, ready to follow his every demand, no questions asked. 
“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice is not its usual purr as he leans forward. A strand of hair falling across his forehead is the only sign of the crack in his facade, the utter rage filling the room with an unbearable tautness.
The words are sticky in your throat. You can’t move, can’t seem to take your eyes off of your brother as your heart splinters in your chest like it’s his own shadows tearing you to strips. You’re only able to manage a quiet, “Don’t,” that’s filled with too much desperation.
Rhysand ignores your words. He hisses at Eris, dark and low. “How long have you and my sister been keeping this little mating bond of yours a secret?”
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sareeen · 1 day
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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! :)
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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 he 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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elleybug · 2 days
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Oh snap ! What now ?!
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Really loved this scene after the battle 😭
“Be happy, Feyre.”
Chapter 77
Pg. 670 (Kindle edition)
🎨: chelzd_art
Commission by rizzo.reads88
Both on Instagram!!!
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the-darkestminds · 2 days
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Me reading this:
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Rhys: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*
Azriel: Stop that. How would you feel if I banged you on the table?
Rhys: I ---
Rhys: I don't know the correct answer to that question.
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littlestw01f · 1 day
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AZRIEL NSFW ALPHABETS
AZRIEL MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
Cw: Nsfw stuff, 18+ MDNI
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A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Depends on the nature of your relationship, he doesn't care much to care for you after if it's a random hook-up.
But if you're in a relationship, he'll always make sure you are comfortable after, hydrated and clean.
He'll ask what you need at the moment and won't hesitate to give it to you until he knows you better than you know yourself and provides you with everything you need by your tells.
B: Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
On him, it's his cock, straight up, cocky little bstard he is knowing he's hung, loves the look in your eyes when you see the size of him every time, and loves how you always struggle to take him.
On you, It's your legs, love how they feel when they're wrapped tight around him to keep him close, loves feeling them up and down, your thighs, and calves.
C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)
Loves to cum on your skin, mixing his scent with you so that people know you are his for as long as possible.
Loves when you cum on his face and tongue so he can taste you directly from the source
D: Dirty Secret
He's been to many orgies in his times in Illyria, taking more males there than females, has dominated both Rhysand and Cassian.
E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
He's got 500 years of experience in pleasuring his partners, he knows exactly what he's doing.
And he's very good at it.
F: Favorite Position(s)
Good old missionary, loves to look at your face contort in pleasure as he takes you.
Cowgirl, he loves watching you on top, bouncing on his cock, gripping onto the talons of his wings, head tipped back.
G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)
He's always been serious during sex, especially during a scene with you.
But if something goes wrong, he's started to make jokes about it after making sure you are alright and to make a lighthearted atmosphere.
H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes)
A mess of hair as a teen, didn't much care for how his hair looked.
Grew to properly groom his hair, and doesn't really care how you keep yours.
I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Is very loving and gentle during soft sex.
Not so much expression on his face during play.
J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Doesn't really have to use his own hand when he had yours.
Only masturbates while he is on a mission and away from you
K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Corruption - He had a thing for messing up the innocence of his mate, loves how much of an experimentalist you are, willing to try most things he suggests
Bondage- Leathers: loves Illyrian leathers on you, loves the feel of the leather.
Chains: likes to chain you to his bed and his dungeons, chains over your throat for breath play and he licks over the cold chains on your neck.
Ropes: Hogties you on his bed, loves watching you struggle knowing the ropes would leave burns, then after, kissing over your wrists and ankles.
Dacryphilia - Your tears turn him on, loves your tears streaming down your face whenever he takes you rough, at a punishing pace mostly when you try to flirt with other males to get a rise out of him.
Erotic asphyxiation - Loves forcing air out of you, with his hands, pulling on chains to mark your neck up.
Gagging - Gags you with his fingers and cock, loves the sound of you choking
Blood play/Knife play - Uses truthteller on you, cutting your skin just enough to make you bleed, watching the blood spill and healing back up, carving his name into your abdomen.
Shadow play - His shadows LOVE you, just as much as he does, they love to play with you, make you cum, tie you up, and keep his cum inside you.
Public sex - Fingering you anywhere, making you be quiet as he makes you cum on his hands, then walk away nonchalantly.
Sadism - Adores seeing you in the constant pain and pleasure that he causes.
L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)
Prefers his bed and his dungeons, but will take you anywhere if he is horny enough, and has taken you everywhere at least once.
M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
You, just you, everything about you gets him going, especially your eyes and the way you look at him
N: NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
He will be wary of anything you aren't downright enthusiastic about.
Will stop if you close your bond with him during play, he needs to have you open your bond with him at all times so he can feel what you're feeling.
O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Loves both, has an obsession with hearing your whines as he keeps making you cum on his tongue.
And with the sound of you gagging on his cock.
P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)
He prefers to be rough in most settings, it's the Illyrian rage he fucks out on you.
Is sensual when it's intimate, soft lovemaking for your anniversaries, important times for you both.
Or when you ask depending on what you want.
Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Prefers to take his time with you, and make you cum hard over and over again.
Will have a quickie if either of you is in a hurry and doesn't want to pass an opportunity to taste you.
R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
You two take so many risks in your sex life.
You love the thrill of getting caught.
He prefers to sometimes fuck you on the door of Nesta and Cassian's room so that you can cry out directly in their room, as payback to everything they kept him up with their noises.
S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)
Loves nothing more than being inside you.
Things don't end until you want them to, until all your holes are dripping with his cum, your legs shaking hard for hours after
T: Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Less "Toys" and more like torture devices, he uses those things to bind you up.
Paddles, whips, vibrators, dildos, gags, he had everything you might want.
U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)
He's very fair, a little too fair, things didn't end till you cum so many times it's painful.
V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Not really loud, but growls and groans in your ear
W: Wild Card
He loves sharing you with people, Nessian, Feysand, Eris, Lucien, and anyone you want.
X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)
MUSCULAR
Every inch of him has muscles, thick arms, legs, cut torso.
Biggest wingspan, obviously.
When you first gripped his cock while busy making out with him, you thought it was his arm.
Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Very High
Especially after accepting your mating bond
He needs to be inside you as much as possible
He is dtf anytime, unless you don't want to
Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He first wants to make sure you're comfortable.
After you are, he sometimes helps you sleep, whether singing to you or giving you a small massage.
He falls asleep to the sound of your comfortable breathing.
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{General taglist - @nox-ceur @sonics-atelier @lilah-asteria}
{Azriel taglist - @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch}
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yaralulu · 3 days
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Rhys trying to convince everyone at the high lords meeting he’s actually a good person and in the same breath saying it’d be so much easier to slice into their minds and have them do whatever he wants but he won’t because he’s just so nice was wilddd.Like wow rhys you’re such a good person for not scrambling in people’s heads and taking away their choices and autonomy clearly your evilness was just a act do you want a medal for the bare minimum 😍??
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Shadows of the Heart
Part 4
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions. 
WC: 1.5k
Warnings: n/a
[Prologue], [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3]
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Azriel would never confess it aloud, but restless whispers haunted his night—echoes of Y/n’s radiant scarlet gaze and soft, pink lips lingering in his thoughts. The dinner had unfolded in a blur, his embarrassment at his shadows’ untamed curiosity barely contained. Amidst the flurry of attention, Y/n garnered, he found himself sidelined, his usually silent insecurities amplified as laughter and light seemed to orbit her effortlessly. And her unexpected friendship with Lucien, it gnawed on Azriel to watch them exchange glances and secretive smiles, angry at how easily he captured her attention, going as far as to ignore his mate, no matter Azriel’s own dalliances with Elain. 
Muffled by his pillow, Azriel’s sigh was a mix of frustration and anticipation; he longed for dawn, not only captivated by her allure but also intrigued by the essence of her power. Y/n’s presence had marked a rare moment where his shadows' invasive dance hadn’t sparked fear or repulsion—an interaction that lingered persistently in his mind.
So when he made his way to the training ring, expecting to be alone to gather the rest of his thoughts, he was stunned to see a crowd already there. Traditionally the first to arrive, Azriel cherished these moments of quiet preparation before the day's chaos ensued. Yet, there they all were—Cassian joking with the Valkyries, Rhys descending with Feyre in tow, and even Amren positioned with her characteristic aloof observation.
For a moment, Azriel considered questioning the time, so out of sync with his expectations, before his gaze settled on the ring's center. Y/n commanded the space, her figure, cross-legged, suspended above the earth. The sight of her, ensconced in her crimson magic, edged with ethereal white shadows, captivated him wholly.
As her eyes opened, locking with his, a silent acknowledgment passed between them—a momentary connection that sent an unexpected jolt through him.
Dressed in tightly fitted leathers that accentuated her form, she exuded a presence that continued to stun Azriel, compelling him to avert his gaze in a rare display of discomposure. The subtle shift in his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Cassian, who, with a chuckle, seized the moment to lighten the mood.
“I guess the training ground got a bit more interesting," Cassian quips, earning an eye roll from Feyre. "So, what are we starting with today? Or are we just here to admire the view?"
Y/n, only smirking at the banter, rose with an elegance that seemed to defy the very nature of gravity. She motioned towards the practice weapons as a dagger flew into each of her hands, inquiring "Who's up for a spar with me?"  
Before the others could process her actions, surprised at her magic; Azriel steps into the ring, the shadows at his command receding as he speaks, "I request the honor."
The agreement is silent but understood—no magic, just the skill of arms. Y/n stood ready, her dual daggers gleaming like extensions of her will, while Azriel, wielding a single dagger with a calm assurance, mirrored her posture. Their duel began with the two warriors slowly circling each other, each step measured and deliberate. 
Y/n's gaze sharpens, her focus solely on Azriel as she searches for any sign of vulnerability, deliberately setting aside the distracting thoughts of how his attire complements the deadly intent in his posture. Despite years of rigorous training, honing both body and mind, she finds herself momentarily caught up in how pretty her opponent’s curly hair is, inviting an almost irrepressible urge to reach out and test the spring of a single curl.
Yet, she's quickly snapped back to reality as Cassian yells– “Oi! Will you two fight or keep making eyes at each other!”
Y/n's cheeks flush with a heat that rivals the morning sun, her focus briefly fractured by Cassian's teasing. The realization that her momentary distraction had been so visible, so palpable to everyone else, ignites a spark of embarrassment within her. She glances up at Azriel’s eyes, expecting to find amusement or perhaps annoyance, but instead, she catches a glimpse of a blush creeping up his neck, a show of discomposure that mirrors her own. 
The air between them, charged with an unexpected tension, shifts as Azriel suddenly lunges forward, his movement a blur of precision and speed. It's a surprising aggression from him, given the usual patience and strategy he displays in combat. A chorus of exclamations erupts from their audience, a mix of surprise and excitement that fills the training ring.
In the split second it took for Azriel to lunge, Y/n's heart skipped a beat—not from fear, but from an electric jolt of understanding. So the spymaster was prone to the same bouts of flusters and rush of emotions as anyone else.
Y/n's reaction was immediate, her training kicking in, allowing her to duck and counter with a swift maneuver, her daggers slicing through the air in an arc aimed at Azriel's midsection. He parries with his blade, the metal singing as it meets her attack, deflecting her strike with a precision that speaks of centuries in the shadows. They break apart for a fraction of a second, assessing each other, before launching back into the fray.
Y/n, wielding twin daggers, utilizes a fighting style that is as much about misdirection and movement as it is about attack, staying in each position for only seconds at a time. Azriel, anticipating this, counters with his single, heavier dagger, meeting Y/n’s attack and attempting to use his opponent's momentum against her. The battle quickly transitions into close-quarters combat, their movements a blur to the onlookers. 
Azriel, seizing an opportunistic moment, aims a strike at her left thigh—a reminder of her old injury. It's a low blow, figuratively speaking, leveraging his knowledge of her past vulnerabilities. But time and her magic have woven strength back into her form, allowing her to sidestep with a grace that hides the remnants of the wound. 
Y/n feints then spins, her dual daggers a whirlwind of deadly intent as she aims for an opening in Azriel's defense. He counters, stepping in close, his single dagger thrusting towards her in a series of rapid strikes that she narrowly deflects.
At that moment, as Y/n faced Azriel, time seemed to dissolve around her, the world narrowing to the space of their duel. She felt an exhilarating rush of clarity, her usually tumultuous mind quieting to a whisper, leaving only the pure, unbridled focus of the fight. Her body moved of its own accord, every step and twist a testament to years of training, her consciousness drifting away from reality, disconnected and free. 
Then, in a breathtaking display of agility, Y/n launched into the air, her body spinning horizontally in a swift, fluid motion. She landed gracefully behind Azriel, catching him off guard. With a precise, rapid swipe, she crouched down and swept his legs from under him, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before the onlookers could even process the move, she was already flipped over him, straddling his chest with a dagger poised at his throat and another aimed at his heart, her actions so lightning-fast, the crowd barely had time to blink.
Pinned beneath Y/n, Azriel found himself momentarily lost, mesmerized by the sight of her above him. Her cheeks were flushed from the exertion, breaths coming slightly heavy, yet there was a glow about her, enhanced by the sunlight that kissed her face, transforming her red eyes into sparkling rubies. At that moment, he couldn't determine what left him more breathless—the intensity of their spar or the sheer force of her presence.
A part of him silently pleaded for her to rise, fearful of how his body might betray him under her proximity. Relief washed over him as she extended her hand, a silent offer to help him up. Instinctively, he reached out, then hesitated, the sudden realization hitting him that she would feel the scars that marred his skin. The thought of pulling back flashed through his mind, but it was too late; she had already grasped his hand. He braced himself for any sign of flinch or disgust, but it never came. She pulled him to his feet, her gaze never dropping to his scars, her touch devoid of any hesitation. The slight smile she offered him at that moment was something he wished he could preserve indefinitely—a memory to be cherished.
Their quiet moment of understanding, however, was swiftly broken by applause and Cassian's booming voice, punctuating the air with both humor and admiration. "That's the most intense spar I've ever seen Az lose!" he exclaimed, clapping Azriel on the back before draping an arm around Y/n.
Rhys, joining in, added, "Clearly, you've been working hard on the continent, Y/n. Even injured, to have the spar last nearly an hour…" His words trailed off, leaving a note of respect hanging between them.
Azriel, his heart still racing from the duel and the exchange that followed, barely registered the passage of time. It had felt like mere minutes to him, not nearly an hour. But before he could think further, Nesta and the Valkyries converged around Y/n, their admiration clear as they bombarded her with questions about her technique, eager to learn from her prowess.
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A/N: Yay! Azriel and Y/n finally had a one on one interaction!! I had a fun time writing this chapter and planning out their spar scene. I've only practiced martial arts with hand-to-hand combat and fencing so dagger fights aren't something I have much experience in -- Y/n's horizontal jump is inspired by the dagger fight in Dune 2, where Paul does that action and it looks really cool.
For my tag list, I tagged everyone who asked and those who commented on the previous parts. If you'd like to be included, please just let me know. 💕
TAGLIST: @strangelygreat @enfppuff @trip-n-sal @inloveallthetime @annamariereads16 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @annblvd @ania-swissweet @yearninglustfully @sleepylunarwolf @quiettuba @gorlillaglue25 @lilah-asteria @naturakaashi @sillymercury @itsswritten @xlosttdreamss @kennedy-brooke @xyzmeh @lucky7rosie @copenhagenspirit @collide-with-the-music @starsinyourseyes @dianxiaxiexie @maybefoxysouls @golden-canyon @violet-potter @thisiskaylin @acphengene @katherinejess @sevikas-whore @kalulakunundrum @hibye02 @madscamp02 @willowpains
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elainemg97 · 3 days
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✨“I can help her.”✨
Reader, he did. He helped her again and again. He spent time with her out in the garden; he helped her discover she was a seer; he gave her Truth-Teller, a blade he had never given to anyone. He saved her from Hybern’s war camps and would not let go of her until Rhys took her from his arms. He was with her through every step of her healing journey, so no wonder she fell for him.
I love them, your honor 😭❤️
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rae2velaris · 2 days
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@bright-side20 I really enjoyed this post of yours, so I made slides for them. 🥰❤️
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azsazz · 2 days
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Hide (Part 2)
Eris x Rhysands!Sister Reader
Summary: Anon Req: Literally in love with every fic you write. I know your requests are closed but in the future, could you write something where Eris and the reader see each other and there’s a lot of tension and they’re secretly mates but no one knows? I’m curious to see how you’d end it!
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 1,428
[Part One]
Notes: Obsessing over this one.
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You swallow harshly at your brother’s question, eyes darting over to catalogue your mate. You try not to startle in your seat when a wall of harsh autumn winds slams between your bond. He’s only protecting you; you must remind yourself. There’s a fine tremble to your hands, so you clench them together in your lap. 
Azriel notes the move, your restlessness as Rhysand stares down your mate like these are his last moments on this plane of existence. You have no idea what Rhysand’s going to do to Eris, but with the thick darkness rolling from his shoulders and slowly filling the room, whatever it might be will not be good.
You cannot let that happen. 
“Rhysand—"
Your brother holds up a hand, his glare swinging towards you. The thin line of betrayal ringing his eyes makes your stomach roil. You hadn’t meant to break his trust and you never intended on keeping secrets from him, but with the courts on the edge of war…
“Do. Not. Speak.” Rhysand’s demand is a death knell of its own. When you were young, you remember how he’d always been the one to listen to any of your problems, even when they felt silly. He would always offer you a solution if you were looking for one, or a piece of cake if you only wanted to wallow in your feelings. 
The smell of burning wood answers his harsh words. 
Cassian shifts in his seat, eyeing Eris. He leans further back in his chair and places his hand on the table, the wicked curve of the short blade clutched firmly in his hand pointing directly at your mate.
Your bond flares, eyes going hard at the sight of the threat to your mate. You’re ready to jump out of your seat, scramble across the table to tackle the male, no matter how much you consider him family. You know all of Cassian’s weak spots, and your gaze is calculating as you decide which maneuver will draw him away from your mate.
The single look Eris sends you keeps you from reacting. 
Instead, you settle back in your seat, showing Eris your unfaltering trust for him. You will allow your mate to say his piece to your brother. You might be crossing your arms over your chest with a hard look all your own, but you will heed Eris’ silent ask of you.
Eris is a mask of nonchalance, and you wish he hadn’t blocked you from his feelings, but it’s better this way. He cannot have your reactions to your brother muddling his own feelings. It’s safer for the both of you to keep to yourself right now, no matter how much you hate the idea of being apart from him like this.
“I will ask you once more,” Rhysand’s voice is filled with smoke. “How long have you been putting your filthy fucking hands on my sister.”
Something flares in Eris’ russet eyes that makes you want to bite, to snarl at your brother for his cruelness. You gnaw the insides of your cheeks to keep from snapping. 
“Would hearing that answer please you, High Lord?” Eris snarks back. He sits easily in his seat as if this isn’t an interrogation at all, as if they’re all bantering over the weather and Rhysand isn’t looking at him like he’s about to unleash the beast within him that he keeps on a short chain. The only give to Eris’ temper are the burnt handprints on the armrests of the chair he’s lounging in. “To know that the fires of autumn light the stars of night?” 
You want to hiss at him for his words. You should’ve known better that Eris would do nothing but taunt your brother. He is nowhere near as powerful as Rhys, especially since he is still under the rule of his father, but his specialty is that mouth of his. 
You try not to think about how he uses that mouth when he’s with you, the yearning for him flooding your body so deeply you clench your thighs together. Another motion that Azriel tracks, cocking his head a little as he watches you with that unnervingly stoic face of his. You shoot him a pleading look but are unable to make out how he reads into your pleas not to hurt your mate.
Rhysand bares his teeth in warning. The flare of his nostrils and the stars winking out of his eyes tells you that he’s moments away from unleashing his wrath upon Eris.
“Two years,” you blurt and all gazes swing your way. You don’t look at anyone else except for Eris, your eyes soft and pleading. His eyes flicker back and forth between yours and his shoulders slump a little, cracking the steel trap blocking your bond to send down a cool rush of apology that you accept with a soft nod. “We’ve been mated for two years.” 
There’s a sharp exhale coming from your brother but you can’t look away from your mate. Two years since you offered him that dessert from your favorite bakery the one time you’d been able to sneak away from your brother and his friends to meet Eris at the portal where Night crossed into Autumn. 
Two years of fiery, passionate nights, hidden away in your own solace. Two years of a fresh breath of autumn, of copper hair and russet eyes and the warmest hands you’ve ever had the pleasure of touching. Two years of unyielding loyalty. Two years of too much time spent apart—
No more. You won’t have it. Rhysand can act as protective older brother as much as he wants but it isn’t going to stop you from being with Eris any longer.
Darkness of your own ekes out of you as you plant your hands on the smooth surface of the table and rise. You stare Rhysand down as the tendrils of black wind around his, Azriel, and Cassian’s wrists, pinning them to their spots. You are in no way matching Rhysand’s power, but he seems at a loss for words as you stand up for yourself, watching with those all too calculating feline eyes of his, allowing you your time.
Stalking around the table, you don’t break the High Lord’s gaze. You hold your chin high even if there’s a pinch of terror in your gut for this continued betrayal to your brother, to your court. But he has no idea what you’ve given up for this bond, how you’ve suffered being kept from your mate. 
One day, you hope Rhysand will understand. Will understand why you halt a step behind where your mate is still trapped to his chair. Why you place a hand on his shoulder, the feeling of him after so long filling your lungs to maximum capacity. You haven’t ben able to breathe fully since you’ve been away from each other. 
He’ll understand why it is that your actions look like you’re swearing fealty to another court, when you’ve already been a patron of autumn ever since you and Eris completed your mating bond. 
“What are you—“ Your brother breathes when he realizes the severity of what you’re doing.
“I will not be kept from my mate any longer.” Your words are loud and sure. You think you’ve done a good job at standing up to Rhysand, until his eyes flicker and the house shakes on its studs.
All of the air is sucked from the room at your words. The strip of skin you’re touching on Eris’ neck warms, but it does little to settle you. You’re not out of the clear yet.
Slowly, all too slowly, Rhysand leans back in his seat. The way he’s looking at you makes you shift in your spot, the disbelief and  in his eyes a bright streak before he snuffs it out, returning to the easy role of High Lord he’s practices meticulously for centuries. 
It hurts to see.
With a careless flick of his hand he breaks through your shadows with ease. All of the darkness in the room dissipates, ever faithful to their master. You only hold an ounce of power compared to him. 
The corner of his mouth curves, and if it’s a smirk or a snarl you don’t know, but neither is as harrowing as the words that slip past his lips. “I wonder which will get you killed faster—your loyalty or your love.” Rhysand stands, turning his back on you as he stalks towards the door. “Get out of my court.”
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Tagging those who commented if you don't want to be tagged on this just lmk <3 Some of you couldn't be tagged btw
Hide Taglist: @littlestw01f @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen @naturakaashi @lexluvswriting @chybay22 @roseliey @acotar-thirst @teenagellamaangel @minaethrym @tothestarsandwhateverend @coolepowersthings @lena-davina @xyzmeh @meritxellao @shadowdaddysposts @callsigns-haze @mrs-azriel @eminvelaris @daily-does-of-sass @kennedy-brooke
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itsphoenix0724 · 1 day
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I don’t know if your still doing the bouquet event. But an orchid with Rhysand sounds wonderful!
Orchid (Rhysand x Reader)
Warnings: angst (don't hate me)
Word Count: 970
❀° Event Masterlist ❀°
A/N: Thank you for visiting my page, I'm so sorry this took me so long to write. Reader takes the place of Feyre in this fic so Nesta and Elain are her sisters. I have a very complicated relationship with Rhys idk why he's just super hard to write for me. Please don't kill me but this is angsty I'm so sorry. But I hope that you enjoy it <3
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You haven’t been able to leave the nursery since you brought your baby home. He was perfect, the crown of inky black hair matching his father, with your eyes staring back up at you. You’re humming softly rocking the cradle back and forth as he sleeps, the knitted bat stuffed animal curled under his small arm. Your body tenses as your husband slips through the doorway, he utters your name and you glare at him without stopping your lullaby. 
“I will not discuss this in front of our son.” Your tone betrays nothing of your feelings, refusing to let anything show in his presence. Rhys’s face pales a shade but he nods and gestures with his head to the door. After giving a subtle nod you leave the sleeping prince in his cradle, safely guarded by moonlight dreams, and follow Rhys out of the room. You want for nothing more than a glass of liquor, preferably the strongest Velaris has to offer, as you stand across the study from your husband.  Alas, you are nursing so your desire remains a boiling headache sprouting in your temples. 
“Darling-” Rhysand starts, but you raise one hand and he stops speaking, snapping his jaw shut. You take a moment to look at Rhysand fully. His raven hair, so normally well-kempt, is run through and the purple half-moons under his eyes cast grotesque shadows on unnaturally pale skin. You’ve barely spoken to him in days since Nyx was born. 
In fact, you’ve refused to see any of the inner circle at all seldom your sisters.
“I am going to talk now. You are going to do nothing but listen.” You will steel into your spine, wishing your power to grant you the strength for this. Rhys nods once sitting in his chair and wringing his hands together in his lap. “You made me your equal, and yet you betray me. You force the hands of our truest friends to betray me.” You have felt a tidal wave of emotions since you found out what your mate kept from you. 
Anger, betrayal, disgust, but all you feel now is sadness. 
Sadness at the reaper that seems to have been following you through your first week as a mother, anger at your sister for snatching your family back from the cold iron of his grip. 
“You have proven that the members of this court will obey your wishes without any regard for me as your equal. Not only that, the worst thing about this is you were going to let us die in ignorance, after promising that I would always have a choice with you. That is what truly breaks me, mate.” You watch your husband fall apart before you. The High Lord of Night crumbling and dissolving like salt in water. You want to go to him, you want to ease his sobs and tell him that everything is alright. 
But everything is very much not all right. 
“Why?” is the only thing you can manage to croak out, your tears finally cracking the damn that you’ve built to keep them at bay. Rhys stands, crossing the room and three wide steps, and wraps you in his arms. You try to fight it but you let yourself collapse into the warm embrace he offers. You wail, cursing the world and your mate, beating your hands against his chest half-heartedly. He cups your cheek a thumb running to wipe the silver from your eyes, but your hands remain limp at your sides.
“I have no excuse,” he swears sinking to his knees you follow him melting without the force of his weight to keep you upright. “I tried to do my best by Madja’s instructions. I did not want to rip the joy from you, but I had no right. I’m so sorry my love, so so sorry. I wanted to bring you the news with a solution.”  You still choke around your sobs, the solid iron you’ve built around the bond cracking just a fraction, letting some of its golden light shine back through. 
“You also had no right to send Nesta on that hike. Her intentions may have been egregious, but she is the only one who was honest with me.” Rhys’s lips press into a thin line, the topic of your sister always a touchy one, but he nods. 
“I’ll do my best to be better for you.” Rhys gulps around the tightening in his throat. You don’t know how long you spend crying on the floor of his study, Rhys soothing your hair before something finally lightens in your heart and you let go. 
Forgiveness. 
You realize after one heartbeat, then two, that this feeling is forgiveness. You almost collapse under the weight of it. You meet Rhysand’s eyes and let the walls of the bond fall and you feel the palpable relief, see it in his eyes. 
“You have to be better.” You mutter, and Rhys nods resting his forehead against yours. 
“I’ll do better for you. For Nyx. For our family.” He swears and you feel the burn of another promise singeing into your skin, the stretching wings of a dove appearing on your sternum, you can see the twin appearing on Rhys’s own skin. Finally, you press your lips to his and he melts hauling you onto his lap. His kiss is bruising, the bond between you both singing happily in your chests. This healing road will be long, and the trust you’ve built with your family now broken and fragile. But the road is visible, the fog of pain gone from the path you must take. You will forgive, no matter how hard it will be. Rhys’s hands are shaking as he presses a kiss to your forehead. After all of the pain.
Forgiveness is a welcome feeling.
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deboecia · 3 days
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I’ll finish this when SJM announces the next Acotar book 🔮🌸
Follow me on IG for other excuses to avoid your art 🌸 (@morwenaert)
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foxylady13 · 16 hours
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Lucien and Elain/ Rhysand and Feyre
We get a brief look into Lucien's thoughts from Feyre POV in ACOWAR and this is what they are:
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In these thoughts, Lucien recognized Elain was too thin and thinks she must not be eating. He goes on to fight his mating instincts, even the ones where it's chanting that she is his. (Which is a lot different/healthier than Azriel questioning the Cauldron wondering why the third sister wasn't given to him like he's owed her because his friends are with the other two)
Who else pretty much fought their mating instincts for MONTHS and recognized their mate wasn't eating right/losing weight? Rhysand. He even brought it up to Tamlin Feyre lost weight and that he wasn't happy about it.
Mates know and recognize what is wrong with their mates. Lucien and Rhysand have both proved this... to ignore the signs is willful ignorance, imo.
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the-darkestminds · 3 days
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Elain and Lucien aren’t ready yet but they will be soon ☝️
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