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roselensedeyes · 8 months

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Sisters of the Moon

Happy @elainarcheronweek everyone! For Day Two: Sister and Friend, I wrote a short one shot about Feyre and Elain travelling the continent like they wanted to in book one. I liked writing this story, I resonate a lot with both Feyre and Elain! I hope you enjoy this!

Pairing: elriel (if you squint)

Rating: sfw

Word count: 3.3 k

Elain Archeron adjusted her floppy hat and sighed. They were late.

She couldn’t even be mad, not really.

A few months ago, her sister, Feyre, and her brother-in-law, Rhysand, had approached her with a proposal she couldn’t refuse. At first, she’d been wary when she saw the two of them walk toward her with two big smiles on their faces. But as they talked, her wariness turned into delight. She’d accepted readily, squealing and clapping her hands like a child who had been given her favorite candy.

Now, two months later, Elain was waiting in front of the carriage that was supposed to take her, Feyre and her nephew, Nyx, to the coast. From there, they’d get on a ship that would take them to the continent.

Elain remembered a conversation with her sister a few years prior, where they’d decided to travel the continent together. She’d be the first to admit she’d forgotten all about that, what with the war and Feyre’s pregnancy. But it appeared her younger sister hadn’t forgotten it, and for her birthday this year, decided to give Elain this precious gift.

The three of them would go by themselves at first, and Rhys would join them after a couple of weeks. He’d claimed he had to look over the finances, but Elain knew it was just an excuse. He’d never leave Feyre and Nyx for more than a few hours, but he wanted to allow his mate and her sister bond, to give them a chance to build a relationship their childhoods denied them.

Nyx, or Nyxie, as he was lovingly called by his family, however, was still too young to be away from Feyre for weeks, which meant he’d have to come with them, consequently meaning Rhysand wouldn’t see him for two weeks. It came as no surprise, then, that they were late. He was probably soaking up all the love his mate and their child had to give him.

Elain’s heart clenched at the thought. She yearned for a love like theirs, to create a family as beautiful as theirs. But it wasn’t her time, not yet. Soon, she would have all of it. She just had to be patient.

She sighed and leaned against the carriage door. Elain glanced up at the sky, her hat shielding her brown eyes from the sun’s blinding light, hoping to catch Feyre and Rhysand in the sky. The warmth kissed her cheeks, and she closed her eyes, bathing in it. It was a quiet morning, the occasional chirping of birds in the distance the only sound. The sweet perfume of her flowers reached her nostrils, and she inhaled its scent. Elain let out another sigh. It was such a peaceful moment.

She snapped her eyes open as a thumping sound came from a few feet in front of her. She heard, more than saw, Nyx let out a happy gurgle. Elain couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her face. She loved her nephew more than anything else in the world.

Nyx saw her and started squealing excitedly, babbling, “tee, tee”, which Elain knew meant auntie. She headed towards them, her arms out to grab Nyx. After peppering him with kisses, Elain settled him in her arms, his head gently laying in the crook of her neck, she finally turned toward her sister and brother-in-law.

Rhysand was the first to plant a big kiss on her cheeks, followed by Feyre who tried to hug her around her son. “Hi, Elain. Sorry for being late.”

She waved her apologies away. “It’s no matter, I understand. Is everything ready now?”

Feyre nodded, just as Rhysand helped put their trunks on the second carriage, a smaller one. They chatted a bit more, with Rhys holding and kissing and cuddling his son and mate. Elain looked away at that, giving them their privacy.

It was then that she noticed three other figures. She huffed out a laugh. The sound startled one of them, the female one. Nesta, her older sister.

Elain approached them, a bright smile on her face. “Hi, Nesta.”

Nesta smiled back at her.

Ever since she’d started training with Cassian and her friends, Nesta had become happier, healthier. She’d gained some weight, her skin had a healthy glow to it that made her devastatingly beautiful. Though the biggest change in her older sister were her features. They were no longer sharp and severe. No, now they were graced by soft, bright smiles, the crinkles around her eyes proof of it.

“Elain,” Nesta greeted her. She gestured to the two Illyrian males flanking her sides. “We wanted to wish you and Feyre safe travels. We didn’t want to interrupt the two love birds, though”. The second part was accompanied by an affectionate eye roll. Elain smiled, just as Cassian snorted.

“That’s bullshit. You were trying not to cr—ouch!” Nesta elbowed him in the stomach, effectively stopping him from continuing. Yet Elain knew what he meant to say.

She turned to look at her older sister. Feyre and Elain had asked Nesta if she wanted to come with them on their travels, but unfortunately she and her friends, along with Mor and Cassian, were to start a training class for the other priestesses and had to decline the offer. Elain knew it ate away at Nesta, that she felt like she was disappointing her sisters once again, no matter how many times Feyre and Elain assured her that it wasn’t the case.

The relationship between the three sisters had improved since the day Nyx was born, since the day they had almost lost Feyre and Rhysand. It was what had brought them closer, the freight of losing one of them for good gave them the push they needed to form the relationship they always should have had.

“I wish you could come with us Nesta, but,” Elain rushed to add when she saw Nesta’s face fall. “I understand why you can’t. What you’re doing is admirable, the help you can offer these women is nothing short of amazing. I’m proud of you, I’m proud to call you my sister.”

A faint blush dusted Nesta’s cheeks, deepening the more Elain spoke. Elain saw Cassian’s hand land on the small of his mate’s back, offering her a small comfort.

Elain glanced at the other male. Azriel. He was already staring at her, an intense look in his eyes that made her own cheeks flush. She quickly looked away, a strange fluttering in her chest. He’d always had that effect on her, since the first time she’d laid eyes on him, when she was still engaged to Graysen.

Elain shook her head, willing those thoughts away. Today was about her and Feyre— and Nyx— not anyone else.

Her younger sister and her family had joined them, Nyx now latching onto his uncle Cass— or, as he called him, Unc Cashy. She probably was biased, Elain knew, but she firmly believed that Nyx was the most adorable baby in existence.

Several minutes later, Elain and her younger sister waved their family goodbye as the carriage moved forward. Feyre had Nyx on her knees, her hand wrapped loosely around his tiny wrist to make him wave at his father and uncles and aunt. Elain could have sworn Rhysand’s eyes were shining with unshed tears.

As their figures became smaller and smaller, Elain turned to face her beloved sister again. “Thank you. For this trip,” she said.

A small graced Feyre’s lips. “There’s no need. I wanted to do this, with you.”

Flashes of their childhood blurred Elain’s visions, making her recall those winter nights that the three sisters spent cuddled in that too-tiny bed, seeking a warmth not even the fireplace could offer. Those scorching hot summer nights, when sleeping was rendered uncomfortable by the inevitable sweating, and the fights and ugly words that ensued. Their rumbling, aching bellies when Feyre was unable to hunt any animal, and the money too scarce to afford anything other than stale bread.

A knot formed in her throat, and no matter how many times she tried, Elain couldn’t seem to swallow past it.

“I’m sorry, you know,” she whispered.

Feyre inclined her head inquisitively. “What for?”

Elain swallowed again. “For the way your childhood was. You were the youngest in our household, yet we forced you to be the adult. I’m sorry you were never allowed to be a child, I’m sorry we never taught you how to read. You deserved better, and we—I disappointed you.”

Quietness enveloped the carriage, Nyx’s babbling the only sound to be heard.

When Feyre at last spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to apologize. I’ve already forgiven you. I spent years of my life resenting you and Nesta for not helping me enough, even when I begged you to. I always felt like I didn’t belong, and I resented you for that too.” She shook her head. “I’m ashamed to admit I hated you for how close you were. And I blamed you for it, because if I didn’t have to focus on making sure there was food on the table and enough wood to warm us during the coldest nights, then maybe I could become a part of your bond too. It was all I ever wanted.”

Elain’s sight became blurry, and she felt a lone tear run down her cheek. It was soon followed by countless others, yet not a sound came out of her. She’d learned through the years how useful silent crying was.

“I’m so sorry. The way we treated you, I– It’s my biggest regret. I wish I could have a good enough reason.” The guilt was clear in her words.

Feyre smiled faintly. “I appreciate your words, though unnecessary as they might be. As I was saying, that’s how I felt. Becoming a mother gave me a whole new perspective.”

The High Lady of the Night Court adjusted her son in her arms as she reached forward to grab her older sister’s hands. “Elain, you and Nesta were not responsible for me, for our house. Our father was. He was the one who failed me, failed all of us. Should you two have helped me out? Perhaps. But it wasn’t your job, it wasn’t your role. I took it on when I saw he wasn’t going to move a finger, and I would have appreciated your help, but I can’t, I refuse to imagine my Nyxie taking on a role his living parent should do.”

Elain had to hide her wince at Feyre’s words. It stung hearing her be so harsh to their father, though he deserved it.

While Nesta was doted on by their mother and grandmother, Elain had been pretty much ignored by them. They’d always speak to her with a condescending tone whenever she talked about her garden and plants, always dismissing her as she tried making herself heard. She remembers spending sleepless nights silently crying in her bed, trying to conjure up ways to make her mother love and listen to her.

She never succeeded.

Yet her father never once made her feel wrong or stupid, always made her feel like she was more than just a pretty face, as she’d once overheard her mother call her. The sweetest memories of Elain’s childhood were of sitting on her father’s knees, telling him all the new things she’d learned about plants, of the best way to grow orchids, and how to get rid of ivy. He’d ooh and ahh at the right times, and in turn would tell her all the flowers he’d seen on his travels to the continent, and promised her he would one day take her to see them.

He never did, and now, he never would honor his vow to her.

But her father broke more than one promise. Feyre was right, their father had betrayed them the moment he gave up. He had failed them in the most painful way a parent could fail their child. She remembered the hours staring at her father, willing him to get up, to do something, anything, and the feeling of betrayal churning in her stomach. Elain had tried to make excuses for him. She’d tried to remember those moments in the garden under the sun, her father, his kind eyes so much like hers, reassuring that all would be well, that the next time her flowers would bloom, as his thumbs wiped away her tears. Yet none of the warm memories she recalled helped lessen the blow he’d dealt her.

Elain’s father had always been the one person on her side, until he wasn’t. Until he decided to let his shame wrap around him.

“You’re right,” Elain nodded to her sister. “But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have helped you. I wasn’t there for you, and I’m sorry. Like I wasn’t responsible for your well-being, neither were you of me. And yet you embraced it.”

Feyre nodded. “Perhaps. But I don’t resent you for it, and you shouldn’t beat yourself up.”

Elain smiled gratefully. She closed her eyes, hoping the rhythm of the carriage would lull her to sleep.

“I wasn’t there for you either, when you needed me the most.”

Feyre’s words made her eyes snap open. She opened her mouth, confused, but her sister went ahead.

“After what Graysen did I– I wasn’t there. I was focused on the war, and then Nyx and I never asked you how you were doing. If you needed help.”

“Oh,” was all Elain said. “No, don’t. They were more important than a break up.”

Feyre shook her head. “That doesn’t mean I couldn’t focus on you too.” She settled Nyx on her right knee, shifting her body so her left side leaned toward her older sister. “And it wasn’t just a break up. After what happened with Tamlin I–saying I was devastated doesn’t do it justice. Yet no one told me there were more important things to worry about.”

Feyre leaned back in her seat, watching Elain as she waited for her reply. Nyx looked up at his mom, a toothless smile breaking out on his face. She smiled softly back at him, her index grazing his soft cheek. He let out a giggle, his little wings fluttering behind him.

“You’ve always been there for me, Feyre. Even when you weren’t physically there, I could feel you in my heart. We’re sisters.”

She wasn’t ready to talk about Greysen, not yet. She’d gotten over him, rarely thought of him anymore, but the memory still brought her pain, and shame, at times. She’d thought he was the love of her life, but Elain had soon realized the ugly truth of it. No matter how many years passed, Elain was certain she’d never forget the pure hatred and disgust that had marred his features when he broke their engagement, when he’d seen the undeniable proof of her new being. It was the most heartbreaking, humiliating day of her life.

Feyre seemed to read this in her eyes, because she nodded and turned her attention to her son, who was delighting himself with tugging on her hair. Elain smiled at the sight, before casting her eyes on the view outside. It was now midday, the sun high in the sky, its heat almost scorching. The leaves on the trees were a bright green, blatant proof that spring was in full bloom. Closing her eyes in hope of some rest, the movements of the carriage rocked her to a quiet sleep, Nyx’ babbling and Feyre’s soft whispers in the background.

They didn’t travel the entire continent. No, that wouldn’t be feasible, the High Lady and High Lord couldn’t postpone their obligations for that long. Still, Elain’d been mesmerized by the dances and art, the peace that reigned over the territory. She’d acquired many unknown seeds, praying the Prythian climate and terrain would make them sprout. Feyre had promised her they could finish the tour some other time, but Elain had assured her she was content with things as they were. She’d hinted she might return with someone else, to Feyre’s surprise. Her sister had been delighted when she told her who, exactly, she’d travel the rest of the continent with.

Now, two weeks after they’d come back to the Night Court, Elain was getting ready for the welcome back party Nesta had insisted on throwing them. She’d been pretty adamant about it, too. It had stunned her two sisters, and the rest of their family too, really, but Nesta wouldn’t budge.

The lilac tulle dress she opted to wear hugged her curve nicely, but not tight enough to suffocate her. Summer was nearing, and with it the damp heat. Nuala had helped her braid her golden-brown hair in a crown plait. It wasn’t a hairstyle she usually wore, but Elain found she liked it with the gown she was put on.

Voices reached her pointed ears.

As she reached the bottom of the staircase, they became clearer and louder. She could hear Cassian’s booming laughter at something Nyx did, followed by Nesta’s reprimand. Her sister was anxious, Elain knew. She wanted everything to go smoothly. As the sitting room came into view, Elain could see Feyre and Rhysand sitting together, the High Lady’s back to his front, the Illyrian’s arm draped across her shoulder in an intimate, possessive gesture. They were looking in the same direction, to Cassian standing in front of the fireplace. Nyx was on the floor, his back to her, and she could see his wings flapping swiftly behind him. To her shock, her nephew started floating in the air. She almost cried out, but something poked her shoulder.

It was a shadow. Elain scanned the room until her eyes settled on its owner.

Azriel was on the other side of the room, near her. He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. His ease made her relax slightly, and when she realized Feyre and Rhysand weren’t at all worried, she loosened up.

She gave Azriel a small of her own, noticed the way his eyes darkened as they fixed on her mouth. Elain felt a flush creep up her neck, and glanced away.

Nesta was already looking at her. Elain smiled and walked toward her, her arms already out to embrace her sister.

“Hi, Nes. Thank you for this,” she said.

Nesta smiled, tense. “I hope you like it. I’m not as good at this stuff as you.”

“It’s perfect. I love it, really.”

“If my mate didn’t try to injure my nephew, and subsequently destroy the decorations I spent a lot of time putting up, I’m sure it’s going to be a great night,” her sister said, throwing a faux glare in Cassian’s direction.

He chuckled. “It’s normal play for Illyrians. He’s going to need to learn sooner or later, and at least now all of us are here.”

Indeed, Amren and Mor were both in the room. Amren was reading a tome next to the shelves, while Mor was lounging on a chair.

Nesta huffed. “That doesn’t mean that I like it. I rather Nyx be in one piece, thank you very much.”

Feyre laughed. Nesta looked at her, saw the ease and contentment painted on her face, and smiled too. The first real smile of the night.

Elain sat in a chair near the shadows, and as she watched her family talk, laugh, and bicker, she couldn’t help but let a smile of her own come out.

When she’d seen this image, years ago, it had been impossible to believe they’d ever reach this level of lightheartedness. That they could all sit around in the same room and not tear each other’s throats out.

In the years since she was turned Fae, Elain Archeron had had many visions, some of them proving true, some that never saw the light of day.

As a shadow played with her hair, tickling her neck, she sent her thanks to the Mother for letting this one come true.

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offtorivendell · 2 years

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A nurtured spark bears fruit

Firstly, this post is based on the theories and headcanons I've previously written about Elain's possible skills with plants and magic (here, here and here), combined with @wingedblooms brilliant witch post (where I was first reminded about the Blueblood witch zealots using pain to reach the divine). Secondly, I'm so sorry this is days late. I would say that life couldn't get any busier at the moment, but I don't want to jinx it. This is largely unedited and not my best work, so yeah... beware run-on sentences at minimum. 😅

Day 2 of @elainarcheronweek - Hobbies (ship free)

Elain swore under her breath as she tugged at the stubborn rosebush with all of her new fae might.

The problem? There was something different about this particular plant, and it wasn't giving up its prime location without a fight. Too bad she wanted to move the rose garden to a walk closer to the river and fill these patio beds with softer, fuller plants. Plants on which Nyx would catch his fragile little wings.

Elain had begun to suspect that she might have been giving a little extra oomph to her garden than she intended late the year before, but she'd ignored it. Things just grew better in Prythian, no? Of course, that must have been it. Velaris had a mild climate for most of the year, and rich, healthy soil; not to mention the magic of the land was like a fine wine to the flora that grew above the now defunct Wall. The moon and stars at night stood sentinel over the softly fragrant jasmine that bloomed each sunset, and the sun - a star in its own right, she'd learnt as she poured over an old tome in Rhys' library - called out to the roses, irises and violets, which thrived under its golden rays.

But this rosebush—Elain swore again as a thorn seemed to appear out of nowhere, piercing the skin of her left hand as she pulled once more.

She glared at the rosebush with baleful eyes.

"Rude."

It didn't matter that she was talking to the dratted plant if nobody heard her doing so, right? She sighed.

The rosebush didn't want to budge, and she had the eerie feeling that every time a thorn spiked her arms or hands, or a branch whipped painfully at her legs, she was teetering on the edge of something she was not yet ready to confront. So she turned from it once more, telling herself that one day soon she'd gather the courage to investigate what it all meant; what the iron gates around her mind were keeping in... and out.

So she left the bush alone, pruning it to keep it lush and healthy, yet careful not to pour too much of herself into the blooming green spark that glowed brightly within the heart of the fiesty plant, lest she created something she could not control.

***

An odd feeling, like a discordant musical note, set Elain's teeth on edge, the hair on her arms prickling her uncomfortably.

She didn't need her Sight to tell her that something was not right.

A frightened wail rose up from the patio garden at the River House of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, closely followed by a terrifyingly fierce snarling and thrashing sound, as if a beast had just been trapped against its will.

Silence followed.

Feyre's eyes widened with shock as Elain turned from their afternoon tea, realising that an Attor had slipped through some sort of tear in the fabric of the universe, and had attempted to make off with Nyx. The toddler had grown weary of sitting quietly while his mother and auntie caught up over strawberry tarts and tea, and had decided that exploring the edge of the patio was a grand idea. Still within toddling distance of his mother, he should have been safe.

He would have been taken—or been much closer to it, at any rate—if the stubborn rosebush had not reached out its suddenly much longer and thicker branches, with thorns now like talons piercing flesh, and snared the Attor in its grasp.

After Feyre had winnowed to Nyx and picked him up, carrying him to the far side of the courtyard to check him over while conversing with Rhys mind to mind, she disappeared with a much calmer Nyx in her arms, returning him to the safety of the house.

Alone for a moment, Elain had the chance to study the gruesome scene before her eyes. The once green and supple branches had thickened and browned, fashioning themselves into a fanged cage slowly studding with little blooms of the softest pink, making a mockery of the beast within.

As Rhys and Azriel stepped out from night-kissed shadows, flanking her on either side as they took in the sight for themselves, Elain was silently coming to appreciate the enormity of what had happened. Her plant had become both a sentinel and guardian, keeping their family's most precious member out of the clutches of their enemies - who, exactly, they could not yet be sure, but she had her suspicions.

Looking at the rosebush, perhaps truly seeing it for the first time, Elain smiled softly.

"Thank you," she whispered with all of her heart.

#elainarcheronweek2022 #elain archeron #elain's powers #elain's hobbies #stubborn rosebush #elain archeron week 2022 #elain week #elainweek2022 #elain fic #elain drabble #elain headcanon #pro elain archeron #pro elain

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utterlyotterlyx · 28 days

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Moth To A Flame

Summary - Azriel has a new friend in the form of a diary to talk to, and you are completely enchanted to find out exactly what they talk about.

Warnings - F L U F F F F F F F F F F, pining, wholesome all round

Word Count - 4.1k

Based on this ask

Winter Solstice was a magical time of year, one that had become even more meaningful with the additions of your ever-expanding family.

Before Feyre, it had just been you decorating the house and instructing Cassian to help you, scolding him when he would inevitably pop open a bottle of wine and find a nice couch to perch on whilst he barked unhelpful comments in your direction. The only good thing about Cassian's laziness was that Azriel would always show up to help you, whether that be resting his hands on your hips to keep you steady as you strung up the garlands, or getting on a ladder himself to reach the higher points that were beyond your reach, he was always there to assist.

Since Feyre, you were gifted with a band of women who wanted to help, Feyre reached the highest corners of the room, Elain made fresh garland rings from whatever she could find in the gardens of Velaris, and Nesta was meticulous in the placement of all of the decorations. Wine flowed and music played, and your heart had never felt so full and content.

That solstice had marked Nyx's fourth year within your special little family, and each year, the gifts had become more extravagant for the little one.

You had opted to stay in that morning and skip the annual snowball fight, choosing to watch it from the window with Elain as you both spent the morning preparing the meal you were going to feed to three huge Illyrian bats a few hours from then. Lucien had also opted to stay behind, his reason being to make sure that your wine glasses stayed full which earnt him a teasing glare from Azriel before his eyes flickered to you in silent conversation.

Snow floated down softly from the skies and you watched with a quiet giggle as you noticed Nyx reaching his little limbs upward to the sky in Feyre's arms, grasping at the flakes that were just in reach for him to capture. Then your watchful eye moved to Azriel, the male you were so irrevocably in love with who had no idea of your affections.

It was odd, for Azriel, a male who dreamed of a mate so badly, of real true love, to not see what had always been right in front of him. Though you had to give it to him, you weren't exactly forthcoming with your feelings in fear of being rejected.

Presents had been neatly arranged in piles, thanks to Lucien, and you had made sure to make everyone aware that each person had a certain coloured wrapping paper, you had told them it would make life easier since the family was too big now to spend time reading labels. Rhys had rolled his eyes at you, but pecked your cheek with a smirk at your usual perfectionist antics before agreeing and stalking off to make sure it was imperative to your plans that they do as told.

Life hadn't always been so perfect.

You had come from nothing, no family or title were bestowed to you, and you had unfortunately found yourself being sold to the Illyrian camps to entertain the males there before Rhys and his brothers had found you and taken you in. There was something about you that captivated them, and the more time they spent with you, getting to know you, the more they fell in love with everything that you were. Kind. Selfless. Loyal. Fierce. Their family wouldn't feel nearly as complete without you in it.

Azriel had smirked when they had re-entered the house, basking in the glow of another victory whilst you barked the exact place where they all needed to sit in front of their towering piles of presents. You had gone overboard again, you always did every year, showering them all in gifts which you never expected to be returned. That was the gift of you, all you wanted was for everyone else to be happy.

The house smelt divine. Baked chestnuts and cranberries, pine and candied oranges, and whatever honey you had put on the meat. All of their mouths were salivating at the thought of sitting down at that table and turning into feral beasts at the platter you had spent weeks planning and preparing.

A seamlessly planned gap had been created, a perfect moment for you all to sit down together and open your gifts before you bolted back into the kitchen and ordered Rhys to keep your wine topped up. It was the least he could do after all.

Your pile was nestled between Azriel and Mor's separate towers, the space on the deep seated sofa between them left free for you also. Azriel's eyes roamed your figure as you dipped into the kitchen and returned with a fresh glass of red wine, your bare feet padded along the floor and the short silver chrome dress that you had chosen to wear swayed with each step, grazing against your naked thighs.

Azriel thought that you were absolute perfection, to pure for their world, too pure for him to foolishly believe that he stood a chance with you.

Your scent drifted past him as you shimmied through the gap between his knees and the table, molten caramel apples and basil, a smell he could scent from any place he stood, no matter how far or near he was from you.

All of the piles were as you had ordered, in specific coloured papers, and the beaming smile on your face made all of the hassle of running about town worth it.

Everyone began opening their gifts in turn. Mor had flung her arms around you when she had opened a glittering red floor length dress that you had custom made for her. Feyre was beyond happy at the paintbrushes that you had inscribed her name into, Nesta was thrilled with her books, and Elain's bright eyes sifted through the cookbooks and ornate garden tools you had imported from Dawn. Another jewel for the firedrake and she was content, Cassian was audibly grateful for the armour you had gotten him which held a bit for flare than his current leathers, with golden sockets for his siphons which melted into the taut black leather of the skin.

Azriel shouldn't have been surprised when you went as far as to import delicacies from the Spring Court for Lucien, an assortment of baked goods and herbs that almost brought a tear to his eye. You knew how much Lucien missed being able to have a home, and you knew that Spring was the closest thing to a home he had ever had bar Elain.

Rhys howled in laughter when he unwrapped his matte black lint roller with a violet handle, promising to use it often before opening his real gift, a piece of art you had commissioned of himself, Feyre and Nyx at Starfall a year prior, covered in stardust and smiling brightly. Thoughtful as always.

Then you turned to Azriel, noticing he had opened most of his gifts apart from the ones that were clearly from you by the state of the perfectly wrapped edges and cobalt blue ribbons. He felt your eyes on him, pools of adoration he always found himself searching for, and he met your gaze as you handed him a small square box that rested in his palm.

Unwrapping it, navy velvet welcomed his eye and he looked at you with a small frown, listening to your silent urge to open it to find a thin onyx leather bracelet with a hot white glass pendent at its centre. The light swirled and danced like it was alive, growing more active as he inspected it. "What is it?"

Smiling, you took the bracelet from the box and secured it around his wrist, your touch alone sending electricity coursing through his veins, "I've been experimenting with my power," you told him softly as the room continued unphased in its own conversation like neither of you existed, "It's a piece of my soul," your fingers rested on his wrist and he felt his heart thump in his chest, "It's just so you know that you know I'm with you to light the way whenever you need it."

Azriel exhaled with disbelief, feeling unworthy of such a gift. A piece of your soul. So that you would always be with him.

"Y/N," he breathed, "This is- Thank you," he would give anything to be able to lean forward and capture your lips in his, but instead he restrained himself and reached for your own gift from him in your pile, wrapped in shiny silver paper with intricate embellishments of flower petals.

You hadn't opened a single gift yet, too entranced in everyone else to take a moment for yourself, but you obliged the man you adored so much and ripped open the paper that encased a long box.

Opening it, your eyes widened as you took in the blade in your fingers, an exact match to Truthteller but with a hilt of diamonds and beautifully forged embellishments, "I realised that you didn't have your own, I hope you never have to use it but just thought you'd like one," your stunned silence made him fidget with his fingers and he watched you carefully pick the blade up and turn it in your hands, "Do you like it?"

"I love it," it was beautifully lethal, just like you, "Thank you, Az. Really."

The afternoon continued and you couldn't stop glancing to the open lidded box on the table as you sat nestled under Azriel's wing, sipping from your wine as he opened his last gift, from Nesta, who was busy placing the new hairpins you had gotten her into her staple coronet. Azriel tore open the paper and tilted his head, looking up at the eldest Archeron sister who raised a brow and smirked, "It's a diary, Az. People use them to write down their thoughts and feelings, some people draw in them," you snorted at the condescension in her tone to which Azriel nudged your knee playfully before thanking her and thus wrapping up the present exchange.

It had shaped up to be the most perfect solstice any of you had ever seen.

In the weeks that followed solstice, the snow melted away to give new life to the earth below, and the sun peeked out from the mountains to cascade Velaris in its heavenly glow.

During those weeks, you noticed a subtle change to Azriel, how he would fly away at dusk with his diary secured to his side, to only return an hour or so later seeming lighter and more determined. The subtle changes and the increases of his affection only made you more intrigued to find out exactly what he was writing in that book.

He had caught you far too many times tiptoeing into his bedroom, curtly telling you with a smirk that the diary was nowhere to be seen before pecking your forehead and sending you on your way.

Azriel had been much more attentive since solstice, he rarely took off the bracelet that you gave him, and you liked to think that the glow of your soul coaxed him into sleep, a thing you knew he struggled with often. Even Rhys had told you that Azriel had left his door open one night, only slightly ajar, but enough to Rhys to see him reaching to the ceiling and looking longingly at the pendent which contained your essence atop his pulse.

It was frustrating for your family to see it, to see your mutual pining but watch the other be clueless to it. Azriel had brought you flowers, brought back trinkets from his travels, he would brush up behind you and allow his shadows to feather across your lower back, he'd even cooked for you, something no one had ever seen before. Then there was you, giving a literal piece of your soul to the male, and even that wasn't enough for Azriel to see how in love with him you were.

"I'm calling it," Cassian panted as he rested on the stone pillar of the training ring beside Nesta, watching Azriel jog to catch up with your retreating form and his shadows drawling over your shoulder, "They're mates. They have to be."

"You're too late to that bet," Nesta quipped, wrapping her mate's hands up tighter in the leather straps, "We've all put money in, we bet on how long it would take for them to realise and for the bond to snap."

"And you didn't tell me?!"

Nesta scowled playfully, "You'd cheat," she prodded his armoured chest with her finger, "It has to be natural. They deserve that much."

Weeks ticked by and the group were getting restless, even Nesta, who was stubborn to let the pining play out, was getting annoyed.

Nesta knew exactly what Azriel wrote about in his diary each day, he wrote of you, she had caught a glimpse of a passage when he had stupidly left his diary in the library one night and he had sworn her to secrecy since then, but also sought her out to speak about you, about what he should do.

And Nesta no longer saw a problem in nudging him in the right direction.

"Is she still sniffing around your diary?" Nesta had asked, they were splayed across the seating area in the River House whilst you and Mor had disappeared to Rita's for the evening.

Your essence glowed on his wrist, he heard the whispers of your voice emit from it and sighed with a faint smile on his lips, "Everyday," he told her, looking upward at the ceiling and wondering what you were doing in that moment, "She's too good for me, Nes."

Humming in disagreement, Nesta sat up and craned her neck to look at her friend who was clearly thinking of the woman dancing the night away in the centre of Velaris, "Azriel," she deadpanned, "Y/N gave you a piece of her soul so that she would always be with you. Show her what you wrote. I assure you it can only go in the way you want it to."

Hint? No. Spelling it out for the dumb Illyrian? Yes.

Realisation hit him and he bolted upright, he gathered his diary in his fingers and raced upstairs, stumbling past a confused Cassian who stared after his brother before turning to his mate, mouth full of one of the cupcakes you and Elain had baked that morning with wide eyes and a accusatory tone muffling his words, "You cheated!" Crumbs flew from his mouth and Nesta flipped him off.

"You know the money is ours right?"

Cassian flopped down beside her with a grin, "I knew there was a reason why I loved you."

Painful throbs growled at the balls of your feet as you walked up the path to the house with your heels stabbing at your thigh. Intoxication hadn't found you but you still had an amazing time dancing the hours away with Mor and Feyre, giggling and talking about men until you were all talked and danced out.

Golden firelight greeted you, and your dreary eyes scanned the room to find Azriel sat before the fire but turned toward the door where you stood in a floor length black dress, with two long slits that kissed your mid thigh and a plunging neckline held up by two thin ropes.

Azriel's hair was tousled, his hazel eyes were warm pools that beckoned you to dive in, his skin was golden and glowing in the light, and he sat there with a look of wonderment that you had never seen before.

"Az? Are you alright?" You closed the door behind you and made you way over to him, noticing his neck crane to keep his focus on your face as you approached him.

Azriel had pulled the table toward him and a familiar black leather bound book lay open on the table in front of him, "Come here," his voice was low but soft, pleading but not commanding, he patted the space beside him and you sank down into it, "I wanted to show you something. I know I've been hiding this from you, but I want you to see it now."

The book was soon in your hands, and closed, the thing you had been after for so long, "Are you sure?" The idea of his diary in your hands felt wrong, like a delicious invasion of privacy.

"More sure than I've ever been," he nodded downward, giving you the permission you needed to open it.

The pages were filled with words and charcoal sketched, and you took a moment to flick through the filling book before you focused on certain pages.

Bright eyes, unbound hair, and a toothy smile greeted you over a two page spread, your eyes followed the curves of black, and you gasped when you noticed what, or who, you were looking at. It was you. Azriel had drawn you on the pages of the diary Nesta had gifted him. In the time he had disappeared at dusk to be alone with his thoughts, he had chosen to let them wander to you.

You looked to him and noted how he had shuffled closer to you, the warmth of wing draping over your smaller form and his shadows dancing across your shoulders.

"I think in a way this diary is for you," he urged you to carry on, watching carefully as you flipped through to the beginning and scanning the words he had littered on the pages.

To anyone else, they were just a bunch of randomly littered words across the page, a waterfall of sayings and phrases that had come from your lips. Words and phrases that you said often enough for Azriel to take the time to write them down.

On the next page was two lists, one of the things you loved and another of the things you hated with small scribbled beside certain ones depicting when exactly Azriel had noticed.

Flicking through, it dawned on you that the entire diary was full of you, your jokes and mannerisms, the things that made you laugh, passages of your favourite poetry, drawings of you.

"Az, I-"

"Keep going."

So you did, you kept flipping the pages, allowing your fingers to graze against his written word as you read through his thoughts until you reached one page in particular.

Y/N,

I may never have the courage to tell you how I feel, and maybe writing it down will give me the courage to let you finally see what I have been hiding.

I tried to remember the day when everything in my life began to make sense. I went so long feeling lost and alone, of feeling destined to a life of solitude, and then you happened. You brought a joy to my life, to all of our lives, that we didn't know we were missing. I don't think you realise just how amazing you are.

I am in love with you, Y/N.

When you're around I know everything is going to be alright, and when I'm away, all I think about is you. I look at that damn bracelet all of the time, hoping that it was just some thoughtful gift, but a sign of something more. You are fluent in me, you speak my language in ways that even I cannot, and I can't walk this earth without you by my side. I refuse.

I may not tell you everyday that you mean the world to me but you do. The day you entered my life, even when you were petrified, you changed my life into something so beautiful and meaningful, you make me feel seen. I may not be the first man in your life but I intend to be the last, I intend to be the only one who can make you feel loved to your core.

There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. I will love you in your weakest moments and brightest of days, I will love you when you don't love yourself, I will love you even when you don't want me to, I will love you until the earth swallows me and even then I will follow you to the next life. There is nothing on this earth that can take me from you, not even death can force us apart.

Between universes, oceans and moons, I am so lucky that I got to step onto the same land and dream under the same stars as you; and I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of any reality, I would find you and I would choose you.

I love you, Y/N. I'll write it and say it as many times as you need me to, whether that be verbal or not, in whatever way you need me to say it, I will.

You have me, until the last star in the galaxy perishes, you have me.

You didn't realise that you were crying until you saw your tears splatter onto the page. In an instant, Azriel was cupping your face in the hands that only you found comfort in, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks as he felt your longing and love flow through him.

Felt your longing and love flow through him.

Azriel tensed, his eyes went wild and wide as he searched your soul for a sign for anything to confirm what he had just felt pang in his chest. The pressure was building and his actions confused you, he was panting, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm.

You reached for him, resting your fingers over his heart and feeling the world flip on its axis at the singular contact, energy exploded around your forms, white oceanic waves rippling with intertwining shadow, shrouded in a golden shimmer.

The sight was beautiful, so beautiful that it stole your attention and you watched as your essences danced with one another, and his shadows rallied to join in the celebration. Azriel's breath was warm against your cheek and you tore your gaze away from the display above your heads to meet his tearful eyes.

"We're mates," his voice was soft, so gentle, and he ran his fingers down the side of your face, sighing with a smile when you nodded.

"Nesta is going to be thrilled that she won the bet."

Azriel threw his head back and laughed, tears of pure happiness spilling from the corners of his eyes as he fell back to your level, "Bet?"

"They all betted on how long it would take us to realise that we love each other. They thought I didn't know."

"Beautiful smart creature," Azriel purred to you and you felt a blush creep to your cheeks, a blush that was soothed by his shadows curling over it, he slowly closed the gap between you, his lips hovering just before your own. "How rude of us to keep them waiting."

Azriel noticed your line of sight flicker between his eyes and downward at his lips, "Extremely," you breathed and Azriel wasted no time in pulling your face toward him and connecting your lips in something that could only be described as universe shifting, like the entire galaxy was holding a collective breath and watching you fall into one another.

There was a hunger behind it as his tongue danced with your own, you felt those golden threads snap into place, you heard the string connecting your souls hum in appreciation and yearning for what was no doubt going to occur behind closed doors.

Just as Azriel was about to scoop you into his arms and take you somewhere more private, a shuffle of feet and a groan sounded by the stairs.

Pulling apart, you saw Cassian stood there with giddy eyes, "GUYS! NESTA WON!"

The house and its inhabitants collectively snarled, "FUCK!" Rhys cursed from somewhere upstairs followed by Nesta's victorious chuckle whilst Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at you both, you buried your head into Azriel's chest to contain your red cheeks.

Azriel shrouded you with his wings, forcing you to look up at him, "Let's get out of here? I'd like a night alone with my mate."

"Say it again."

"Mate," he kissed you, "My perfect, incredible mate," he mumbled onto your lips with a smirk, cradling you to his chest and growling at Cassian for whatever crude remark he had made before soaring into the sky with you pressed to his chest with plans to make you his over and over again.

Authors Note

Got a little carried away but this has given me life x

I'm drafting the next parts to some of my series tonight for tomorrow, what do we want prioritised? New Pages? A Fate Inked In Starlight? Can't Keep My Hands To Myself? When I Kissed The Teacher?

Let me know x

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thehighladywrites · 22 days

Text

— “You were flirting with me?”

pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

summary: You leave Azriel mid-makeout to debrief with your girls

warnings: suggestiveness, the ic being nosey, miscommunication, rhys and cassian knowingly riling az up, the girls get drunk and interrogate reader, the boys get drunk and interrogate az,

amara’s note: this might be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. also sorry for my absence i’m posting more soon💗💗

You’ve had a massive crush on Azriel since the day you met him. He didn’t really notice you and was somewhat nice to you.

Really, you had no idea how you started crushing on him, I mean he paid you no special attention or anything. Maybe it was because he was quiet, handsome, tall, dark, mysterious and only spoke when it was necessary. He also cracked jokes and flashed grins that made your heart flutter. The Mother knows how much it grated your nerves whenever a male tried to hit or talk to you when you clearly had no desire to.

Azriel was the complete opposite and you started worrying that you were the one who grated on his nerves everytime you tried speaking to him.

“Hi Azriel, how are you doing?” you noticed him sitting at the dining table, collected yourself and asked him.

“Good,” he said staring straight into your soul before he realized his answer wasn’t really socially appropriate so asked you, “How are you?”

You just smiled awkwardly and nodded, “I’m fine, thanks.”

And that was how 90% of your conversations went. There was no further comments or extra questions and fuck if it wasn’t awkward. You really wanted to get to know him but you also knew how impossible it was since even the people he had been friends with for half a millennium often considered him a mystery.

Sensing the weird energy in the room, you just swiftly said goodbye, not bothering to stay to hear his goodbye.

He wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to do something, perhaps eat brunch at the restaurant you talked about to Cassian but you were moving before he had the chance. Azriel got extremely annoyed with himself, wondering why the hell he couldn’t ask you out like a normal person.

With determination, he promised himself to try the next time.

—

The girls all knew about your very obvious crush on Azriel and encouraged you to approach him often. They were all mated and happy and you wish it was you, you that had a mate, you who got loved and kissed and hugged and fucked.

But you just had to be obsessed with a man that paid you no attention… Maybe that’s why you wanted him, you viewed him as a challenge, and you loved challenges. Despite wanting his attention and wanting to get to know him, you still had self-respect and didn’t act like a pathetic, desperate, love-sick puppy infront of him.

So you went from always greeting him and smiling at him, trying to initiate conversations to flat out ignoring him. I mean, he never talked to you first so maybe it was time to accept it and just admire him from afar.

—

Azriel began to sense a dullness in his days, a void he couldn't really pinpoint. He realized he hadn’t talked to you, or rather, you hadn't talked to him while he played it cool, trying not to make his beating heart obvious. He noticed the absence of your chatter, questions and lovely voice, realizing that his days grew more mundane and boring without someone asking about his shadows, what his plans were, where he got Truth-Teller.

Azriel observed during dinner that you didn't glance at him once; your attention was solely on the girls or his brothers. You chose to stand up, walk across the dining room and grab the bowl of potatoes beside him instead of asking him for it, and it really irked him. Was he not worthy of passing a simple bowl of fucking potatoes?

He wondered if he had done something to make you avoid talking to him. Despite not being the most talkative person, he paid very close attention to everything you said, even if it seemed unnoticed. Azriel loved your presence and he thought he made his interest in you very clear when he looked at you.

Cassian had said girls like eye contact, still everytime he stared into your soul, you only looked weirded out. Was he doing it wrong? Maybe he wasn’t keeping eye contact long enough.

He had grown extremely fond of your talking and felt empty without it. Finding you alone in the kitchen while you prepared a quick breakfast, Azriel decided it was time to talk. The others had already headed to the training grounds as you had slept in. You were cooking your breakfast, not noticing Azriel.

“Hey.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as you slowly looked up at him. Was he really talking to you? But why?

“Yeah?”

He stayed quiet for a bit, just staring at you in that weird way he always did. Even though he wasn't sure if you liked him back and was afraid of rejection, he still wanted to talk to you.

“How have you been?”

You fight the urge to furrow your brows in confusion. Since when the hell did Azriel care? You were truly baffled and tried to act normal.

“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”

Azriel didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

Usually, you'd spontaneously share every detail of your morning routine, even without him asking. He fucking loved to listen as you talked about your broken hairbrush, the struggle of choosing clothes, the snug fit of your leathers due to gained muscles, and the morning hassle with your hair, prompting you to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual.

“I’m okay. Have you done anything else today? How is your hairbrush?”

A stupid question really, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see that familiar spark in your eyes as you talked about anything and everything. No way would he ever forgive himself if he ruined something between you.

Your face heated at the fact that he remembered such a minuscule detail about something you said weeks ago.

”Oh, the hairbrush? It broke so I got an enchanted one. Heard it's like a hair miracle, tried it, and it really worked. By the way, your hair looks good. Did you cut it lately?”

Azriel couldn't help but warm up at your rambling. His eyes widened at first, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The deep, rich sound was familiar, yet it never failed to feel like the first time. It was a beautiful and joyful melody that always managed to make you melt on the inside.

"I really missed you," he admitted, feeling your heart pound in your chest, unable to meet his gaze.

"You did?" Azriel's soft smile warmed your heart, the one you'd nearly missed.

"I did. I enjoy being around you and hearing your voice," he confessed.

"Oh, I always thought you didn’t." You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and relief.

Stepping closer, Azriel's presence loomed over you, his hand gently lifting your chin.

“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry that my silence ever gave you that impression. I thought I was making my interest clear, to be honest,” he murmured, sincerity gleaming in his hazel eyes.

“Okay, I promise I won’t misunderstand again. But why did you think you made yourself clear?” you whispered, feeling a rush of energy as you locked eyes with him.

“Because I made a point of holding prolonged eye contact, thinking it was a clear signal of my interest,” he explained matter-of-factly.

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. “So, all those times you were staring at me, you were actually flirting?”

Azriel's expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yes. I thought you knew.”

Suppressing a giggle, you bit your lip and glanced away, not wanting to offend him.

“Ah, not exactly crystal clear, but I understand now. Let’s go for a walk and chat some more,” you suggested, linking your arm through his.

"Sounds perfect. Now, tell me about those new leathers you got," he said, his playful demeanor easing the tension, steering the conversation towards lighter topics.

—

Over the next few months, the bond between you and Azriel deepened. He trusted you with secrets of his life that remained hidden from everyone else. These private conversations became the pillars of your connection, sweet moments for you only.

As the months went by, an unspoken desire for more lingered between you and Azriel. Yet, despite the magnetic pull, something kept you from going the final step.

You've had countless close moments where you almost kissed, where just a tip-toe closer would have sealed the deal. But it never happened. So close, yet so frustratingly far away.

—

Mor's question disrupted the laughter and gossiping of the girls' night, the clinking of wine glasses punctuating the anticipation in the air.

"Remind me again why you and Azriel aren’t a couple?”

Mor's curiosity hung palpably, shifting the mood from gossiping to an interrogation.

“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you replied, swirling the wine in your glass as you gathered your thoughts.

“We have a great connection, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like there's a boundary we're afraid to cross.”

Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes observing you closely. “Unspoken understanding? Fancy fucking excuse”

Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.

You chuckled, “Maybe it is, but it’s like we're both tiptoeing around something, afraid to ruin what we have. I mean, do I want to be with him? Yeah, I do. But we might fuck something up and I think we have too good of a relationship to throw it all away.”

Nesta leaned back with a smirk, “Sounds like a case of unresolved sexual tension. Maybe the only cure would be to finally get a good dicking.”

You shot her a look, “You make it sound like a medical condition. Also that has got to be some plot from your smutty books.”

Feyre chimed in, “Maybe it is. Maybe it's time you took a bold step to see what happens. Who knows, it might get you laid.”

The group erupted into laughter, but underneath it, you couldn’t ignore the truth in their words. You liked him, there was no denying it. But did he like you as much?

—

“Is she dating anyone?” Rhysand’s casual question caught Azriel off guard as he browsed his big wine selections with Cassian while the girls where out of the house.

Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a knowing look. “Y/N. Is she dating anyone?”

Something about the question irked Azriel. “Why the hell do you care?”

Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious. I might set her up with someone.”

Azriel's jaw clenched as he fought to mask his frustration. Rhysand's casual tone grated on his nerves, igniting a simmering jealousy he hadn't realized he harbored. Suppressing a sigh, he forced himself to respond evenly,

“She's a grown female, Rhys. She doesn't need you playing matchmaker for her.”

Cassian chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. “Easy, Az. No need to get defensive. I think little Y/N might want a lover of her own, no?”

Azriel's gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I'm not being defensive. I just don't appreciate your implication. And no, she doesn’t need some lover.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk bordering on mischief. “Interesting. And why is that?”

Before Azriel could formulate a response, you had returned with the girls, your laughter echoing through the room, shifting the focus away from the questions. Azriel sighed, silently cursing Rhysand's annoying questions and the unresolved feelings stirring within him.

—

You turned off the tap and brought the glass of water to your mouth, much needed after the amounts of wine you and the girls had downed. It was honestly a miracle Mor had the energy to winnow you to the house of wind.

As the girls walked to the library for more drinking, you snuck into the kitchen for some water.

You put down the tall glass of water, swallowing the refreshing and cool drink before your body tingle.

Your stomach flipped, blood heating as your skin broke out in goosebumps.

His presence was undeniable.

Azriel was here.

Turning around to leave the sink, you saw him standing there behind the island, looking at you with a soft look that made your stomach flutter and cheeks heat.

"Hi," Azriel greeted softly as you approached him.

"Hi, Az." you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of him.

"Did you have fun with the girls?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, I did," you answered with a smile as you looked down.

Azriel's lips twitched, and he gently lifted your chin with his pointer and thumb. He looked down at your midnight blue dress and raised his brows

"You look absolutely breathtaking."

Your heart beat faster and faster and you were damn sure your friends upstairs could hear how hard it drummed against your chest.

You leaned into his touch, the move careful and intentional. Azriel’s thumb rubbed against your jaw, your eyes glistening in awe at his handsome self.

”Thank you. It’s nothing special, I just like the color.”

Azriel's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "It's not just the color," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you. You’re beautiful."

A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond to such sincerity. But damn, he looked good, and the alcohol in your system made you feel bold enough to speak your mind.

"You look really good," you said, your voice a little breathless. "This shirt suits you."

Stepping closer, you let your hand rest on his sturdy chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension between you palpable. Slowly, your hand traveled down to the planes of his stomach, each movement filled with anticipation.

As you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, you played with his belt, the air crackling with the electric energy of the moment. His reaction was immediate, his gaze flickering with desire as the tension between you reached its peak.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled. The sudden proximity caught you off guard, making you gasp softly.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with desire. "Let's not do things we can't handle."

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as his proximity sent electric sparks coursing through you. “That sounds like a challenge, Azriel,” you taunted, your voice barely a whisper.

Azriel’s smirk widened, his gaze burning with intensity. “Consider it an invitation.”

You looked at each other, breathing shallowly. Azriel’s intense gaze softened gradually as his eyes traveled further down to your lips. He swallowed, pupils wide with lust.

"May I-"

"Yes."

It was a tender, sweet kiss that caught you off guard in the best way possible. You didn't expect him to be so gentle, but you welcomed it wholeheartedly.

His touch was tender yet reassuring. One hand cradled the back of your head, while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.

You melted into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness. Your hands found their way to his neck, clinging to him as if you never wanted to let go.

Azriel’s shadows swirled around you lazily, one trailing up your calf and causing you to twitch in surprise. Pulling back, you were met with his clouded, lustful eyes. A mixture of concern and confusion cleared up his hazy gaze.

Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, in the kitchen, making out with Azriel—the very male you'd had a crush on for what felt like an eternity. Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, needing a moment to collect yourself.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm, I’m fine, just give me one second,” you managed to stammer out before turning on your heel and practically stumbling out of the kitchen.

With your heart racing and your mind in a whirlwind, you burst into the library where the girls were lounging, each with a glass of wine in hand. Feyre perked up at your arrival, offering a lazy smile.

“There you are, was wondering where you went,” she mused, clearly already feeling the effects of the alcohol.

Without thought, you blurted out the bombshell news. “Guys, Azriel and I kissed.”

The revelation seemed to sober up the entire room, and suddenly, you were bombarded with questions and reactions from your friends.

“Oh my gods, finally,” Mor exclaimed, practically jumping in her seat

“Is he a good kisser? Was it rough or soft? How did he hold you?” Nesta fired off questions, her curiosity piqued.

”All of you owe me 10 cold coins each. I’m always right,” Feyre slumped back in her seat, sipping the wine as she nodded happily.

“I knew you were up to something while we were in here,” Amren chimed in with a knowing smirk.

You grinned widely as you shared all the details with the girls, who were just as excited as you were. They leaned in, eager to hear every bit of the story.

As the questions swirled around you, Elain’s confused expression brought the conversation to a halt.

“Wait, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be kissing right now?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

You froze, the weight of her words sinking in. “Well, yes, we were just... making out, and I had to come here. I panicked.”

In response, your friends practically shoved you back outside, Nesta taking the lead. “And don’t you dare come back until your legs are shaking and you have a big smile on your face,” she declared with a mischievous grin.

You took a deep breath, suppressing your smile as you made your way back to the kitchen. Azriel stood there, leaning against the kitchen island with his feet crossed and arms over his chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice laced with concern.

You softened at his words, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him down slightly, you gave him a loud kiss that ended with an audible "mwah."

"I really couldn't be more comfortable. I love you, Az. Like a whole lot," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Azriel's eyes softened at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I can put into words."

You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at his admission, your heart fluttering with happiness. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine.

Azriel grabbed your hips and slowly backed you into the kitchen island. You yelped when he picked you up and put you on the counter, deeping the kiss.

“Let me take you on a date. I want to do this properly,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

You put your hands on his chest lovingly as you nod, smiling up at him. “I’d love that.”

—

extra scene where rhys and cassian visit azriel in the kitchen:

Azriel stood frozen as you left, his mind going into overdrive, worrying if he had done something wrong. Just as he was about to follow you, Rhys and Cassian popped their heads into the kitchen.

"Yo. Where did she go?" Cassian asked, scanning the empty kitchen.

Azriel furrowed his brows at the pair, or rather their heads.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Go before she comes back," he urged, shooing them away with his hand.

Rhys leaned against the kitchen island, a satisfied grin on his face. "It's about damn time."

Cassian nodded in agreement. "Fuck yeah, took him long enough. But hey, better late than never."

Azriel frowned, feeling the weight of their words. "You guys make it sound like it was some kind of mission."

Rhys chuckled. "In a way, it was. And you finally completed it."

Azriel sighed, "Stop talking like that, you sound fucking ancient.”

Cassian smirked at him, arms over his chest as he said “Y’all kissed?”

Azriel's cheeks flushed slightly at Cassian's question, but he maintained his composure. "Yeah, we did."

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And?"

Azriel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "And it was... nice."

Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. "Nice? Come on, tongue?”

"Yeah, tongue,” he said trying and failing to suppress a smile.

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I knew it, you little freak. What else?”

Azriel's expression turned guarded. “Okay, that's all you dickheads need to know. Now, get the fuck out before she comes back.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up, a finger wagging in Azriel’s face. “You better not fuck in my kitchen, I swear to the Mother, I’ll make you both scrub every inch.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and ushered them out, leaning against the kitchen island, waiting for you.

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florencemtrash · 2 months

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Fifteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: ANGST... that's about the only major warning I can think of

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Jurian and Vassa took the attic and became scarce, but when night and day slid into one another you still heard her painful screams, muffled as they were by the magic that encased their room. It was a feeling more than anything else. A tension that gripped the House until it seemed to be sobbing. At sunrise and sunset without fail, Vassa’s body broke and rearranged itself, flesh turning to feathers and feathers to flesh. Before it had been a painless process where her body came and went in its various forms, but no longer. Now she felt everything alongside an itch deep within her bones that couldn’t be satiated by food or drink or anything else.

Go to the lake! Her body screamed. Go to Koschei! And then punished her when she didn’t comply. Like a beast had sunk its claws into her flesh, its waiting mouth only inches away from snapping. To stay away was a slow, agonizing march to death. To move close would be swift, but final, and somehow Vassa knew that if she gave into Koschei’s call, she would be lost forever.

You lingered at the base of the attic's staircase, your bare feet sinking into the soft rug until the sounds of cracking bones finally ceased. Three pairs of feet shuffled above your head and you heard Jurian’s faint whispers like a gentle push of air. When the door opened and Lucien emerged, you saw Vassa crumpled on the floor, now a bone-thin woman with dull, coppery hair and skin ravaged by scratches and pockmarks.

“Shhhh. It’s ok.” Jurian whispered, encasing her in his arms.

“I can’t,” her voice trembled. “It hurts. I-I-I’m burning.”

“Y/n?” Lucien frowned. The door slammed shut with a bang and you jumped backwards. You clutched a velvet pouch close to your chest and then slowly held it out to Lucien.

“It’s for Vassa,” you explained, trying to keep your eyes on his mismatched ones — one russet as river stones, one gold like the sun. He opened the bag and stared in confusion at the fine, white powder within, giving it a tentative sniff. “Morphine. Humans use it for pain.”

“I know of it.” Lucien’s frown deepened. “They get addicted. Take too much and they die.”

“She’s already addicted. That’s what’s happening isn’t it? Koschei’s drawing his power away to get her to return to the lake and every day that passes she’s dying.” Lucien tightened his fists around the bag, still skeptical. Vassa had endured enough. He didn’t want to have her endure this either. “The bag is enchanted and will never allow her to draw too much. Just enough to calm her hunger. If we’re lucky it might help her sleep too.”

Lucien stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists from around the gold drawstring, waiting for Vassa’s cries to cease. But they never did. And there you were standing in front of him, unwavering and expectant. There was a glimmer of stubbornness in your gaze. A sign of the hours you’d spent researching Vassa’s condition and acquiring the strange human drug, and your disapproval if Lucien didn’t accept it.

“Thank you, Y/n,” he whispered, “But please go. Vassa hates for anyone to see her like this. Even Jurian and I.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, disappearing down the stairs as quickly as you could. The next morning when the sun rose over the mountains and Vassa changed, you heard only the House’s usual breathings.

The House buckled under the weight of the Inner Circle’s secrets and the sheer volume of history that had occurred within its walls and between its occupants. It utilized its magic in clever ways — your door opened with a creak that wasn’t there before so that Azriel would always hear your comings and goings. Lucien would suddenly find his door locked and the curtains drawn on the days when Helion made surprise visits to see Y/n. Nyx would find himself ushered around by a broomstick that swatted his ankles when the adults were discussing private matters. It was all a great deal of work.

So it was a relief when Rhys and Feyre quietly moved their children to the House of Wind with Nesta and Cassian, and when Mor and Emerie took the final steps in emptying their rooms and went to hide out in their city apartment. It was even more of a relief when Helion returned to the Day Court, but not before throwing a heavy threat in Azriel’s face that if he should ever hurt his daughter again in any way, shape, or form, he’d strip the wings off his back.

Meals at the House were tense, quiet affairs, something not even Feyre, Elain, and Nesta’s sisterly conversations or Cassian’s light-hearted humor could ease. Elain stayed close to Lucien’s side, one hand always on his arm or resting against his back or brushing against his, but that didn’t erase what the Blood Duel had done to his trust in Elain. He was kind, but guarded, especially when Azriel was in the room. But it was more than she could ask for because it was more than she’d ever given him in the beginning.

You and Azriel were worse off.

You were speaking once more, but your words were always laced with a bit of apprehension and Azriel’s were always filled with sorrowful hope. Conversations were dull, short, and didn’t even begin to brush the surface of all the things you should have been talking about. You were terrified not of the Shadowsinger, but of his opinion of you. Did he want you so he could fix you? So that he could feel needed? So that you could be another one in a list of females he burned through?

It never truly seemed like that was the case, but you also didn’t trust yourself when it came to your emotions. You had told him once that you couldn’t imagine having a love like Feyre and Rhysand’s, or Nesta and Cassian’s, and you still meant it. You were a matchstick and he was flint, and you didn’t know what would happen to you after he had lit you aflame. For all you knew, you were already burning and this wonderful thing you’d had with Azriel would live and die with nothing more than the memory of an embrace in Rhysand’s office to show for it.

But oh how you ached to touch him again. To hold him like you had before and to have him return the gesture just as strongly.

You stiffened when Azriel’s hand brushed your arm, warmth bursting out from the point of contact.

“I’m sorry.” Azriel whispered, and he was talking about more than the wine he spilled when he reached over the table.

You spared him a glance, the first real look you’d given him in two weeks. The flagon slipped from his hands, and if it weren’t for his shadows catching it an inch above the floor, the room would have been doused in burgundy red.

“Does Lucien know?”

Rhysand looked up from his papers. Missives from the Darkbringer army and Illyrian troops up north clogged his desk, all begrudgingly accepting his orders to prepare for what could amount to another lengthy war. Letters thrown back and forth between the seven courts added to the chaos, all of them war-weary and desperate for a path that wouldn’t lead to bloodshed.

You took up the center of his room and stood so quietly he hadn’t even noticed you until you spoke. It had been eating away at you for days since Lucien’s arrival. Every time you two saw one another or spoke, you tried to scrounge for clues that would reveal whether he knew he was Helion’s son and whether he might suspect you were Helion’s daughter as well. The other members of the Inner Circle had been tight-lipped about that secret, a skill you now knew they all possessed with alarming dexterity.

“Does Lucien know he’s Helion’s son?”

Rhysand slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temples with one careful hand. Finally he said, “Yes.”

The answer knocked the breath from your lungs. You’d been expecting the opposite. “Does he… does he know about me?”

Rhys sighed and shook his head. You didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

“How long has he known?”

“Six years. Feyre was the one to tell him. She was actually the first of us to recognize the similarity, believe it or not. But then, no one ever dared to give weight to the rumors surrounding Helion and Aurelia Vanserra while Beron was alive.”

You rocked back and forth on your feet, breath shaking as it entered your body. “Six years. Six years and you never thought to tell Helion that he has a son? I thought you two were friends?”

Rhysand tensed. “I’m Lucien’s friend as well and he begged us to never speak of it - to live as though we’d never learned that secret. And I keep my secrets. We all do.”

“You and your family have made that very clear in the time that I’ve been here.”

“If you mean Azriel—”

“Don’t play dumb, Rhys, you know I’m talking about him.” Tears pricked at your eyes, adding to the humiliation that had coated you like a film ever since you’d seen his memories about Mor, Elain, and Gwyn. “I don’t—” You swallowed thickly, “I can imagine how you must have all been whispering behind my back about Azriel and I. How you must have found it so pathetic the way he charmed me when I was really his fourth choice.”

“That’s not true.” Was what Rhysand was going to say. But he didn’t need to. Azriel said it for him.

Your face lost all color, any bravado melting away at the feeling of Azriel’s shadows wrapping around your ankles like ribbons of silk. You could feel him in the room and that quiet darkness he carried around with him as inherently as if it were stitched onto his body.

Azriel was shaking. Shaking. With anger, turmoil, or grief — you couldn’t name it. All you knew is that one moment you were standing in Rhysand’s office, all velvet upholstery and suave, expensive taste, and the next you were in Azriel’s room.

Everything smelled like mountain air. Maybe it was the gothic windows that stretched into the vaulted ceilings, stained glass opening out onto a personal balcony with deep blue curtains fluttering in the breeze. But you were sure that even with the windows barred it would smell the same. It would smell like Azriel. If you threw open his wardrobe you’d come face to face with a wall of black. Lots and lots of black. Black suits he hardly ever wore. Black fighting leathers. Black leather jackets for everyday. Black trousers. Black boots on the floor. Very practical. Very Azriel.

If you dug through his dresser drawers you’d find black boxers and socks to match and no shortage of knives and daggers hidden behind wooden planks or in leather sleeves nailed to the bottom of his desk. But at first glance you only saw three weapons in plain view — Truth Teller, blade down and stuck in the wood grain of his desk beside a pile of reports, and two obsidian blades hanging from the wall beside his midnight blue bed in the shape of an “x.”

The smell — Azriel’s smell — calmed you, at least up to the point where you turned to find him standing less than six inches away, hazel eyes boring into yours. Then your pulse skyrocketed. You were certain that if he only looked down to your heart he’d see it pounding against your chest like a drum skin ready to burst.

“That’s not true,” he repeated earnestly. “And don’t you dare believe it. Not even for a second.”

His eyes jumped back and forth between yours and before he could stop himself, his hands were grasping yours in a gentle hold. The leather gloves were soft and supple beneath your fingertips. You wanted to rip them off so you could feel his scarred hands again.

“You weren’t meant to hear that,” you whispered, suddenly feeling small. That angry humiliation went up in a puff of smoke and left you shy and uncertain.

Azriel gripped your hands a little tighter and you watched as tendrils of shadow worked their way up your arms and got lost in your hair. “But I did,” he said breathlessly, “And I need you to know that it’s not true.”

“Azriel—”

“I know—” he was shaking his head, “I know what Helion said and I won’t lie and tell you that I’m perfect or that I’ve made any smart decisions about love in the past — I’ve not make a single one — but… but Y/n you’re not a fourth choice. You’re not something broken that I’m trying to fix or some fantasy I’ve fallen for.”

His hands shook and despite the gloves his hands still felt sticky and wet. Slick with your blood. The burning scent of iron in his nose.

“You’re the most real thing in the world to me. You’re—” You’re my mate. The words crawled up his throat like acid and it just felt wrong. He would say those words to you. He would. But not now. Not like this. He came up with something else. “Y/n, please tell me you believe me. Please.”

And there you were. Falling all over again. Burning like a matchstick on fire. The flames slowly eating away at you bit by bit. You wondered what would happen when you finally hit the ground, or when you ran out of length. Would he still hold you like this? Would you still feel real to him?

“How am I meant to know, Azriel?”

You’d always been good at books. You knew the ways in which these stories worked where the themes and plot points had been preordained and written with the purpose of being tied up in a neat package by the final page. People were very different. They were unpredictable and chaotic and they could lie through the skin of their teeth and believe they were telling the truth. And that was the problem wasn’t it? Because you still believed every word that came out of Azriel’s mouth, and his hands still felt like they were keeping you tethered to this earth when sometimes your powers and the memories that came with them made you feel like a whisper on the wind. Weightless and at the mercy of something you couldn’t control.

“You can trust me. You can know for yourself.”

He pressed your hand against his cheek and you wanted to cry at the faint pricks of stubble beneath your skin and the sharp curve of his jaw.

He wanted you to use your power on him. He wanted you to learn all the ways he wanted you. All the ways he loved you.

But you couldn’t do it.

Azriel panicked when you remained silent, staring at him and at his hands like you were frightened. All at once he was back on the streets of Velaris, cobblestones shaving away at the skin of his palms as he dragged his way up to you inch by bloody inch, fighting against a body that was too broken to move.

He couldn’t remember what it felt like when he’d stabbed you through the chest and dropped you on the street. Everything between the moment he saw Andrian’s clear-cut eyes to the moment he saw Rhysand’s horrified gaze was fuzzy and dark. But that made it worse because now in his nightmares he could imagine all the ways he’d hurt you, each version teeming with the same level of horror and possibility as the previous one.

He let you go and hated himself when you stepped back, your hand slipping away.

“I won’t… I won’t hurt you again, Y/n. I swear on my life. I’ll-I’ll make a bargain, I don’t care. I would sooner die than let something like that happen again.”

I don’t know what I’d do with that kind of love. If I’d be able to handle it. It might be too much for me.

“Y/n, please.”

I am not broken. But I am afraid.

You fled from his bedroom.

The air had a bite to it now with winter descending. The snow line on the mountains dipped lower and lower each day, creeping like ivy down a brick wall.

Elain never wore gloves. Not when she was gardening. It was something she and Ione had in common. She liked the feeling of her strong hands, the callouses on her palms and fingers that she’d earned all on her own. She grunted, slamming her shovel into the soil and feeling the microscopic chips of ice give way when she kicked down on the blade. It was too late in the season to be planting tulip bulbs. If she’d been in Velaris she would have done this four weeks ago. But it was alright with her. She knew the value of hard work, and she had enough hope for the future to believe that even though she was late, she’d have something beautiful to call hers come springtime.

“It’s time for that conversation I was telling you about,” she said cryptically, as was her way.

Lucien dropped the final basket beside where Elain now knelt in the dirt, her pale pink dress dirtied and littered with her own handprints. The brown bulbs rolled around like oversized chestnuts, the kind that he’d be roasting over a fire right now if he were still in Autumn Court. Instead he was here, lingering in a Court that had never felt like home. Then again… he’d never felt at home in Autumn, Spring, or the Human Lands either.

He straightened up and wiped his hands clean on his trousers, golden and russet eyes trailing over the River House’s grounds for this mysterious person he was meant to speak to.

There.

The faint swishing of black robes behind a dark green topiary tree. He should have known Elain had been talking about you.

You cracked your knuckles and rehearsed the words you’d scribbled out earlier that day and then set to fire in a maddening loop. You’d been restless with the truth of Lucien’s parentage and you couldn’t believe that the others had held their tongues so readily. As it was, without Azriel’s company to help quiet your mind, you’d dug into this new piece of information like a starving animal and couldn’t let go.

Was this a good time to tell him? Would there ever be a good time to tell him? You had no idea.

Somewhere in the attic, you knew Vassa was itching to take to the skies like the burning comet she was. Every night she shivered in Jurian’s arms, the morphine barely able to take the edge off the humming in her bones, and every morning she let him lock her away in her cage. It was getting worse and worse trying to keep her from succumbing to Koschei’s influence. Even now you thought you could hear her keen cries whistling from the attic like ten thousand arrows launched into the air.

Somewhere else, in a secret, hidden place you knew nothing about, Andrian had finally been imprisoned. Andrian with his bent neck and silver, candy-floss hair and bloody little hands.

You shivered and jumped back five feet when Lucien called your name, kind eyes narrowed in concern. His shirt was loose and open and the sweat on his body rose like mist off his skin. He was his mother’s son first, Helion’s child second, and fire still ran through his veins. The chill did not touch him.

He tipped his head to the side, red hair spilling out from the messy way he’d tied it up and away from his face. A brutal scar ran through his eye like a fissure, starting at the center of his brow before clawing its way down his jaw like a lightning strike frozen in time. But for all the cruelty he’d been dealt with in life, his eyes were gentle, even the mechanical one that whirred and flashed in the sun.

They were even kinder when he looked at you. You with your inquisitive gaze and curious nature, like a stray cat that couldn’t help but linger too long at doorways. One foot inside, one foot ready to run and hide. He’d caught you watching him at dinners, and he’d catch himself staring when you walked around the house with a book in your hand, so utterly absorbed that you would bump against doorways and bang your hips against sharp corners.

“Elain told me about you. Did you know that?”

You blinked in surprise. “What did she say?”

“Elain… Elain doesn’t always speak clearly. Much of what comes out of her mouth can feel eerie or discomforting. But, she told me before we left for the Night Court that I would be happy I came. That I would never regret the things I learned on my trip.” He tilted his head even further, looking more and more like a fox with each turn of his face. “And she mentioned a bird. A bird with ink-tipped wings and eyes like a crow.”

You flexed your fingers, well aware that the tips were smudged with ink, the nails bitten down to the quick.

“Someone clever and cautious who’d been hidden away their whole life and needed to see the sun.”

You felt stripped bare. That strange vulnerability that comes with being summed up in so few words had you feeling airy. Like one sentence could be enough to carry the weight of the three centuries you’d lived and never buckle.

“I know you’re Helion’s son. I recognized it the moment I saw you.”

Lucien stepped back, scarlet brows shooting up into his hair with alarm.

You hesitated, then continued on cautiously. “I recognized it because I would know my father’s face anywhere.”

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

I KNOW IT'S A CLIFFHANGER ENDING BUT I NEEDED TO BREAK EVERYTHING INTO CHAPTERS SOMEWHERE AND I'M GOING TO TRY AND GET CHAPTER 16 UP BY WEDNESDAY SO I DON'T LEAVE Y'ALL HANGING FOR TOO LONG. HAVE MERCY!!!

The good news is that Chapter 16 is already mostly written, I just need to edit it all to make sure things flow smoothly. Also, LUCIEN KNOWS NOW AHHHHHHHHHHHH

Sorry for the Azriel angst... but it's delicious, no?

#the shadowsinger and the inkbird #azriel x reader #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel x reader angst #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #I know the fandom has a toxic shipping culture around Elain/Lucien/Azriel in particular #leave me alone all right #I am going to write the couplings as makes sense because this is a READER X AZRIEL FIC #but also i don't stand for a lot of the Elain slander #smells of sexism to me sorry not sorry just let the girl be #obviously she's not perfect but she doesn't deserve the absurd amount of hate she gets #thanks for coming to my ted talk

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azrielwingspan · 2 months

Text

A 'TEA' PARTY (AZRIEL X READER)

Summary : The prince of Montesere was a heartthrob with his exceptionally good looks and charismatic words. You were raving about him to the girls but Azriel was having none of it.

Warnings : Nooone

A/N: You guys have no idea how EXCITED I was to write this. This is definitely one of my favourites. Enjoy !

"And he said 'I'll make time for you. Always.' I DIED. LITERALLY DEAD DIED." You said waving your hands animatedly.

The girls oohed and aahed while clutching their drinks. Feyre pretended to swoon, Mor was holding a hand to her heart and Elain went starry eyed. Nesta remained stoic but you could see the hint of a smile gathering at the corner of her lips. You would bet a 100 marks that it was straight out of one of her romance books.

"What's going on ?" heads whipped to the door where Gwyn and Emerie stood holding more snacks.

"Just in time! Get over here. You guys are missing out on top secret information." Mor helped them out with the snacks, sharing a shy look with Emerie.

"The Prince of Montesere is what is going on." Nesta said, a sly smirk on her face.

"Ooo..I've heard he's quite the charmer." Gwyn piped in and everyone nodded their heads enthusiastically.

"We think he has a crush on Y/N." Elaine said making a stupid grin crawl onto your face.

"What the fuck? Details PLEASE." Emerie grabbed the bowl of popcorn placing it on her lap to share with Mor.

A rush of joy consumed you as you looked around the room. All the girls were finally taking some well deserved time off and you were glad that you could spend it with each other.

"Okay." leaning forward as you channeled your inner storyteller. "Sooo...let me just start off by saying he looks DIVINE. Dark hair, dark eyes and don't even get me started on his voice...UGH. I think my ovaries might have exploded."

"Wait hold on." Feyre carried a confused look on her face. "Are we talking about the Prince or our shadowsinger?"

Silence engulfed the room.

Someone snorted and the entire room descended into laughter. Your face heated up. From embarrassment or from laughing you weren't sure of.

"She definitely has a type alright." Nesta said setting off a new round of laughter.

"OKAY LISTEN IN MY DEFENSE---" you shouted over the chaos.

"Don't even try." Mor was clutching her stomach, slightly wincing at the pain.

"OKAY SHUSH. Y/N CONTINUE !" Gwyn came to the rescue and you shot her a grateful smile.

"Anyways as I was saying.." you shot a pointed look at the girls daring them to say something. All of them had shit eating grins on their face.

Emerie and Mor had already finished half the popcorn.

"He showed me around the city and took me to all his favorite spots. It was very---"

"Did you make out?" Emerie interrupted and the girls leaned forward their eyes twinkling in anticipation.

You were about to respond but your face had already betrayed you , turning a scarlet red. Elaine and Mor squealed , almost falling off their seats. Feyre had a wide eyed expression on her face, her drink long forgotten.

"You should have STARTED with that, you idiot !" Emerie shouted, an incredulous look on her face.

"OKAY SHUSH. The most important question. How was it?" Gwyn made everyone settle down again as she awaited your answer.

You'd just opened your mouth to respond when Nesta asked "How big?"

Spluttering in shock, you smacked Nesta's arm. "I didn't sleep with him!" You hissed in a whisper. "We just made out. He is a really good kisser. I'll give him that."

"Tell me what this male is bad at. Why aren't you with him already?" Elain asked taking a sip of her tea.

"Honestly, he's too good to be true but.."

"He isn't a certain someone." Feyre finished for you, eyes softening in understanding. You'd never told the girls about your infatuation with Azriel but they knew. Somehow, they just knew.

You didn't bother denying it and just shrugged nonchalantly. A wave of understanding passed through the room. Almost everyone had been in a similar position before. Sometimes your soul craved another's so violently, it made you blind to anyone else.

"Well..it was fun while it lasted." you said breaking the silence.

"For two days." Emerie laughed softly.

"You should tell Az---" Mor was interrupted by the opening of the door. Seven pairs of eyes focused on Azriel as he stood at the door , looking sheepish.

"Look who's hereeee." Feyre said playfully, a blush rising on Azriels cheeks as he bowed his head.

"Rhys wanted me to grab a book." he muttered softly, edging towards the wall and trying to ignore the six pairs of eyes with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes.

You were just utterly mortified. Did he hear everything?

I put up a sound barrier. Wouldn't want the Illyrian babies snooping around. Feyre's voice echoed in your mind.

You shot her a grateful smile which immediately fell as she shot you a wink. Oh no. She was upto something.

"Az, tell Rhys I'll be there as soon as Y/N finishes telling us about her Prince."

Both you and Azriel stiffened, his back still facing you. Emerie dissolved into a fit of laughter that she was trying to hide behind her palm. Nesta's eyes twinkled at the prospect of messing with Azriel.

"I can't believe you're going to be a princess, Y/N !" Elain played along. You swiped a hand across your throat repeatedly, indicating at them to cut it off.

"He basically professed his love to you already. I don't know what you're waiting for." Nesta said looking like she was ready to plan the imaginary wedding if she had to.

Azriels shadows were growing a little agitated, rapidly bouncing off bookshelves trying to find the damned book.

"If he had wings, I'm sure he would have the biggest---" Mor cut off , finishing her sentence by widening her eyes and looking down.

Emerie choked on her tea, making it go up her nose. Mor rapidly hit her on the back trying to help and stop laughing at the same time. In her urgency to move, she'd knocked over the tea pot spilling hot tea over Gwyn's leggings.

Gwyn stumbled out of her seat fanning her hands at her legs like it would help. Elain grabbed the jug of water and threw it on Gwyn's leggings soaking the carpet beneath her. Feyre who had been about to fill a glass with water for Emerie stared at her empty hand where the jug had been.

Nesta watched the entire scene unfold before her eyes with mild interest , sipping on her tea.

You just stared, absolutely and completely horrified by the turn of events.

A tendril of shadow made its way over to you and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes behind your ear. You shivered from the sudden coolness and turned your head towards Azriel.

Wearing a cool mask of indifference, he walked out of the room pretending like nothing ever happened.

A/N: AHHHH, this entire thing made me feel some type of way.

Please take a min to leave a comment and let me know if you liked it as much as I did !!

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clockwork-ashes · 2 months

Text

i think it would be so fun if eris just reluctantly became elain’s friend, like he genuinely likes her but he’s not happy about it

#eris vanserra #elain archeron #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #i just think it would be funny #ive read so many amazing elucien fics #where the elain and eris interactions are such a fun highlight

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berryzxx · 4 months

Note

can i request an Azriel x reader where Elain and Azriel get too close and reader get's jelous so sits on the opposite end of the table and he has to apologise and everything. Thankss

(u dont have to do it )

It's always going to be you

(I've changed abit of it but there's still "apologising and everything") also if u see any mistakes NO YOU DIDN'T. :) xx

Summary: You and Azriel spend less time with each other and soon it seems he spends more time with Elain- apologising and fluff

Azriel x reader

I watched, holding my breath as Elain let out a small laugh at something Azriel said, her hand coming up to rest on his arm. Did she need to do that? No, she probably didn't. But I let it go because she was getting better now. Her smiles were more frequent and if she found my mate funny then fine. I wouldn't be jealous about it.

Another week later and Elain and Azriel were walking the streets of Velaris. I had paused in my tracks to watch them, their heads bent together talking about something important it seemed. It felt like I hadn't gone shopping with Az in so long let alone have a nice conversation that lasted longer than a minute. They seemed comfortable together. Fine. As long as they were both happy there was no reason for me to jump to conclusions.

It was game night and Elain and Azriel had paired up. Yes, they were playing chess against each other but they chose each other and left me on the side lines, merely part of the audience. I wasn't even give a second glance. "Y/n? Aren't you going to play?" Cassian asked from where he was sat on the sofa, one arm around Nesta the other holding a glass of wine.

I shook my head "I'm tired. Maybe next time" I turned to look back at Azriel because like usual I was drawn to him. It seemed he was unaffected by our bond now because he hadn't even looked at me once throughout the entire day. The longer I stared the harder it was to fight back tears. I stood up and mumbled an excuse to leave, Nesta being the only one who listened to my made up excuse. I walked out the house and rubbed my hands together, my feet taking me to the bench I had sat on so many times. Luckily I was smart enough to grab hold of a thick shawl before leaving. The Sidra was as beautiful as always, lights glowing around the area, Fae spilling out of different bars across the street.

I pulled the shawl closer to me and tried to enjoy the sight in front of me rather than my mind going back to things I didn't want to think about.

Where are you?

Y/n? Are you okay? Where are you? Tell me where you are.

Sweetheart please. Are you allright?

Azriel's voice, panicked and full of fear in my mind. The spiteful thing to do would be to ignore him and build a barrier between the both of us but because I was never able to see or hear Azriel worry for so long I replied with

I'm fine

I went home for the night, enjoy yourself

I blocked him out. I didn't want to think about anything right now. I wasn't in the mood to talk to him.

Of course if someone asked if I still loved him I would have replied with a "yes" in a heartbeat. Maybe we just needed space. Or maybe I was being dramatic. It's not as if I had walked in on them kissing or something.

"Fancy seeing you here, y/n" Someone said. I had to blink away my sleepiness and try and find the source of the voice. It was Keller. A friend who I usually had lunch with when I was in town or needed someone to help me translate a piece of text.

I gave him a warm smile, his blonde almost silver hair shining in the street lamps.

"Is there a seat free?" He gestured next to me at the empty bench but before I could answer a loud thud was heard behind me and without having to turn around I could tell who it was. He must have hidden his scent because otherwise I would have known he was coming this way earlier.

"Apologies, but the seats taken. You should get going now" Azriel's voice was tight and full of anger, one wrong answer from Keller would result in things that were too gruesome too think of.

Still, he hesitated, looking between me and Azriel who was behind me and probably sending daggers at him.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice night" I gave him an awkward smile, trying to reassure him.

"Right. Enjoy your time." And with a nod "Shadowsinger" He walked away soon disappearing behind a corner. I didn't bother turning around and instead waited for Azriel to show himself. His footsteps were light as his form came into view, blocking the scene of the Sidra. He stood there for a good minute or so evaluating every inch of me with his piercing eyes. His shadows moved away from him, coming to brush against me as if they were checking if I was ok as well.

"Are you all right? Your not hurt are you?" His voice was soft, a great contrast to the tone he was using with Keller a second ago.

I sighed "Physically, yes"

He took this as a chance to sit down next to me, making sure there was a small distance between us. As if he wasn't sure what I wanted. I wasn't sure either. I wanted space but I also wanted him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything would be alright.

"I didn't know what happened to you. I thought you had been taken. I thought I wouldn't see you again" Azriel's voice was quiet and almost broken in a way. I turned to look at him, to see if he was the same Azriel as a few weeks ago.

"What's happened to us?" I asked. I didn't know either but there was one thing I knew and that was something had changed.

As soon as the words escaped me, Azriel froze. His breathing coming to a stop and his eyes focused completely on me and my breathing. For the first time in my life I heard him stumble over his words "what...what do you mean?" He asked, his voice so quiet and full of worry. His shadows paused their constant movement around me and froze as well, their touch now cold.

I wrapped my arms around me, the shawl suddenly not doing much to block the cold out properly "Don't you feel as if we've grown apart? Like...maybe we aren't as close as we used to be?"

I couldn't look at him while saying that. Instead I let my head fall back so I could look at the comforting sight of the stars. Something that was always there. I felt a slight shift to my right where Azriel moved closer to me, his wings coming to wrap around me.

I looked at him, opening my mouth to thank him for the warmth but before I could say anything his shaky voice interrupted me "I love you. I will always love you. I am so sorry you felt as if I wasn't giving you enough time. I know you deserve more than I could ever-"

I put my hand up to stop him "It's not about that. It's about you always being with Elain. Tell me, Azriel. How long has it been since we've been shopping together? How long has it been since you've come home when I'm not asleep because it's the middle of the night? How long will this go on? This back and forth of me waiting for you while you go off with Elain doing who knows what"

I felt his heart beat increase with every word I said and as I let it all out I felt full of guilt. I was being irrational and dramatic. And Azriel didn't deserve it. We had been through so much and I was complaining about him not spending time with me

"sorry. I didn't mean that. I just...got carried away" I looked away from him. He looked heartbroken and I had done that to him.

A silent minute passed before Azriel broke it by picking me up and winnowing us to his room

"what? what are you doing?" I asked, disoriented from the winnowing. I sat on his bed, trying to get used to the soft lighting in his room.

He sat next to me and held my hands in his, warmth seeping through me "I could never cheat on you, sweetheart. I'd rather shred my wings than hurt you. You understand that...don't you? There is nothing between me and Elain and there never will be. I'm sorry you felt that way" He pressed a kiss to my hand, his eyes golden in the light. The way he looked at me made me think, how could I have doubted him?

"I know you aren't cheating. Of course I know that but why does it feel like you spend more time with her than me?" I ask quietly, afraid of the answer. Maybe it's because I've become boring now after all these years.

"My love, your the one who told me to help her. You told me spend time with her because she seemed to like my company. I did it for you, sweetheart. Don't you think I'd rather spend my time with my beautiful mate?"

His hand moved up to cup my cheek, brushing away a tear that had escaped. "It's always going to be you."

I leaned into his comforting warmth and let my doubts and fears wash away. "I'm sorry for doubting you, Az"

"you had every right to" He mumbled back, his arms now encircling me completely. I felt safe and wanted in his arms, like nothing could ever go wrong.

(KEEP IN MIND I LOVE ELAIN EVERYONE. my personal opinion is she should end up with lucien)- as usual not proof read

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shadowdaddies · 5 months

Text

Here's my ACOTAR masterlist! I'll keep my posts linked here. 🩶

✨= fluff

❤️‍🔥= smut

💧= angst

💥 = action (ka-pow!)

Azriel

Cassian

Rhys

Eris

Lucien

Helion

Feyre

Nesta

Elain

Mor

Tarquin

Amren

Poly Fics

the beautiful dividers on my blog are by saradika-graphics

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Note

Hello! ☺️ Can I request for reader x Azriel? Where reader never had a partner because she firmly believed that her love is for her mate and her mate only. They are mates and the bond snapped immediately for reader when they first met but it didn't for Az. So for centuries reader kept on confessing her love for Az while watching him date countless women and kept on pushing reader's feelings aside. Reader slowly fell into an abysmal darkness where she constantly saw everyone had a partner for them and reader is all alone. Az, after all these years, finally felt that someone was wrong with reader and she's not her usual self anymore so he went to check on her and boom the bond snapped for him then and there. Angst here, there, everywhere please 🥺 TYSM 💖

I fell for you.

Azriel x f!Reader.

Masterlist.

Warnings; angst

She was dead. The female you used to be was dead, love burned her and her mate blew the ashes away. The empty cell you had become went unnoticed by anyone, and how could they notice when they all had their mates and were starting their own families. Everything started 200 years ago when you were offered a place in the inner circle as a healer, you were a cheerful young female raised in a preservative family. Ever since you could understand how the mating bond worked you dreamed about meeting your mate, falling in love and creating a family. That was the reason why you never took any male in your bed, you wanted your first time to be with your mate. Everyone kept saying that they forgot all the times they had laid with someone after laying with their mates so why should you bother to do it? And then you met the inner circle and the shadowsinger of the night court -your mate. The moment your eyes fell on him the bond snapped, but it didn’t snap for him too. You tried to approach him and you managed to become friends with him, but soon regretted it. Being his friend meant him talking to you about the females he met, talking about the feelings he had towards them and telling you about their dates. That was until one day… the day you snapped and told him about your feelings, and even though you believed he could love you too, he didn’t. He just became distant and kept pursuing other females. You could handle that, deep down you hoped everything would change and Azriel would love you one day, so you managed to handle the whole situation… until the past year, when the Archeron sisters burst into your life and changed everything. Rhysand was with Feyre, Cassian with Nesta and Azriel was courting Elain. Mor found Emerie and Amren had Varian… and you? You were completely alone. You stopped eating, stopped smiling, stopped talking and most importantly you stopped trying. You hadn’t even been to training with Cassian for months and he didn’t notice because he was training Nesta. So yeah it’s safe to say that you became an empty cell.

You were currently hanging with your friends in the river house, Rhysand had something to announce so he invited all of you there. You were sitting on the floor next to the fireplace, Mor was sitting next to you with Emerie. Rhysand was on the armchair to your other side with Feyre on his lap. Amren and Varian were sitting on the sofa -Amren’s legs on Varian’s lap. Cassian and Nesta were on the other armchair, and Azriel was sitting on the floor in front of them with Elain between his legs. You were on the verge of tears, seeing them all together brought so much pain to you.

Mor was telling a funny story about one of her missions making everyone burst into laughter -everyone except you. You just stared. Azriel seemed to notice this and sent you a questioning look, you just snorted excused yourself and left the room.

You found one of the guest rooms and walked inside, sitting on the bed and getting lost in your thoughts. Azriel walked in a few minutes later.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You didn’t have time to reply because when you lifted your head and he saw your tears he gasped and his hand went to his chest, clenching his shirt.

“You’re my mate” he whispered. You only nodded.

“You knew?” He asked

“Yes” you croaked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He was hurt.

“Because I wanted you to love me for being me not for being your mate.” You replied. It was true, you knew how obsessed Azriel was about finding his mate and you didn’t want to be with him because of a bond. You wanted him to love you for being yourself not his mate. And let’s face it you were obsessed with finding your mate too, but you didn’t fall for him because of that. You fell in love with him because he was soft and caring. You fell in love with him because he brought light into your life, because despite all the shadows around him he was brighter than the sun, his smile could light up every corner of Velaris. You fell for his intoxicating scent and for that deep raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. And let’s not get started about those hazel eyes, those eyes held all the stars of the world inside them.

“You know I love you” he replied.

“As a friend” you added and he sighed.

“Yes as a friend but that means nothing, you are my mate I can fall for you. That’s how it is meant to be”

“Well that’s not how it was meant to be for me” your tone was harsh and your face cold.

“Y/n don’t do this, we can work this out… let me try” he pleaded.

“No, I think I’m done here”

“What do you mean by that?” He teared up.

“I mean that I won’t spend the rest of my life wondering if my mate really loves me”

“No that’s unfair. You knew we were mates… and you didn’t say anything it’s unfair” his voice was breaking.

“Yeah I knew from the moment I saw you… but I didn’t fall for you because of that…” you whispered.

“You knew though before you fell for me you knew, so give me a chance… please.” He cried.

“I’m sorry Az… I can’t do this anymore.” You got up and headed for the door, Azriel stood in front of you.

“Please angel… one chance… I will do anything in my power to make it worth it.” He sobbed.

You were crying too. Could you live a life where you would never be sure of your mate’s love for you? Was the mating bond enough for a happy life? Could you create a family based on the bond?

“I’m sorry…” you whispered and pushed him to the side. He didn’t follow you, you heard him breaking down and screaming as you left the house

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

With a last glance at Velaris you picked up your bags and left… tears streaming down your face as you whispered “goodbye”.

Goodbye to your home… goodbye to your friends and goodbye to the female that died there, your old self. And as you glanced at the road in front of you… you whispered “hello” to the new female you became.

Hope you enjoy it! If you don’t like the ending and you want an alternative one please tell me!

Requests are open but delayed!

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stormhearty · 22 days

Text

✨ pairings: Lucien x Reader, Elucien

🔮 preview: Hanahaki Disease definition: “If your love is not getting returned, flowers start growing inside your body, suffocating you from the inside. Surgical removal is dangerous and you're dying without your soulmate's love.”

📣 trigger warnings: pining, unacquainted romance, vomiting, mentions of blood, ambiguous ending

🔎 rating: PG-13 | 🔏 word count: 4.5k

💜 masterlist + notes: I am the Queen of Angst, as per @prythianpages… another one for the books. I loved Lucien, I loved him since ACOTAR. And so, it is time… to give him some angst to his already angsty story. I do hope you guys enjoy it!

“Lucien —-”

You gasped his name, struggling against the bonds that bound your hands behind your back, your knees ached against the stone ground. Tears lined your eyes, watching Lucien leave your side, tugging the turned middle Archeron sister into his arms, her wet form shivering from being drowned into the cauldron moments earlier.

The world around you slowed and all you could focus on was how Lucien held the sister so tenderly in his arms. For a moment, his back stiffened, and looked over his shoulder — back at you. Your eyes connected and all you felt was a burst in your chest — one that glowed but also one that was slowly suffocating you.

A mating bond.

Another gasp escaped your lips, head bowing as you pressed your forehead against the cool stone underneath your body. Your chest heaved, gasping as your back arched — your throat burned, your chest ached, you felt as if your lungs were on fire. You felt like you were burning from the inside out. Tilting your head up, you hoped that Lucien’s gaze was still on you, that he would abandon the Archeron sister and return to your side — you had hoped that the mating bond snapped for him as well; however, that wasn’t the case.

The eldest Archeron sister snatched the younger back into her arms, pushing Lucien away, him stumbling back from the strength. You watched as Lucien and the middle sister’s gaze intertwined, and even from your position, you could hear the disbelief in his tone.

“You’re my mate.”

The world tilted in front of you, and chaos ensued. You didn’t care whether Tamlin had broken out of his bonds and stalked towards Feyre. You didn’t care that Feyre was begging Tamlin to break the bond between her and Rhysand. You didn’t care that the Hybern King had caused all this madness — just for the Cauldron.

You just didn’t care.

Because all you cared about was the fact that Lucien had felt the bond with the middle Archeron sister — the beautiful Cauldron-Made fae — and not you.

Your world blurred behind your eyes, and you didn’t even realize that Mor was winnowing everyone of the Inner Circle away — the ward had been broken, and everyone was escaping. You watched as she ripped the Archeron sister from Lucien’s grasp, the male roaring at the loss of his mate. He clawed and grasped the ground where she had laid. You wanted to call out to him, tell him that you were still there — that he had another mate. But your voice died in your throat, and you barely could even let out a whisper of his name. Your throat burned, and you felt your lungs constrict and you couldn’t get any air in your lungs.

Pressing your hand against your throat, you wheezed.

You couldn’t breathe.

Panic set into your features as you clawed the palms of your hands, blood dripping down onto the ground. Arms gathered around you, tugging the bonds away from your wrist as you looked up, “—-Mor…” you choked out, grasping her upper arms as you struggled to get to your feet. You focused on her, and not the fact that your body was slowly being deprived of air.

She pressed her lips on the crown of your head, soothing you, as if she knew exactly what had happened between you and Lucien, “Hold on tight, (Y/N), we’re going home… You’re going to be okay…”

Wrapping your arms around her shoulders, you glanced at Lucien, watching him snap his head back towards you as if feeling that you were going to be taken away from him as well. Your eyes locked with his and you felt tears cascade down your cheeks.

“(Y/N)—-…!”

Your name slipped from his lips and all you saw before you were taken in swirls of light and darkness, was his hand reaching out to you.

“(Y/N)…”

You held up a hand, stopping a worried Feyre from coming to your aid. Eyes locked with hers and all you could do was shake your head, a silent plead not to draw any attention. A moment of silence passed before your gaze drifted up those familiar marble steps, the scent of your mate lingering in the air.

Lucien had just stopped by the River House and passed you — heading up those stairs… into Elain’s room.

You held your breath, awaiting the moment when the pain would slam into your body.

Burst!

A painful gasp escaped your lips as you grasped your chest, feeling the burst of flowers invading your lungs. It had taken your breath away so strongly that you stumbled backward, pressing your back against the marble column, chest heaving as you tried to gain any ounce of air into your flower-filled lungs.

Tears stung your eyes as the pain wracked your body, teeth biting into pink-stained lips, fighting back a painful cry that threatened to leave your throat. You couldn’t make noise… not when Lucien was oh-so-close to hearing it.

Just the thought of the male caused another surge of pain, feeling your organs being pushed around inside your body to make way for more of those deadly flowers to occupy your being.

It hurt so much.

All you could focus was on the indescribable pain, feeling every burst and explosion of your illness taking over your body, that you barely were able to feel gentle hands cupping your cheek — the scent of paint and starlight invading your system — Feyre.

You couldn’t help but lean into her gentle hold, her warmth as you blinked away the white flashes of pain, trying with all your might to focus on your friend. The High Lady looked at you with fear and worry etched on her beautiful, ethereal features and all you could do was give her a small smile, despite the pain that wracked your body with tiny shivers, “I’m fine, Feyre…” You tried to reassure her, your voice meek and strained… your tone shaking underneath each word. You wanted to convince yourself that you were fine… it was just another flare of your illness.

It would pass.

It always did.

Both of you knew you were nothing but fine.

Not when the source of your pain was just up those marble steps.

Your face scrunched as another wave of pain shook your body, your back arching and your limbs stiffening at the agony that you were succumbing to every time your illness took over. Attempting to regain control over your body, you pressed your palm against your mouth, trying to fight back every urge to vomit all over the floor. But the burn in your throat was so strong, that the need to empty your stomach would help alleviate the pain. You scrambled to push Feyre away, pressing your hands against marble floors — and all you could do was heave.

A rainbow of flowers splashed onto those pristine floors — vines and thorns from those very flowers scratching your lungs and throat, causing blood to spew out of your lips, dripping down the edge of your lips, coating those flowers with red and the smell of metal lingering in your mouth.

It burns, it hurts.

That was all that you can think of.

How the pain took over your whole body, and there was nothing else you could think of.

Not even the fact that your destined mate had decided to choose a bond that was not connected to you.

Tears of agony cascaded down your cheeks as you gagged and heaved those flowers that took over your entire system. You inhaled, grasping as much air as you could before you vomited again, this time the contents of your stomach pooling underneath you.

You didn’t understand why. You couldn’t understand why this was cursed upon you — why you were destined to live this way, in so much pain… in so much hurt.

In so much loneliness.

For millennials, you had believed a mating bond was a beautiful thing, something that a happy ever after would grant you, much like those fairytale stories that you read as a child.

But for centuries, you realized that a mating bond was nothing but a curse.

The beauty of a mating bond, the flowers of love and romance… disguised as torture and unhappiness.

You didn’t even know, nor did you care, how long you were in that foyer, puking your lungs and stomach out. At that point, you didn’t care if Lucien had heard your retching from Elain’s room. All you wanted was for the pain to stop. Your vision blurred and your body swayed under the exhaustion you felt. You tried to stay conscious, tried to keep yourself from fainting… but you were so tired. You felt your body sway, the weariness tugging your brain to the darkness. But you caught yourself, regaining your balance with your hands and knees, fingers grasping onto the soft petals that lay beneath you, feeling them crunch underneath your grip.

Oh, how you hated it.

Hated how those flowers felt underneath your palm.

They were soft and gentle… but they grew inside of you — a curse to remind you of how devious and deceiving a mating bond was.

You had been so focused on the pain, so focused on staying awake that you barely heard the shuffling around you, how shadows covered your body, soothing your aching body. Whispers of worry passed over your subconscious, not having the energy to listen to what they were saying — was it about you? Did they take pity on your pain and suffering? You didn’t have an ounce to care. When gentle hands grasped your hands, feeling Feyre’s hands slip away from your cheeks, you whimpered, missing the warmth from your friend, only to be lulled into warm and gentle arms.

Blinking away the weariness and the tears, you looked up, your head lulling back onto broad shoulders and into beautiful violet hues.

“Rhys…” you whispered, your voice hoarse, your hands weakly reaching up to grasp his suit, bunching it up in your blood-stained hand, trying to ground yourself, to distract yourself from the pain that plagued your body.

Your body stiffened in his hold, another wave of agony threatened to pull you into subconsciousness. You whimpered, trying to gain little control over what was left of your body, one that was not dominated by torment.

You tried to focus on his words, seeing his lips open and close, as if telling you something — but the fog that penetrated your mind was so strong that it was just noise in your head. Vision swayed and black spots appeared in your vision. Your head rolled back again, your body becoming heavy in Rhys’ arms, as you felt him shift your body in his hold.

Gentle hands grasped the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at those violet hues. You blinked, trying to focus on the High Lord before a wave of darkness stormed into your mind, gently taking the pain away before lulling you into darkness — your body felt light, your mind drifting in the sea of darkness that welcomed you.

You floated in that darkness and all you hoped was that you would never wake up — would never have to succumb to the pain again. And never would have to face your mate who yearned for another.

But your wishes would never come true — they never did.

And when you had awoken, nightfall had fallen over Valeris.

Your body felt heavy, something that you had grown used to, after an intense eruption of your illness.

You lay there, in your bed, trying to attempt to lull yourself back into sleep, into that darkness that made you feel nothing. But your mind screamed at you to wake, to not drift into that darkness again.

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips, your throat burning from retching your lungs out, as you allowed your fingers to gently wiggle underneath the satin sheets, attempting to regain control over your body, feeling the cool sensation under your fingertips, grounding yourself back to the present — away from the memory of mental and physical suffering. You lay there, for seconds, minutes… hours before you opted to open your eyes. You blinked away the dried tears that crusted them, you blinked away the fatigue that made your eyelids feel heavy, as you focused on the painted ceiling above you — an image of the night sky, the one that mirrored the one outside your very windows. It usually gave you comfort, it gave you a sense of peace.

But at that very moment, all you felt was hollow.

As if you had emptied your whole self, your whole soul with those flowers, hours earlier. And now, there was nothing left of you. Your body was nothing but a greenhouse to create those painful flowers, there was no you left in the shell of your body.

It was a feeling, a moment that you would never get used to. On the feeling of being lost, that no one would be able to understand what you go through. And that no one ever would.

The door creaked open, the sound resonating loudly in your quiet room before the patter of feet entered your room.

You had no energy to look see who it was, you had no energy to do anything besides just lay there and rot, to decay into soil for those rotten flowers to grow from.

The bed dipped and you glanced over to see Feyre, that same worried expression on her features. You watched how her face twitched and shifted, trying to find the proper guise to speak to you with… but all you could see was the shadow of concern in her look. You watched as her brain turned, her lips parting before closing again — trying to figure out how to approach you.

Like you were an endangered, hurt animal.

“…How are you feeling, (Y/N)?” her lips tugged up into a simper of a smile, after a few minutes of silence, though her brows knitted together, assessing you from your supine position in bed, trying to gauge your physical and mental condition.

Dull eyes stared at her, unblinking and unmoving, and your throat itched to say something — something to smooth out those lines on her features.

But you couldn’t.

There were no words that could describe how much agony you go through… Every. Single. Time. You could never explain to Feyre, to Rhysand, or the rest of the Inner Circle… how it feels to have something so beautiful be so deadly.

No matter how many times they ask you, try to pull words out of you, or even whenever you allow Rhysand to wander your mind to understand just a bit of your pain… they would never fully understand.

All because your love was unreciprocated.

Your love and bond with Lucien Vanserra.

You had known him for centuries, ever since he had stepped into the borders of Spring Court. You had been nothing but the daughter of a low-ranking noble, one who had the privilege of serving Tamlin as a scholar in the High Lord’s castle; he had been the one to give you such a title. You had been the one who alerted your High Lord about the threat of Lucien’s brothers’ attempt at his life. You had been the one who befriended Lucien and allowed him to adjust while he was found a position in Tamlin’s court. You had been the one to stay by his side when the High Queen had ripped his eye out, been the one to nurse him back to health. You had gone through forty-nine years of the curse alongside him. And you had been the one beside him through the perils of Under the Mountain.

You had been his first friend in Spring Court.

And he had been your first love.

You had hoped and prayed for the Mother and the Gods to will your kindred spirits into a mating bond. You had hoped and prayed you gain any confidence to confess your feelings for him. But for centuries, that had been your downfall, you had been content with his presence, content with his friendship that you had believed that nothing would have changed.

But in the end, everything changed.

Feyre looked into your eyes, trying to find that part of you that still fought — fought for your life and your soul against this illness, but when she couldn’t, she sighed, willing back tears before reaching over to run her fingers through your tangled locks, trying to formulate comforting words to help you with your ordeal. But both of you knew, after knowing each other for years, there were no words that would soothe your pain.

Turning your head towards the rays of light that shone from your large windows, you focused on the soothing motion of your friend’s delicate fingers through your hair as you soaked in the night, twinkling sky of Valeris.

You had realized over the past few months you’ve lived in Night Court, that you had fallen in love with the night sky — how vast and never-ending it was over your head. It had eclipsed your previous adoration for your former home’s vast spring fields, ones that were overrun with wildflower and fresh grass — and that, now, you would happily die just laying out and staring into the twinkling night of Valeris’ skies.

Feyre had always said your sense of humor was morbid, how you would casually just bring up how you’d die as if it was a normal conversation starter.

But to you, it was.

Your illness was the only thing on your mind nowadays. Wondering when you would succumb to the pain and just die, or when the flowers finally take over your body — what would happen to you? Would you become a tree, lifeless and hollow, sprouting flowers from your mouth and nose?

It was the fear that drove your thoughts, turning them into morbid humor.

Because it was the only way you could cope with your looming doom.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, tasting the petals in your lungs, you turned back to Feyre, “…Is he still with her?”

Pain tugged on Feyre’s features and her hand grew still against your locks, hand pulling away and you could see that it was shaking.

That was the only confirmation you needed.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N)…” Feyre whispered, shifting so that she could sit closer to you, bringing your body into her warm embrace, “I had tried. Tried to force them apart with multiple different excuses, but Elain wanted to see him. She felt the tug on his end of the bond… and had grown curious... They’ve been together the whole night…”

There was nothing she could do to help soothe the ache in your chest. No comforting words, no gentle gestures. Nothing.

Tears brimmed your vision and all you could do was curse the Mother and the Cauldron.

Why couldn’t it be you?

Why couldn’t it be you that Lucien felt at the end of the golden string?

Why did the Cauldron deem that Elain was better for Lucien than you?

“(Y/N)…”

A shaky sigh escaped your lips as you looked over your shoulder, the sound of your name coming from a familiar-sounding voice — one that you had wished for centuries would call yours more often.

“Lucien…”

There stood at the threshold of your bedroom was Lucien, leaning against the open door, arms crossed over his chest. He garbed Autumn Court colors, rouge and gold material complimenting his skin tone very well.

He was a prince charming, straight out of those fairy tale books — but he wasn’t here to sweep you off your feet.

Your eyes glanced over his form, and caught the glimmering shine of the golden band around his ring finger — it was his wedding day. The ache of the mating bond resonated in your chest, one that you had grown used to and didn’t often flinch from the pain, and you gave a tiny smile, one you hoped wasn’t laced with anguish and hurt.

You had to be happy.

Happy for his sake.

“I didn’t see you at the ceremony… Feyre said you were here in your room…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the taste of petals coating your tongue, “…I wasn’t feeling too well, I watched it from up here though. It was a beautiful wedding, Lucien… I’m, happy for you.”

And you were, you were happy for him but the small part of you, wanted that happiness to be with you.

But the Mother does not grant you wishes — never for you.

Lucien stepped into your room and you felt your back stiffen slightly, shifting so you were closer to the metal railing of your balcony. You watched those heterochromatic hues stare at you, sweeping over your form as if to find the illness he had heard so much about — that russet eye assessing your form as if he could see right into your soul.

All you wanted to do was turn around, avoid his gaze — just avoid him entirely like you have been doing for the past few years.

You couldn’t be near him… not anymore.

He didn’t seek you out often anymore, and so you did the same.

For your health.

You watched as he stepped passed the doorway, his boots echoing into your room and that’s what you focused on, how he grew closer and closer to you to the point where he stood in front of you — his woody scent intermixed with honey and jasmine, of Elain’s scent.

It made you nauseous that your world spun around, you pinched your eyes shut, reaching back to grab onto the railing so you wouldn’t fall to your death. Though death seemed to be a better option than confronting Lucien.

Hands gripped your upper arms, as if to still your wavering body and your senses were overwhelmed by his — his scent, his breath, the warmth that radiated from his hands and body to your own.

It has been too much.

Pressing your hands against his chest, you shoved him away, your breath quick and sweat lining your forehead.

“Don't touch me… Please…” you begged him.

You used to love being in his presence. During peaceful times, before Amarantha’s reign, before the curse… you would always seek each other out — whether it be just basking in each other’s presence, or talking about your day to one another — your eyes would always try to look for him. He would easily just hold your hand for comfort or you'd always be welcome in his arms.

Everything was so much simpler and easier — without the cursed illness that rages in your body.

It was easier to be around him without the mating bond that connected you to him.

But now, nothing was simple. You couldn't be next to him, have him touch you so easily without the bouts of nausea and pain that came with an incomplete mating bond.

You had been able to handle it, since he had sought Elain often when he visited the River House. You avoided everywhere they may have been — the gardens, her bedroom — basically everywhere in the River House, confining yourself to your room.

The only people that would check in on you were Feyre, Mor and Rhysand — all three were the only people that knew of your condition, of your illness… and your love for Lucien.

Taking in a deep breath, the smell of florals invading your system as you felt small bursts of pain in your chest — more flowers taking over your lungs.

Eyes looked at him and you blinked twice — making sure your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. Surprise and hurt etched onto his beautiful features, his eyes staring at you as if you've done a taboo.

“What… what's wrong, (Y/N)? Why are you so distant with me lately?” his voice was full of confusion and all you wanted was to yell and scream all the pain that had been caused by the incomplete bond — but you couldn't.

He didn't know. He wasn't the reason why you were decaying slowly, it was your illness. The stupid, wretched curse placed upon you by the Mother above.

You looked at him, with so much longing and love — you wanted to convey centuries of your love for him, but it has been too late.

He had chosen his Cauldron bound mate.

A pained smile tugged on your lips as you reached up and gently caressed the scars on the left side of his face, and you watched as he leaned close to your palm — your illness flaring in your chest, you flinching slightly from the pain.

“You haven't been putting on the ointment for your face, Lucien…” you muttered, trying to avoid the topic of anything relating to your distance, to your pain, to your unrequited love for him, “It had been looking good… I hope it isn't too painful…”

Lucien’s golden eye whirlled, trying to lock gaze with your own, trying to assess what was going on with you; but you avoided his gaze, focusing on how badly your hand was trembling near him.

“… I haven't had the time to put on the ointment, and besides that had been your job for the past few centuries…” a tiny smile tugged onto his lips.

You tucked a loose strand of auburn hair behind his ear, feeling the soft lock between your fingers before you dropped your hand, gently grasping it in your other as if to stop the trembles, “You're right, it had been my job…But it looks like not anymore. Elain could do that for you… I'll—-” you swallowed the lump in your throat once more, the urge to cough up the flowers was strong.

“Lucien…”

The two looked back at your doorway to see her — Elain, dressed in white. You gave her a tight smile, glancing up at Lucien who’s facial features morphed from worry and confusion at you, to complete adoration and love for her.

Tears stung your eyes as you turned around, your back facing the two married couple.

“You should go Lucien… you're missing out on your reception…” your voice shook and you desperately hoped neither of them would notice.

You have to continue to be happy — for him.

“You should come with us, you don't have to be here alone…” his voice drifted with the wind.

Shaking your head, you looked over your shoulder at him and gave him a smile, “I’m content here…”

Hesitation tugged on his features but before he could say anymore, Elain gathered his attention and both of them slipped out of your room.

Your chest heaved and you slowly slid down to the ground, pressing you hands on those cold stone tiles and you heaved.

Heaved all the pain and anguished of a love that was never yours to begin with.

General Tag List: @prythianpages @strangelygreat

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #elain x lucien #lucien acotar #elucien #( .one shot : nothing but a curse )#lucien vanserra x reader

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

Text

🌛Writing Masterlist🌜

✨- indicates smut.

A Court of Thorns and Roses

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Azriel:

🌙Series🌙

Coming Home

Practice On Me

🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙

Pushing Buttons ✨

Heart of Fire

They Never Showed You Love

Fuck Me Properly ✨

All Tied Up for Me (Cassian & Azriel) ✨

Why are you still here? | Part Two

Studious | Part 2✨

Comfort ✨

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Cassian:

🌙Series🌙

Crawling Back to You (mini series)

Part one ✨

Part two ✨

Part Three ✨

🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙

All Tied Up for Me (Cassian and Azriel) ✨

What About Me?

Misunderstandings (Starfall Week 2023)

Heavenly Touches✨

Goddess✨

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Rhysand:

🌙Series🌙

🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙

With Me, Always.

Shrinking Violet. ✨| Part II ✨

Forget-Me-Not

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Lucien Vanserra:

🌙Series🌙

Fireleaf

🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙

Just You and Me ✨

Yell at Me Again ✨

A Personal Problem ✨

The Moon on a String ✨

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Eris Vanserra:

🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙

Loose Lips | Part Two ✨

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Nesta Archeron:

🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙

Strawberries and Cream (Starfall Week 2023) ✨

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utterlyotterlyx · 1 month

Text

Another Love - Alternate Ending

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Based on this ask

Original here

Summary - Azriel knows you'd never leave his side, no matter what, but when his new situationship with Elain takes over his every living moment and he takes advantage of your feelings, you make the only decision you can to save yourself only for him to hurt you in a way you never thought he could.

Warnings - ANGST, fluff, swearing, neglect, abuse of feelings, mentions of death, slight grovelling, lots of sadness, feminine rage

Word Count - 6.5k jeez

The clock ticked away, idly counting the seconds by, seconds that turned to minutes, and minutes that turned to hours, hours that Azriel had seemingly forgotten about the promise he had made to take you to the theatre.

The cobalt blue bow in your hair, that you had chosen to perfectly match him, swayed sadly as you moved about your room with a heavy heart, hanging up the dress you had bought especially for the occasion and changing into something more comfortable to wallow in self-pity.

It had become normal, his lateness, his nightly visits became later and shorter until they had stopped all together, well, that is until he needed something from you, and you would give him whatever he asked for, no matter how much it hurt you.

You had been a part of the Inner Circle for over 500 years, you were one of the originals, growing up in the camps with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel, Rhys' mother protected you fiercely, and you were very close to Selene, your chosen sister. You were the one they turned to for everything, you were wise and brutal, an incredible warrior and tactician, but also soft and kind; you were the blue break in a sky of storm clouds, you were the spring breeze that cut through the edge of winter, you were everything.

A thing Azriel knew all too well.

It didn't surprise you when Azriel had become fond of Elain, like it didn't surprise you when he had pined after Mor for all those years, completely looking over you in the process. Elain was a soft and fragile thing, she was quiet and graceful, and Azriel was completely besotted by her. A fact that made your heart curse your stupidity, cursing the hope you had willed into it that maybe he would finally see you.

It was no secret that you and Azriel were the closest out of all of the members of your growing family, you had shared 500 years of respect and adoration for one another.

Azriel was by your side when Selene had so brutally lost her life, he had held your hand through the depression and brought you back to life. Azriel knew every single thing that you loved and hated, he knew what every facial expression meant, he knew every tick of your body language which silently conveyed how you were feeling. Azriel knew you better than anyone, even better than he knew himself. The map of you laid etched bare on the back of his hand, a map he used to scour daily, but now barely even glanced at.

It wasn't so one sided.

You knew Azriel better than anything, and you knew a lot. 500 years of life pointed to a rich knowledge. You were the one who cleaned him up after a mission, you're the one who mended his broken bones and washed his turmoil away. You were the one who helped him overcome his insecurities with his hands. You were the one his shadows shot to at family dinners. You were the one who sang him to sleep when his demons had become to much. There was nothing you wouldn't do for Azriel, even if it meant standing on the side-lines until he wanted you.

Moonlight streaked along the floor of your bedroom, cascading across the pale blue of your comforter and drifting along the edges of your antique furniture. The dress you had wanted to wear to the theatre hung off the frame of your mirror, rippling softly in the gentle breeze that entered through the slightly ajar window.

It was silly to feel upset, you knew Azriel didn't owe you any of his time, but you had really thought he would pull through, especially after you had told him how much you missed spending time with him.

Interrupting your damaging thoughts, your door opened to reveal Azriel, who looked annoyed and not at all in knowing of his lateness or the promise that now lay in tatters in your chest. From the look on his face, you knew instantly that Elain was the one who plagued his mind, she was the cause of it every time he had come to see you recently.

Huffing, Azriel trudged to your cream living area, propping his feet up on the antique table you had asked him to be careful with far too many times and sinking into the cushions. He hadn't spared you a glance as he entered, he didn't note his colour in the form of a bow in your perfectly styled hair, he didn't see the sadness in your eyes laced with that naïve hope that he may have turned up to apologise for being late. He didn't see you.

"What happened this time?" You inquired, wrapping yourself tighter into your robe and sliding into the seat beside him, tucking your legs underneath you and propping your head in your palm as you stared at him.

Azriel was beautiful, scars and demons and all, the height of his cheekbones, those hazel oceans of a thousand emotions, the golden skin and arched brows, the curve of his muscles under his second skin, everything about him was intoxicating.

"Lucien," Azriel through his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, "I was so close to kissing her, so close, Y/N. And then Lucien walked in, he ruined it."

The revelation had stung, he'd never admitted to you to being close to kissing Elain before, it was always a myriad of stolen glances and ghosting touches, of hushed words laced with a million differing meanings. But never a kiss.

Azriel paid no mind to the hurt that radiated from you, he knew it was there, he always knew it was there but he couldn't focus on it.

Only an idiot could be blind to the clear feelings you had toward Azriel, the way you looked at him was not the way a friend looked at another friend, no matter how close they were. Azriel knew that he could never truly push you away, no matter how much you were hurting you'd never leave, he knew that, he knew you'd always be there for him to fall into.

It was so awfully wrong, but he lapped in serenity you gave him, in that unwavering loyalty, and he had no intention to stop drinking from your fountain of love.

"Lucien is her mate, Az. He's bound to not like whatever it is that's going on between you," your voice was gentle and full of understanding, your hand rested on his shoulder and he felt any anger disappear almost immediately. That's what your touch alone could do to him, bring him immeasurable peace.

"I know," he sighed, opening his eyes and turning his head to the side to look at you, a small smile tugged at his lips when he noticed how pretty you looked, with your hair parted just how he liked it, and with a bow tied neatly at the back, "I still think that the cauldron was wrong," your face faltered when he immediately continued on his weekly rant, "It gets it wrong sometimes, we know that. It's wrong, it has to be."

All you wanted was for Azriel to be happy, he deserved it more than anyone you knew. Rhys had found Feyre, who you adored tremendously. Cassian had found Nesta, who had become a very good friend of yours. So, you couldn't blame Azriel for believing that Elain was fated to be his, three brothers for three sisters. Even you had to admit that it made sense, The Mother moved in mysterious ways.

You plastered a smile on your face, you vision catching the satin of your new dress moving softly against the breeze, "Maybe it is," Azriel hummed at your words before continuing on, listing everything he adored about Elain.

"I wish sometimes that she was you, you know? That her and I could be like this, with no one watching over us, to be able to spend time alone and do whatever we wanted to do and talk about anything," it was like he didn't realise what he exactly he was wishing for.

Azriel wanted you to be Elain, so that he could have the life he dreamed of. Elain. Not you. Elain.

You weren't good enough for him.

"I hope you get to that point one day, Az," your voice was strained from holding in your strangled sobs, "I'm tired, can we talk about this more tomorrow?"

"Sure," Azriel smiled at you, rising from his seat and heading to the door, standing in the doorway and looking back at your form still glued to your spot, "I like your bow, Y/N. Blue suits you, always has," and then he closed the door behind him, you waited a few moments before letting your sobs flow through your lips and ripping that damned bow from your hair.

Azriel would never see you the way you begged to be seen, and you couldn't sit around and be the one he fell back to when life wasn't going his way.

More days had passed, more days of Azriel complaining to you, more days of Azriel wishing that Elain and you had switched paths so that he could finally get what he was owed.

Azriel didn't care for your tear stained skin, he didn't care for your weary eyes whenever you spoke of Elain to you.

It was awful that he knew exactly what he was doing, he was abusing your relationship with him, he knew you'd never walk away from him, he knew you'd never be able to put your foot down and tell him to cut it out.

The idea of a mate had him completely obsessed, obsessed to the point that he became blind to what was right in front of him, what had always been in front of him. That blind faith in your loyalty crumbled in his fingers once Rhys had told him that you had decided to purchase your own home in the city, a home away from them all.

"What?" Azriel had asked from his place at the dinner table, bewildered by the news given to them once he had asked where you were.

Nesta knew the exact reason why you had decided you separate yourself from them, you couldn't handle the rejection anymore, and you couldn't begin to heal from the decades worth of heartbreak under the same roof as Azriel and Elain. Nesta knew you held no ill feeling toward her youngest sister, you were too kind for that, you knew it wasn't her fault that Azriel came to you each time something went wrong in their situationship, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"She left, Az," Mor had cried when Rhys had pulled her to one side that afternoon to tell her that you had decided to move into the home that Rhys had bought you after you had made it clear that you needed your own space, and Rhys had spent an hour trying to convince his cousin that your decision was not impacted by anything any of them did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Azriel asked his brother who frowned, Feyre grabbed Rhys' hand and squeezed it in hers, "She can't just leave, Rhys."

"She has every right to after everything she's done for all of us, she deserves some peace," Rhys spoke calmly, snapping his fingers and allowing the sentient home to rid the plates and serving dishes from the table.

Azriel was speechless, he felt a frantic pull in his body, one that was poisoned with desperation at the thought of you being anywhere else than under the roof of the River House, the home you had spent a century redecorating and perfecting, paying special attention to each room to make it feel as homely as possible.

He didn't believe it as his chair groaned against the floor and he took off up the stairs toward your room, pushing his way through the doors to find it completely empty. No pictures hanging on the walls, no lines of hooks containing an array of ribbons in different hues, no dresses draped over your mirror, no antique furniture. It was all gone, and the scent of you that was usually so strong that it drowned him was a whisper in the atmosphere.

You had left.

Anger bubbled within him, how could you leave without saying anything? How could you move out of your shared home without a single word? How could you leave him after 500 years at his side?

Azriel flung open the doors to your balcony, a balcony plush with fresh flowers and greenery, he flexed his wings and hurtled himself into the starlit sky, allowing his shadows to peel from his body and search every inch of Velaris until they returned to him reeking of your scent and pulled him down to a small townhouse along the bank of the Sidra.

It was a charming home, pale brickwork, large bay windows, golden light emitting from them, and a large garden full of rich wildlife and botanicals. Your scent flowed from the closed oak door, lavender and honey with a hint of firewood and he found himself following that smell up the winding path until he was knocking on your door.

Golden light flowed from the home as you opened the door. You were dressed in denim overalls that were spatted with cream paint, you hair was loosely bound on the top of your head, and your face was full of uneasy surprise as you looked at him, "Az, what are you doing here?"

Azriel pushed past you and stood in the centre of your hallway, listening to your deep exhale as you closed the door. The space was pretty, it was very you, the walls were half painted cream from their original sage colour that you were obviously painting over, the coving was white and saturated with intricate little sketches of leaves, the carpet was a rich brown and had clearly been laid that day from how interrupted it looked, the only pattern on it being the imprints of your bare feet. Azriel didn't stop his shadows as they extended from him and scoured each part of your new home, nodding with approval and curling around your fingers in understanding adoration.

White sheets were draped over your perfectly placed furniture, to protect it from the paint no doubt, and the same tarp lay at the foot of the walls to protect the carpet. Music drifted softly about the room, and boxes upon boxes of books lay open, with some of them idly placed on shelves to get them out of the way to be sorted properly at a later date.

"It's true? You've really left," he noted the intricately presented kitchen, white cabinets and exposed wooden beams, just like you always wanted.

You rounded him, walking into your new living space, bending down to pick up one of your plant pots before placing it on the window ledge, your back faced him but he could see the pain in your features through the reflection in the window, "Yes, I live here now."

"No. No. You're coming home with me, this is ridiculous," his heart was beating a mile a minute, he couldn't think straight, all that was consuming him was the reality that his fear had come to fruition, that the one person he believed would never leave him had actually walked away.

"I'm not coming back, Azriel," you told him softly, and he saw your shoulders rise and fall with each deep inhale of breath you forced your lungs to take.

Then you turned to him, in the middle of the home that you were trying to make yours, a home away from him, "I thought you'd never leave me. You can't leave me. You're my best friend, I need you."

"No, you don't. You need someone to fall back onto when life isn't going your way, that's all I am to you now," you felt your heart breaking, you felt it shattering in your chest, "I can't be the one you turn to when something becomes between you and Elain. I can't be the one you wish was her. I can't do it anymore, Az. You've taken advantage of me for too long. You promise me the world and show up empty handed. You don't realise I even exist until you need someone to complain to and I just can't do it anymore."

Azriel knew every word you were saying was the truth, he knew he had been using you, but he never expected you to actually walk away from him, you were supposed to love him too much to leave.

Your heart was in the palm of his hands and he knew it, he knew you'd spent hundreds of years falling deeper in love with him each passing day whilst he pined for someone else. The fact of your departure made a bitter monster appear in his mind, he allowed it to tug on the venom in his heart, he allowed it to control him, "Aren't you supposed to be in love with me?"

Azriel watched your eyes widen and a breathless gasp fall from your lips, "You know?"

The Shadowsinger scoffed, "Of course I know. Only a fool wouldn't be able to see it," he saw your face contort into painful sorrow but did nothing to stop himself from saying, "I've known for years. I've known that you'd never leave, you've always been the one that I come to for anything I need and you never complain or tell me to leave. You made it easy to take advantage of you."

A tear slid down your cheek but Azriel made no move to wipe it away, "I want you to leave."

"I'm not leaving without you."

Fire roared in your eyes, "You have no right to command me after what you've knowingly done. I honestly thought that you didn't know, that it was innocent and that you just needed my advice. Now I know that you've willingly abused my kindness, Azriel, you can rot in hell," the tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes, your voice was strained and sore, your chest was so tight that you thought it may stop beating all together, "Get. Out!"

Azriel had left you then, he had left your door wide open and soared into the skies, leaving you in the home that was now tainted by his deceit.

It had been months since Azriel had seen you, Nesta and Feyre had practically forbid him from going anywhere near your home, that being from the land or sky. But that didn't stop him from allowing his shadows to slither under your front door or linger in the streets, he was desperate to know how you were.

Azriel hated himself for what he had said to you, he hated himself for taking advantage of you. In some way he tried to justify it, you were too good for him, he didn't want to ruin you, but it was clear that he already had.

Your absence had left a void that no one could fill, not even Elain despite her efforts, even the thought of her made his stomach drop and sickness swirl to the point where he couldn't bring himself to be around her. All Elain did was remind him of how he failed you.

Azriel had tried writing to you since you wouldn't see him, he gave the letters to Feyre and Nesta, the latter of which still saw your daily, and grew colder toward him with each passing moment. Even Cassian did nothing to hide his disappointment in him, and Rhys had some very telling words to express once Feyre had told him the truth of what had happened in your home that night.

Nothing was working, things with Elain were strained and difficult, the problems between them so raw and everyone's opinions so disapproving that it created a distance between them that was unmanageable.

Then it dawned on him that nothing was working with Elain because it wasn't meant to. The person who was meant to be his had been under his nose for 500 years, and now wanted nothing to do with him.

Cassian had pulled Azriel from his thoughts by stepping through the threshold of his room, "Are you coming to training?"

"Tell me how to fix it," Azriel lifted his head from his hands and turned his head toward Cassian who sighed in reply, moving to the bed to sit beside Azriel, "I need to know how to fix it."

"Only you can figure that out, Az," Cassian spoke to him, throwing his arm over Azriel's shoulder before continuing, "Y/N loves you Az, she has for 500 years. A few months apart won't change that. You're really fucking stupid for this though, she's the only one of us who knew the exact right thing to do and say every time. Y/N deserves more than the basic requirements of respect, she deserves the world in the palm of her hand and a person who loves her more than he loves himself. Don't bother her unless you can do that."

It was the anniversary of Selene's death, and the day hadn't gotten any easier for you to deal with.

Rhys and you had made a habit of doing something together each year, though, Azriel was the one to accompany you when Rhys had gone Under the Mountain. The location was sacred to you, you and Rhys would bundle yourselves up in blankets and watch the sun set over the Sidra, you'd rehash old memories and stories, ones that you both knew the script to by heart, but that never got old.

Your High Lord had tried to convince you to come home, but didn't push you when you had told him no. Your life had began to feel rather empty without the family antics that consumed your day-to-day life.

"I miss her," you had told him sadly, your head rested on his shoulder as the sun tipped her toes into the water in the distance, the sky grew darker each passing minute.

Rhys hummed, holding you closer to his side, "So do I," he replied with equal sadness, you had all grown up together, you basically were his sister by blood, and when you both had lost her, it only made him clutch to you more, "She'd nail Az's balls to the wall for sure."

A laugh passed through your lips before it died in your throat, you had done your best to not think about Azriel despite him owning your soul, you had done your best to heal from what he had done, but even then, you missed him more than anything, "How is he?"

It was the first time you had asked about him since before you had moved to your new home which was now fully decorated and yours, thanks to Rhys, Feyre and Nesta who made it their priority to help you settle, "He's-" Rhys couldn't lie to you, he was never able to even when you were younger, "-Not great. He misses you, he hates himself for what he said to you that night."

"I'd hate myself too," you had hummed, shifting to stand on the stone ledge where you and Rhys had sat, wanting a better view of the sun as it began to disappear against the horizon.

A familiar cold kiss pecked at your ankles and you looked down to see those shadows you had missed so dearly meandering around where you stood. Cedar entered your lungs and you shivered in painful delight as his warmth curled around your back.

"Y/N," his voice was deep and rough, it was pleading, you looked to your side and found that Rhys had vanished. That damn meddler. "Please look at me."

Not able to say no to that voice, you indulged the Shadowsinger and turned on the balls of your feet to peer upward at him. Azriel had his wings neatly tucked behind his back, his hands dangled at his sides, and his head was hung low. He looked terrible.

"Why are you here?"

Azriel clenched his jaw, he didn't expect you to be happy to see him, but it didn't stop the self hatred from growing in every single cell of his body, "I know how hard today is for you, I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"Well I'm fine, so you can go now," you made a move to walk away, to take the path down the edge of the Sidra to your home which had become your haven away from reality.

Though, you didn't get very far, perhaps two steps before Azriel's fingers curled around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and pulling you back to him, "Y/N, I don't even know how to apologise in the way that you deserve. I don't know how to say sorry and make you feel like I see and hear you."

"What I did was disgusting, I hate myself for it. I never should have taken advantage of you like that, you've done everything to help me the entire time that I've known you and I ruined everything for someone I don't even want. I've always wanted a mate, you know that, and I got so carried away with wanting it that I completely ignored the only person who's ever truly loved me for me despite all of the horrid things I have done. Elain isn't you, Y/N. No one compares to you. No one makes me feel safe like you do, no one makes me feel alive like you do, and no one can make me hope for death by their void like you do."

"I am yours, Y/N. I always have been. I couldn't be the reason you ever got hurt, I couldn't be the one to risk extinguishing that glorious fire in your soul. You are the only one I cannot bear to lose, the thought of losing you terrifies me, it always has, and instead of protecting you, I took advantage of you and pushed you away because I would rather hurt someone else with everything that I am than hurt you with just a a part of it."

"I'm so stupid for ignoring you, I'm a prick for using you as my security blanket rather than let you in, you know me better than I know myself, you love me more than I could ever imagine, and it terrified me because I couldn't let myself love you. I couldn't let myself taint you."

Azriel lifted his hands, cupping your face in his palms and you could see every inch of despair within him, that conflicted flame dancing within his soul, "I'm not asking you to forgive me, I don't think I will ever be able to forgive myself after what I've done to you. I'm not asking for anything from you. I just need you to know that no matter how severe your storm, I promise I won't leave your side, I'll stay with you through the howling winds that whip my cheeks raw and red. I will stay and hold you when the night leaves you shivering and give you space when when your searing heat pushes you into a fiery rage. I will stay and love you in whatever way you crave, whether that be from next to you or from wherever you cast me to."

"Azriel-" tears flowed freely from his eyes and you knew he meant every word he was saying. Every single word was being plucked from the core of his essence.

"I know that you're scared, and that you don't trust me. I'm scared too. But you're the only one I can face love with because I only want to feel it with you. At the end of the day I want it to be you and me, I want your early mornings and late nights, I want you on your good days and bad. I will never stop wanting you. I will never stop needing you filling my lungs like oxygen and giving me life."

Azriel dropped his forehead onto yours, and you felt your own cheeks dampening from your own tears at his words, "I love you, Y/N. I will always love you, even if you don't want me to, even if you decide to walk away from me I will not stop loving you. I am so thankful for you, and I know I haven't shown that, but if you give me one more chance, I will show you exactly the man you have made me into. I will give you the world you have always dreamed of. My soul is yours until you stop loving me. Please. Please."

There was a silence as you contemplated his words, maybe he did mean them, but it still didn't detract from the clear fact that he had knowingly abused your love of him, that he had knowingly taken advantage of you.

"No," Azriel physically winced as you removed yourself from his embrace, his forehead and fingers crying at the loss of your touch, his shadows retracted like they had been burned, withering away before his eyes.

"No?"

"No, Azriel," you wiped your cheeks free of your sadness which had turned into rage, "You can't come here on my hardest of days to confess your love for me after abusing me endlessly, after overlooking me our entire lives for others. I will not be your second, third, or last choice. If I'm not your first choice then I don't want to be a part of it at all. I loved you, Az. I loved you more than my lungs needed air to survive, I would have done anything for you. I did do everything for you. And this is how I'm repaid, by being consciously used to inflate your precious ego?"

"Y/N, no, it wasn't like that," he reached for you and you took a step back, the stars illuminated the sky in their richly elegant glow, and you could feel Selene wrap her heavenly arms around you and tell you to stick it to the man.

"But it was Azriel. It was like that. First it was Mor who you pined after for decades, I could deal with it then, I knew how much you wanted to be loved and cherished, and with Mor, you never came to me and complained, it was like you didn't even want her. But then Elain, you made me so small and insignificant, you had the gall to wish she was me, you knew I loved you and you chose to say that?"

"Y/N, please-"

"Stop fucking talking," you hissed, "I do not live to serve you, the purpose of my life is not to be your maid and mother and nurse so you don't have to lift a finger. I am not your therapist or path to live out your pathetic picket fence dream. I am Y/N, I was your best friend, I would have given you everything and I did even when you gave me nothing and I am done. I am done being the thing you can throw aside and pick up when you want to feel good about yourself. I'm done."

Your body felt ten times lighter, like you had just off loaded all of the rage that had been stacked within your mind and soul directly to the person who deserved to know just how vile they had been to you.

"I never want to talk to you again. I'm not sorry, the only one to blame for everything falling apart is you and your whimsical other-worldly dreams. Grovel your heart out, Az, you're never going to know about my life from here on out. I forbid it."

And then you left, you had left Azriel stood on that rock looking the most broken you had ever seen him, even his shadows had fully retreated into his body, wounded by your words and ashamed of their master. They had just lost their favourite thing in the world.

He had continued to try and get your attention in the weeks that followed, appearing on the streets and trying to speak to you to which you wholly ignored, he had showed up at Rita's and tried corner you, begging you to just listen, but you looked right through him.

Rhys had agreed to give you a different position, one that would mean less opportunity to bump into Azriel. You had become an emissary to the Night Court, Rhys' most trusted one at that, and you travelled Prythian and kept bonds alive and strong between the courts.

The Inner Circle were mostly just polite to Azriel, they respected your decision, some even admired it, and Azriel stood and watched as Elain accepted the bond with Lucien, feeling foolish for ever believing that he was deserving of such a sacred thing.

Every time you had returned home, Azriel would have all manners of gifts delivered, from pastries to fine jewellery and dresses . It had gotten so out of hand that you had to scream into Rhys' mind to get his brother to stop. You had kept your word, you didn't speak to him even when you did see him.

And soon enough he stopped, he didn't linger in the streets or on the bank of the Sidra, his shadows no longer followed you, no more gifts arrived at your home that was bursting with new wonder. Azriel had finally realised that no amount of pleading words or pretty things would bring you back to him. You were gone.

The hope that had filled his heart, that had broken the shadow shrouding his soul, when Rhys had announced that you were joining them for dinner that evening, was enough to bring some happiness to him. Azriel had been a ghost of himself, wallowing in self pity and loathing, completing his missions to a far more gruesome degree before returning home and tending to his own wounds. No one was there to help him anymore.

You were ethereal, you had stepped through the door with a happiness he hadn't seen in your in decades, your skin was glowing and your eyes were bursting with happiness. You were dressed in a ornately stunning forest green dress, one that he had never seen before, and you sat in your usual seat, that one that had laid empty for thirteen months wedged between Feyre and Nesta's chairs, the one they glanced at longingly each day.

Yet again, you avoided Azriel, but not obviously in a sense, you just negated to recognise his presence entirely. The only thing you did recognise were his shadows that pecked your wrists, and he willed you to look at him, instead, you only smiled at the shadows and that was enough to make them feel validated and still loved by you.

Rhys had asked how you'd been and you didn't relent on sharing your tales from your travels across the continent, from the libraries in the Day Court that Helion had given you access to, to learning the healing powers from the top healers in Dawn, you were enriched with knowledge and you were loving every moment.

"I do have some news," you spoke and if Azriel hadn't been listening to your stories, which he certainly was because it made him feel like a part of your life again, he was definitely listening to you now.

Azriel noticed the blush creeping up your cheeks and the bashful look in your eye, he watched your chest rise and fall shakily as you tried to form the words to tell them what you needed to. Azriel knew that look, because that's how you used to look when you were thinking about him.

"I found my mate," you had admitted, and your eyes found him for the first time in over a year, they held sympathy within them, and he felt all of the air rush from his lungs.

Your look only lasted a couple of seconds before Rhys wrapped you up in his arms, laughing joyfully at the news as the rest of the room, even Elain and Lucien, stood to congratulate you, everyone but him.

"Do we know him?" Feyre asked, her blue-grey eyes brimming with happy tears, all they wanted was to you to find your happiness, in whatever way that would be gifted to you.

You nodded, a love-sick smile on your face, "You do, we've already accepted the bond, and I know you may not approve but I need you to, for me? He's coming tonight, I want you all to meet him."

Rhys kissed your forehead and Azriel felt the fire rage within his chest, he'd give anything to have your skin under his lips again, "Of course," the door sounded and Azriel felt as though he was in a fever dream.

You had a mate. His Y/N had found her mate.

You had inhaled deeply and squeezed Feyre's hands in your own before you left the room, the muffled muttering of your voice conversing with your mate sounding to Azriel's left. He knew they were glancing at him, but they didn't say a word, and he didn't meet their gazes, he didn't look up until your scent mixed with another's entered the room. The perfect harmony of lavender and pine, of spiced oranges and honey.

"I believe you all know Eris," he heart dropped to his stomach and Azriel felt the room spin as he looked toward you, toward Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court, who gently laid his hand on your hip and pressed his lips to your temple.

Eris had become an ally after overthrowing Beron, Mor had forgiven him for his past transgressions, Rhys had even considered him a friend. Eris Vanserra was your mate.

The room audibly gasped and rushed to you both, hugging and congratulating you, so unbelievably happy that you had found your person, "The moment I saw her in my court I knew it was her. It snapped for me before she realised it, but I couldn't have anyone else whilst knowing that this beautiful creature was out there fated to be mine," his eyes were full of love, unblemished untainted pure love, and yours twinkled in reply as you unveiled the large sapphire on your ring finger, "Y/N is set to become my High Lady. I promise you all that I will cherish her every moment of every day. I am so irrevocably in love with her and I just know that our souls will find one another in every universe we may wander into. She's my everything and I will always choose her. Always."

Azriel watched you, doing his best to simmer down the fire raging within his heart, he looked at your bright smile and sparkling eyes, he roamed your glowing skin and inhaled your mated scent, and then his gaze fell on the barely there swell of your stomach and he decided in that moment that you were divine and untouchable, and that he would finally let you go if it meant that you'd be happy and breathe the life that you were meant to own.

A life full of the love that no one deserved more than you.

Authors Note

I think I like this version better..

@saltedcoffeescotch @fxckmiup

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violette-hue · 8 months

Text

Fated | (01) (02)

Summary: Azriel’s been coming over more frequently, and decides to spend the night. He opens up about some of his problems.

Trigger Warning(s): **18+ ONLY, minors do not interact, SPOILERS, unprotected sex, smut, cursing, jealousy, mentions of nausea, mentions of being sexually used, heartbreak-ish, not proof read

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: not at all what I had planned, but I’m happy with how it turned out :)

Over the next month and a half, you had gotten used to a body warming your bed. Azriel was sound asleep next to you, the blankets relaying dangerously low on his stomach. Your eyes greedily took in his exposed skin, his toned chest and stomach, the dark line of hair trailing down beneath your blankets. Ever since Rita’s he had been the one warming your bed. He wouldn’t come over to your small apartment every night, but most nights he was here. He’d come over, fuck you proper, and sleep. Sometimes he’d wake up and repeat the process—one, two, three times in one night until he was satisfied. You knew that’s what you were for, some release and satisfaction, but Azriel had been coming over more frequently and maybe, just maybe, that meant something. You weren’t delusional enough to think he was falling for you, but it had to mean something, right? A piqued interest, a slight tug of the heart.

You chewed on the inside of your lip and brushed a few strands of dark hair from his forehead. When he had come over last night, his face had been so full of emotion, his eyes stirring. You wondered what could have gotten him so worked up. Azriel wasn’t keen on sharing much personal information. You knew his name, that he was Illyrian, and that he worked for the High Lord. He wouldn’t say anything more, even when you asked. So when you saw all the emotions built behind his walls, you didn’t ask any questions. You invited him in and eased any tensions the only way you knew how.

Still, you couldn’t help but question why he chose to return to you each time. Was there something about you he liked that he was apprehensive of saying? Were you just an easy conquest? Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, churning last night’s dinner. You hoped that wasn’t the case—you hope he called on you because he wanted to, not because you were too easy. Though, you supposed it shouldn’t have mattered…you were no one to him. And he was no one to you. Should be no one to you, but you weren’t ready to touch on that subject. Not when it could ruin everything.

You tore your eyes away from Azriel’s peaceful face and made your way to the bathroom. You ran a hot bath, and when you were comfortable enough with the temperature, stepped into the deep tub. The hot water hugged your skin and worked wonders on your sore body. Azriel was a passionate lover and handled you with care normally, but last night he had been unhinged. Whatever was bothering him must really be eating him alive. You looked at your arms, at the red marks around your wrists. You closed your eyes as the memories from last night flooded your mind.

He had wrapped his large hand around your wrists above your head with such force as he pound into you. Your legs were loosely draped around his waist, barely able to hold on as you were overwhelmed with pleasure. His fingers dug into the fleshy skin of your wrists, right between the bone. You had cried out with both pain and pleasure as he rode out your second orgasm of the night. The second of many.

You opened your eyes suddenly as the familiar throbbing ached between your legs. The memories of him were enough to make you heated. You brought your legs up to your chest and rested your elbows on your knees. You tried not to recount your sessions with Azriel, least you wanted to spend the next half hour to an hour pleasuring yourself. Even that wasn’t enough to sedate your lust. Not when it came to him.

Azriel was unlike any lover you had taken to your bed. He was larger than any other male you had lain with, and had more stamina. He was more attentive, making sure to not hurt you too much and give you rest in between sessions. He made sure you finished at least once before finishing himself, and he’d usually run you a hot bath after you’d both settle down. He’d be gone after a bath, but this time… You looked to the closed door, Azriel sound asleep on the other side. This time he had chosen to stay. Deep down, you wanted to believe he stayed because he wanted to, but you knew better. You were sure he only stayed because he was too tired to leave.

The silver door handle turned and the dark, wooden door swung open. Azriel shuffled inside your bathroom with a mumbled good morning and leaned against the door frame.

“Good morning,” you replied softly. “The bath’s still hot if you’d like to join.” You tried to keep your eyes from roaming his naked, glorious body.

Azriel nodded and strode over to the tub. He stepped in gently, the water reaching just below his knee. The water rose as he sat across from you in the deep tub, and you pulled the stopper to drain some of the excess. You both sat in silence for a bit, enjoying the hot water on your muscles. Your eyes roamed over to his chest, his face, and he smiled.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden?” Azriel asked. He reached for you with gentle hands and pulled you over to his lap. His fingers traced along your jaw in comforting strokes.

“Sorry,” you started, “it’s just that you’ve usually never spent the night before. I’m not sure if I should be making you breakfast or waking you up by sucking your cock.”

Azriel laughed, his chest brushing against yours. You situated yourself on his lap, your knees placed next to either side of his thighs. You ignored his cock brushing against your thigh—or at least tried too.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to either, but this is fine, too.” He inhaled deeply, his muscles relaxing as he exhaled. “I’m sorry if I’m imposing, I should’ve asked if it was okay to stay.”

“I’m fine with you staying.” Your hands ran up his firm chest to his neck. Your fingers slid into the hair at the base of his neck and massaged the area. “You looked like you needed it.”

“Yeah, I did.” Azriel’s eyes shut as he enjoyed your ministrations.

This is how it was always like. You’d poke at the situation, hoping he’d open up and tell you what was wrong, only for him to give vague, short answers and leave you in the dark. Though, why should he tell you anything? You were only his lover. Lover. The word made your heart sing and squeeze at the same time. How many other lovers did he have? You shifted slightly.

“Feyre, she has this sister,” Azriel started. You jumped at the sound of the High Lady’s name and listened intently. “Her name is Elain. Rhys won’t let me near her. She has a mate, but she doesn’t even want him.”

Your furrowed your brows. “Why won’t he let you?”

“Because the sexual tension keeps building and we need to stay on good terms with her mate. They haven’t even mated officially.”

Your fingers faltered and your heart dropped to your stomach. “Oh.” Nausea crept up your throat and churned your stomach. You willed the dread away, willed yourself to say something else. “I don’t really understand politics.” You mentally kicked yourself. What a stupid thing to say.

This was why he had been coming over to your apartment so worked up? This was what you had let your body be used for? To release sexual tension for another female? You felt sick to your stomach. How could you have willingly let a male you just met have that much of a hold on you? Those sessions you thought meant so much to him, meant nothing at all. You were the other female, not some lover. You forced your face into neutrality, forced every muscle in your body not to recoil with disgust. You weren’t even disgusted at him. You were disgusted at yourself for letting him in so easily and falling hard.

Azriel nodded slightly. “He could ask for a duel if Elain and I got intimate. He’d die, and Rhys can’t have him dead.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” Every nerve in your body was yelling at you to run away. “Why doesn’t she just reject the bond?”

“I don’t know. No one will let us be alone to even ask that question.” Azriel lay his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him. “I…I haven’t been using you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You tilted your head to the side. “My mind crossed that option.”

He sighed deeply and ran his hands up and down your lower back. “I won’t lie to you, at first it started off that way. But I like this thing we have. The company, the sex – it’s comfortable..”

You forced a light laugh and prayed it sounded natural. “I’m not really sure that sounded like a compliment, but thank you.” Your fingers tugged slightly at the hair on the base of his neck. “I like this thing we have, too. The sex is good.”

Azriel smiled. “The sex is good.” His lips brushed against yours softly. “It’s great.”

You giggled, and just like that, any disgust you had felt minutes ago was washed away. You allowed Azriel to kiss you deeply, allowed him to run his hands from your ass to between your thighs. You sighed deeply as one of his digits entered you with ease and curled against your soft walls. One, two, three fingers entered you, in and out, in and out. Your sighs morphed into strangled moans as his lips clashed with yours. He swallowed your breaths, your whines as he worked you to an orgasm. You writhed in his hold as release came over you in waves and you called out his name breathlessly.

“When I’m with you, it’s like all my problems melt away,” Azriel murmured against your lips. “Like I’m okay to just be me. No worries. No problems. No fights. No nothing but this.”

You nodded, your hand reaching down to guide his cock inside you. You cried out as you sank down, taking him all in. He hissed and gripped your hips tightly.

“Me too,” you gasped. “I like this – love this.” You moved, your hips rising and falling against him. The water splashed outside of the tub, sploshing loudly. You’d clean that up later. Now, you needed to get all of him inside you, again and again until it was enough. It wasn’t enough. His length deep inside you, brushing against the edge of you and it still wasn’t enough. Your nails raked down his back as you cried out. You needed more.

“Fuck–you feel so good–” Azriel ground out beneath you, his hands guiding you down on his cock with enough force to drain the tub of nearly all it’s water.

“Good enough to forget Elain?” The words left your mouth before you could think of the consequences. But fuck the consequences and fuck Elain. Azriel was yours. Your heart squeezed at the intrusion. He was yours.

Azriel didn’t skip a beat. A crooked smile tugged at his lips. “Jealous?” His fingertips dug into your skin.

You shook your head. “What’s there to be jealous about?” you said breathlessly. “You’re fucking me, not her.”

He grunted and held you close to him. He stood quickly and stepped out of the tub. In an instant, your back was against the cold tile and your legs were hanging over Azriel’s shoulders. He thrust into you harshly, his balls slapping against the wet skin of your ass.

“That’s right, baby,” he ground out. “I’m fucking you.”

You choked on a moan as his thumb moved harshly over your clit. Closer and closer you were being pushed to oblivion. Your stomach tightened with a familiar feeling as you locked eyes with him. Release was coming soon, but you were nowhere near satisfied. Your back arched off the tile as you tried to wrap your legs around his waist. You needed to touch Azriel, feel him closer to you. Your hands snaked around him to rest on his back, your nails finding purchase in the skin on his shoulders. His chest flushed against yours, you kissed him vigorously. Teeth scraped against one another, tongue brushing against tongues, you thought you’d die. You felt too good for this to be real.

Release washed over you like a white hot wave. Your legs squeezed around Azriel, and you heard him curse. You felt his cock twitch inside you, sputter as he emptied himself in you. You lay on the floor panting, legs locked around your lover. Your heart felt so full, you almost didn’t want to move. Except, now your legs were cramping and you needed another bath. You peeled yourself off of Azriel and sat up slowly. The familiar feeling of his cum slipping out of you made you tense.

Azriel placed a tender kiss to your forehead and helped you stand up. His hand trailed up your arm to your wrist as he led you back to the bath. He tensed as he saw the red marks on your wrist.

“Was this me?” he asked, bringing your wrist closer to him.

“From last night.” You stepped into the tub slowly, careful to not slip. You turned the faucet to refill the tub with hot water.

He placed a soft kiss on the red flesh. “I’m sorry.”

You raised your head and met his gaze. You wanted to say that it was fine, that you had enjoyed it, but the air sucked right out of you. Something in his eyes stirred and reached out to you. Not physically, but mentally – almost divinely. It was as if his shadows reached inside your body and filled every crevice, every cell. Your heart sang as his eyes searched yours for a response.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled.

It wasn’t okay, not in the slightest. His shadows danced around you, or at least you thought they did. You weren’t sure of anything at this point. You weren’t entirely sure you were even standing. You felt lightheaded and completely grounded at the same time.

Mate, his shadows sang. They sang louder and louder until they overpowered you. You couldn’t see any light, there was no way out of this.

Azriel was your mate.

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