#mating circle
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Demons (Pt. 2)
Lucifer x fem!nun!reader
A/n: Here is Part 2!!!
Mating circle, NSFW, Nudity, P in V, Smut, mention of breeding
Part 1 < Part 2
As time passed and you grew more accustomed with your new body. You started to feel sick.
Your body started to grow hot, and you began to sweat uncontrollable. After some days lewd thoughts made your mind spin and your abdomen clenched around nothing.
Today you couldn’t even get out of bed. it was too hard. Your head burned through your scalp like acid. Your muscles ache every time you tried to move.
Instead of resting you start with your morning prayer. This time to Lucifer, hoping he’d come and explain what is happening with you.
You thought sinners can't really fall sick. The pain in every part of your body proves this theory wrong. Or so you thought.
You opened one of your eyes and gazed to the sparkling noise. A golden portal opened, and Lucifer stepped into your apartment. You stood up abruptly. Your head started to spin uncontrollably. To help yourself you reached for the near wall, but it was too far.
Your stomach cramps and you almost vomit at the sudden pressure. The spinning only got worse every second. With a loud sigh you collapsed onto the floor and everything around you turned black.
....
A wet towel was pressed onto your forehead, and you sigh in content. Lucifer chuckled as he watched the smile forming on your face.
Lucifer doesn’t want to admit it but when he saw you passing out, he got scared for a second.
The way your Apartment was full of those pheromones that made him go mad wasn't helping. His legs wobbled under him and he started to feel like he was on jelly.
But you are his top priority. The pheromones that escaped your body, he could survive this.
Lucifer knew this would happen. When he smelled it, you would start your heat soon. The smell was all over you. Being a hybrid has his highs and lows.
When he got this one addictive whiff, he wanted to know how you may feel around him. He shakes his head, hoping these thoughts would escape.
Your breathing was hard, and you clenched your thighs together to get some relief. The cold water was loosing it effects, and your vision grew hazier.
“Oh lord what is happening with me?” You asked. It was uncomfortable how your body craved something inside of you. You never wanted to do those lewd things. Never. But you couldn’t control your mind nor body.
“You’re in heat.” Lucifer answered for you, and you looked up to him. “What is a heat?” Lucifer laid the water towel away from your forehead and dipped it into the cold-water bowl. “It’s a time in the month where you want to find a mate and breed? If I remember correctly. It’s quite common for sinner hybrids.”
You groaned as he said breed. You felt disgusting for being turned on by the way he said it. Getting breed by him doesn’t sound that bad though. You shake your head furiously. ‘No Y/n. You’re a nun for a reason.’
You whimpered when Lucifer accidently brushed thigh. “Please.” You don’t know what came over you but the pain between your legs only grew and grew.
You needed help and maybe Lucifer could? With his magic perhaps?
“My Lord Lucifer. Can you help me to get rid of this?” red blush creeped all over his face he turned towards you and rubbed his neck nervously. “Erm… Can you repeat that?”
Lucifer thought he wasn’t hearing correct. A hybrid nun wants his help with her heat from him.
The pain only increased, and you breast started to swell more and more. “Help me Lucifer,” You groaned when your hole clenched around nothing, “please~.” Lucifer gulped down the knot that built in his throat. “I could help you sweetheart. But it comes with a price, are you willing to accept?” You nod furiously. You couldn’t care less about the price, this growing pain and built-up pressure needs to disappear.
If God could see what you're doing and what you're about to do with his son. God have Mercy on your soul.
Your head was cloudy and you couldn't think straight. You need something or someone. And Lucifer was there for you. Being social never was your thing, yet after years and years of only serving the Lord in the cathedral you kind of missed it.
Lucifer laid the towel back into the bowl. He crawled on top of you and stroked your waist. “It’s been a little while. So, I’m a bit rusty.” You tail swayed from excitement and your ears twitched to hear every noise he makes. The way his body pressed into yours was making your body much hotter.
To relief some of the pain you pressed your heat onto Lucifer. Lucifers breathed hitched. He can’t believe he is doing this right now. You, the nun who served his father this long now trapped between his arms.
Lucifer’s breathing rigged as he felt your heat vibrated against his and he lets out a brief growl.
Lucifer watched you ever since you started to dig more information about him. He enjoyed as you started to convert to him and his beliefs. You didn’t even realize that you did.
Your whine pulled him back at the situation that is happening. Your legs moved behind his legs, and he did nothing to stop you. With a hard press on his waist with your legs you feel his erection twitching on your clothed slit. “Fuck.” Lucifer huffed. You are driving him mad.
He tried so hard not to fall in your warm hands. Yet the moment you stretched them out he fell right into them.
You started to hump his hips dry. Lucifer groaned as you moved onto his clothes shaft. He knows this is wrong. Using your body in such a weak state, in heat.
He never stopped, neither did you.
His fingers brushed down from your stomach to your pants. You sigh in content and raise your hip to meet his finger faster. When Lucifer started to circle your clit, you let out a long moan. But it wasn’t enough. No. You need him. You need his dick now and not later.
“Lucifer.” He hummed, too stunned to speak. His body shook at the loss of control. He is losing against his wild thoughts. “I need you.” Lucifers finger rubbed at your entrance and soon enter.
Not enough.
“No,” Lucifer stopped all he was doing and looked up to you, “I need you. I need you inside.” Lucifers eyes widen when you tug at his pants. “You’re playing with fire, darling.” Lucifer warned. But you don’t care. This pain and ache can only be fixed by him.
It’s what your mind is screaming at you, the only thought that was clear. The other part of your rational thinking was hazy. Not thinking about any consequences.
“I don’t care, Lu.” Lucifer shuddered above you. The way you said his name was spreading a warmth in his whole body. Only fueling the fire, you started ignite.
“Don’t you know that fire can burn you.” He stroked the strand that fell on your face back behind your ear. “Then let’s burn together.” Lucifers pants flew across the room and the rest of your clothes followed, till you two were naked.
“Are you sure?” He asked lowly in your ear, and you nod. “Destroy me.” You whispered into his ear. Lucifer breathed in heavy. He runs his shaft on your entrance up and down, coating his tip with his and your pre cum. Without any warning he entered slow, and you moaned at the sensation of being filled.
Lucifer moved out and back in and with the next thrust he went deeper and deeper. Your whole body sang in content of finally being full.
God, you forgot how good sex is.
Lucifers hands moved behind your head, and he pulls you into a Kiss. His thrust became more violent. His mouth left your as he explores your body with it. Bite marks and hickeys litter your body. You two switched position, your ass was in the air and your head pressed on the pillow.
Lucifers dick was bullying in and out of you and his hand slapped against your booty cheek. A whine escaped you. Heavy breaths and skin slapping filled the apartment, and it smells like sex. Lucifers hand softly rubbed the red area on your booty cheek. The moans and groans grew on volume as you two reached your climax.
The air was knocked out of you when Lucifer turned your body around. He wants to see your face when you two finish.
“Bite me.”
The sudden request flew out of your mouth like butter. Without any explanation Lucifer already knew what you mean. You want to mate completely with him.
You gasp when Lucifers teeth pierced through the skin between your shoulder and neck. For a second you only saw white. Lucifer groans your name, and you knew you two would cum any second.
Lucifer was ready to pull out, but you grabbed his hand, and he intertwined them. “Inside.” You breathed and he complies.
....
You breathed in as you laid naked, exhausted, and covered in bite marks. “You’ll get me this meeting, right?” You turned around and watched how Lucifer puts on his shirt as he gazed at you with his glowing red eyes. He laughed bitterly as he buttons up his shirt.
“Well… How can I say it correctly,” Lucifer tapped his claw on his jaw thinking about the correct sentence. “You’ll never leave me.” Frantically you sprung up.
What?
“What do you mean, your majesty?” Your eyes buried a hole in his head, yet Lucifer didn’t care. “We two are mated dummy. The heat will return in a few hours, maybe minutes. You can’t leave me nor can I.”
This was a stupid Idea you two thought.
💫
@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei @cimadreamer @ayanazoldyck @froggybich
Press here to Interact with my Taglist!
A/n: I Apologie for not posting much! The past das were not the best and very rough🫡. Hope you enjoyed<3
btw you look stunning!
#protective lucifer#shapard#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#y/n#lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar x reader#mating#mating circle#kinda yandere at the end#whoopsie
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Azriel in his bonus chapter💀
artists: lucien: mftfernandez | azriel: dominiquewesson
#azriel out here punching air#what is this man so pressed about#maybe he is jealous of elain because she got the mating bond with lucien and not him#I wouldn't blame him who doesn't want lucien#lucien vanserra#pro lucien vanserra#azriel#anti elriel#acotar#anti ic#anti inner circle#acotar critical#acotar memes
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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Five
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.
Warning: Gore, violence, some angst
The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist
Masterlist of Masterlists
Meryl struggled forward, trying to keep from tripping on his floor-length robes. A head of ivory hair trailed out after him at a leisurely pace. A blood red hand at her side gripped a slick shortsword. The blade mimicked the cruel curve of her horns.
You remembered her from the party.
Teal silk and blood and the lake.
Koschei.
Koschei.
Koschei.
His hand dove into the folds of his robe, withdrawing a dull knife. You caught her smile before she dodged Meryl’s swift kick, sword arching down in a swing that cut cleanly through his back leg.
You didn’t stay to watch the second swing that nearly separated Meryl’s head from his shoulders. The street was still eerily silent.
Meryl hadn’t gotten the chance to raise the alarms.
You ran to the other side of your apartment, knocking one of the windows open. The smell of smoke, acrid and bitter, flooded your nose. Your stomach turned, nearly emptying itself of your dinner.
A blanket of haze covered the bottom floor, the flickering of flames beginning to lick up the outer edges of the massive room.
The Alcove - your home - was on fire.
Your apartment was built separately from The Alcove with no direct path linking the two together. Normally you would simply walk down the stairs and enter through one of The Alcove’s main entrances with its hand-carved archways and stone pegasuses. But with the murderous female lurking outside, that was simply not an option.
You pulled the neck of your sweater up and over the lower half of your face, ignoring the stinging of your eyes. You steeled your nerves and slid your foot out, finding purchase on the decorative molding that lined the walls. Many times you’d thought about scaling the walls instead of trekking down dozens of flights of stairs. You’d never actually done it.
The soft skin of your palms protested as you shimmied your way down and then jumped the last ten feet onto the walkway. There was no grace in your movements, and no time to dwell on the rough landing before you began flying down the stairs, begging the Mother and Meryl to give you time to cross the expanse of the library.
Meryl’s apartment lay on the opposite side of The Alcove on the first floor, and unlike your apartment, had a door leading directly to the stacks. The white rune, carved into Meryl’s door, stared at you like the eye of a god.
Some vague myths about ancient giants crossed your mind. They’d been worshiped in these lands before the rise of the High Lords with brains so vast you could climb in through their ears and walk amongst the grooves like a child in a corn maze. You felt like that child now, the familiar turns and patterns of the atheneum slipping away into mist.
You had no patience to walk the last flights of stairs. You threw yourself off the lower walkway, ankle twisted painfully beneath you as you crumpled onto the floor.
Just make it to the door. Just make it to the door.
The first duty of a Librarian was to save the atheneum. Always.
Again that white rune stared at you from across the floor, winking with the flashes of firelight as the flames gorged themselves on book pages.
Save the Alcove.
You ignored the pain in your leg, running towards the door with gritted teeth. Three bodies littered the floor, blood blossoming around colorful robes like roses in springtime.
Save the Alcove.
You wrenched the knife from the sliver in the wall, slicing your palm open with a sharp intake of breath. Warm blood spilled out, dripping onto the floor and then down the wall as you pressed your palm against the rune, muttering the words all Librarians knew by heart - words that would seal The Alcove from the outside world and draw all oxygen from within.
“Beali tchnemonon aschzernai belar-” The rune began to glow, rivers of white light tracing the carving on the door. The doors began to groan as threads of magic shot outward, weaving through the stone and preparing to seal it shut.
“Stop. Say nothing.” A voice said, soft as velvet and hard as scales.
Your tongue froze up, the rune dimming as teeth sank into the soft flesh of your mind and began to tear through your mental shields.
___________
Azriel chewed carefully, washing down the meat with a swig of sweet wine. All throughout dinner Helion had been glowering at him, one hand gripping the golden hilt of his steak knife like he was prepared to aim it between Azriel’s eyes.
“Did you spend the whole day with her?” Feyre had asked him when he’d finally arrived for dinner twenty minutes late.
Everyone else was dressed in their court attire. Even Cassian had changed out of his leathers and was currently pulling at the high collar of his shirt. But not Azriel. He’d arrived late in plain clothes, hair disheveled and face impassive. He gave a nod in response to Feyre’s silent question before settling down beside Cassian. His brother threw him a knowing wink.
Rhysand looked pleased with himself. Feyre looked pleased. Everyone was pleased… everyone but Helion.
“Finally! The Shadowsinger arrives!” The comment rolled off his tongue and fell flat, “Now we can eat.”
“I apologize, Helion. I lost track of time.” Azriel said truthfully. He had lost track of time. He wished he’d lost track of it for longer. Then he might still be in your living room, dreaming about kissing you.
Dinner was a business affair. Theories about Koschei’s next plans punctuated by the appearance of roasted chestnuts, soft-boiled quail eggs, honey rolls, and stuffed duck on the table.
“He can’t escape the lake.” Rhysand said, “Though the gods know he’s trying.”
“He can’t escape yet.” Helion countered, brows furrowed in concern, “There’s a piece we’re missing to this.”
“The Cauldron.” Feyre ran a lazy finger over the lip of her wineglass to disguise the unease settling in her stomach, “He’s searching for it.” She tilted her head towards Azriel, “Az found evidence that some of Koschei’s followers have been breaking into the temples further up north.”
Helion shook his head, “It wouldn’t do them any good to search an old hiding place. And it’s not like the legs of the Cauldron are with the priestesses anymore. They must be looking for something else.”
“What else is in the temples except old books and ceremonial artifacts?” Cassian asked.
“Old books can sometimes be the most powerful objects in the world.” Helion said with a small smirk, “I wouldn’t look down on them so much.”
“Tell that to a sword.”
“Tell that to a two-thousand page text thrown at your head.”
Cassian grinned, “I would dodge it. Easy.”
“With that inflated head of yours, I’d hardly be able to miss.”
Azriel smiled inwardly. That sounded like something you might say. Not even four hours since he’d last seen you and he was missing your gentle smile, the crease in your brows when you read, the occasional jangle of your bracelets when you shook out the cramps in your wrist.
Feyre thought long and hard, staring at the surface of her wine like the answers might materialize there. She couldn’t get her mind off the Cauldron. The most important events that had taken place in the last fifty years could be tied back to its magic. The magic that currently flooded through Nesta and Elain’s veins.
With its power anything seemed possible - even separating a deity like Koschei from the lake where he’d been confined for centuries.
“What if they’re not looking for the Cauldron itself?” Everyone looked at her, waiting to hear the High Lady’s next words. “What if they’re just looking for something tied to it?”
Cassian dropped his knife to the table with a clang.
“Nesta.” He breathed. He immediately reached out across the bond, feeling Nesta stir on the other side. She was still safe in Velaris, although he pitied any poor soul that tried to go after her.
“Or Elain.” Feyre continued.
It’s no secret they were Made. They wouldn’t need to break into a temple to figure that out or to find out where they’re staying. Rhysand sent his bonds down the bond, one hand reaching out to rub her thigh.
Nesta and Elain could handle themselves, but that didn’t mean Feyre could shed the protective nature she’d developed through her formative human years.
Who else then? Who else has taken power from the Cauldron?
Jurian.
He’s human. He has no magic that Koschei could want. And the human queen has been long dead too.
Helion glanced at Cassian who only waved him off. Rhys and Feyre did this often - getting lost in their private conversations and only sharing their thoughts at the very end.
Meanwhile, Azriel was having his own private thoughts.
Immunity, the innate biological process of recognizing and protecting against foreign entities, is a phenomenon that can be extended and applied to magic.
“How does it apply to mating bonds?” Azriel asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room.
The fire crackled steadily, warming your back as you sat hunched over a volume titled “An Exegesis on the Works of Bhenaui The Stone Giant”.
“Hmmm?” You mumbled.
He pointed to the last page of your paper where an introductory sentence on mating bonds had ended abruptly.
“You didn’t finish your thought.”
“Well, that’s because I’m not completely sure what my thoughts are… at least not yet.”
“Would you tell me your thoughts? Even if you’re not sure?”
You motioned for him to hand it over, the papers floating over to you on a phantom hand made of shadows. You flipped through the pages absentmindedly, your previous thoughts coming to mind as you held your work.
“Parents, children, siblings - they all tend to have similar forms of magic. Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”
Azriel nodded. He’d already read that section of your paper. Although the thought of sharing some magical connection with his half-brothers and father made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny your logic.
“I always thought that mating bonds must be some special extension of that. Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”
“Like the difference between two sets of keys, versus a key and a lock.”
“Maybe? I suppose that’s not a terrible analogy to make, but I’m not sure.” You shot him a smile, “You’re beginning to think like a Librarian, Azriel.”
His heart sang in his chest, shadows flurrying around him. You’d quickly learned that his shadows gave away more than his face ever would.
“What an insult to Librarians.” He quipped.
You snorted and shook your head, tossing a pen at his head. He caught it easily, just as you knew he would.
A faint flutter of panic grew in the background of his mind, unprompted and unexpected. He pushed it to the side, focusing his attention back on what you’d told him back at your apartment.
“Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”
Koschei had been brother to The Weaver and The Bone Carver - both dead after centuries, if not more, of confinement to The Prison and The Cottage. It didn’t make sense for him to be searching for them. Perhaps he wanted the Cauldron to bring them back from the dead, but even that seemed like the stretch. Koschei didn’t strike Azriel as the kind of being to care for the safety and life of his siblings.
If Azriel were in Koschei’s position, he wouldn’t be after the Cauldron. Not necessarily. The thing he’d really be dying to know was who had separated him from his power, and how.
“Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”
Like a lock and a key.
“Uh… Azriel?” Cassian gently grabbed Azriel’s shoulder, shaking him.
Inky shadows climbed up his hand, the light of his red siphons swallowed up by the darkness that had begun to pour off of Azriel.
That panic was steadily growing into something he couldn’t ignore and he couldn’t stop thinking of you. You with your brilliant ideas and a theory that he still couldn’t quite grasp, like he was trying to hold salt water in his hands.
“Something-something feels wrong.” Azriel gasped out, a scarred hand clutching at his chest. “Cass, something’s not right. Something’s not right.” He repeated the words until he finally recognized what was wrong.
It wasn’t his panic that he was feeling. It was yours.
___________
You screamed, thrashing about on the floor as you gripped your head between your hands.
Get out. Get out. Get out.
You pulled at your hair, slapped your skull like that would be what it took for the female to relinquish her hold on your mind.
She was buried inside like a parasite - a virus slowly taking over the cellular machinery, copying it all down as she rifled through your memories as easily as a picture book.
You shrank away from her as she lingered on one memory in particular.
It was your fortieth birthday, although you didn’t look any older than eight. Helion sat on the floor, long legs extending beyond the cramped space between the fireplace and the couch. It was a small apartment you shared with your mother with its pale green walls and yellow daisy curtains.
He filled every inch of it with light. His smile was so dazzling you thought he must have been one of the fairytale knights you’d spent every night obsessing over. He certainly played the part, gifting you a wooden pegasus with wings that hovered a foot above the ground when you asked it to.
“You can’t keep doing this, Helion.” You’d stayed hidden at the top of the stairs, your pegasus nuzzling into your side and then going still.
“She’s my daughter, Leda. What am I meant to do?”
“You’re meant to leave us alone.”
“Leda-”
“She’s growing too slowly. You saw her today, she should be fully grown by now.”
“...I know.”
“If anyone finds out who she is… the power she possesses. Mother help us…”
“I know. I’m-I’m sorry, Leda.”
“You can’t keep doing this.”
That was the last childhood memory you’d had of him, and when the pegasus’s magic had worn off, leaving him stiff and immoble, the novelty of having a knight for a father had worn off too.
You were crying now, tears streaming down your ash-stained cheeks as the female above you clicked her forked tongue. Her eyes were two chips of moonstone split by wide, rectangular pupils.
“A High Lord’s bastard.” She sang with pleasure. “How fun.” She leaned down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking it up so forcefully you had to bite your tongue to keep from screaming. “No. No.” She clicked her tongue in disappointment, “Don’t stop. I want to hear you scream. Scream.”
With a roar of anger you latched onto her arm, immediately feeling a flood of memories and emotion pour into your mind.
Sick, twisted satisfaction. Pleasure. Meryl’s decapitated body hastily hidden behind a pillar. When she’d gone down into the lower levels of The Alcove, searching for the diary, she hadn’t expected to see him there. Hadn’t expected him to give her a hard time. Hadn’t expected him to fight back.
The three other fae, slaughtered in haste. Koschei would not be pleased. He would not let her join him on the lake. But she had the book. She had the book.
The female hissed, the disorienting motion of being in your mind while you were in hers causing panic. She’d been trained to keep others out of her mind. She’d endured far more training than you had. So why couldn’t she kick you out?
More memories. More emotions. Rising fear. You soothed it using the training she’d received. She wasn’t the virus. You were. You felt all her memories. The terrible aftermath of war on the continent. The feeling of being burned alive.
The female was trying to break away from you now, but you wouldn’t let her, not even as the smoke grew so thick it clogged your lungs. You felt her memories as if they were your own, and so long as she was in your mind, she was forced to experience it all as well.
His power is beneath the lake. Trapped. Buried. He can’t leave his soul behind. Can’t diminish himself any further. He can’t leave the lake.
Koschei.
Koschei.
Koschei.
The lake. What’s buried beneath the lake?
Andrian. ANDRIAN!!!
Get the key. Get the key. Get the key.
The scream of her brother’s voice as Koschei splits his head in two.
When your eyes burst open they’re so bright the female turns her face away, sobbing. Your blood soaked hand searches the floor for the knife you dropped, the knife you can see is less than a foot away. But you’re not looking at it. She is.
She registers what you plan to do. Every thought of hers reflected in your mind like a ghostly afterimage. But it’s too late.
You grip the knife in your hand.
Slam it through her eye and out the back of her skull.
It’s a strange feeling to be in someone’s mind when they die. To feel like it’s your body slowly fading from existence with one final breath.
The female’s body slumps motionless over yours, and her final memories of her brother play out one last time.
…Then it’s just silence and the crackling of the ever approaching flames.
When Azriel reaches The Alcove, the windows have all burst, angry tongues of fire licking the sky and gasping for breath.
“Y/N!” Azriel roars, shooting off towards the door so hard the cobblestones crack beneath his feet. “Y/N!”
White lights begin to splinter up the stone walls, filling invisible cracks that begin to take the shape of ancient runes. Swirls, symbols, repeating lines trace their way over the windows, sealing them shut as the flames start to hiss in protest, eating up the oxygen faster than they can draw breath.
The door has been blown apart, the inside of The Alcove nothing more than a hurricane of ash and smoke. But when Azriel reaches them, he slams into an impenetrable wall of magic.
“NO!” He crashes against the barrier. Light scatters outward, but holds against the shadows that burst forth from Azriel’s body. Power explodes from his siphons, but still the magic holds.
“Y/N! Y/N!” He flies up to the windows and tries again to no avail.
The bond is still there, burning away in his chest with a passion.
He will not lose you. Not like this. Not today.
He touches back down on the ground, legs braced on the street as blue light begins to wrap around his chest and arms. His shadows mix in with them like ink in a tumultuous sea.
He’s about to let his power flood out when he sees it - two dim pinpricks of light that pass through the barrier as easily as sparrows diving through the air.
You’re nothing more than a gray shadow, your knees and hands coated in a mixture of ash and blood, as you emerge from the roaring flames. Your eyes gleam a pale yellow, seeing and unseeing at the same time. You make it to the front steps and when you stumble, Azriel is there to catch you, one arm looping around your waist and you’re immediately thrust into another memory.
It’s dark and cold in the cellar. So dark that even after two days the most Azriel can do to prove he still exists is to slap his legs, then his arms, then his face. Then he knows he’s still alive. It’s the pain that helps him remember.
“Y/n. Y/n. I need you to look at me.” Your eyes are unfocused, still glowing as Azriel helps you walk forward, one hand clasping yours close to his chest. “Y/n. Y/n. Please. Darling, please.”
His mother sings to him, a gentle, sweet melody that’s filled with more sorrow than words. His hands are heavy with gauze and ointment, the lingering pain magnifying and shooting through his small body whenever he moves them to touch his mother’s face or to wrap his arms around her neck.
But this is the only hour he’ll get with her this week. So he ignores the pain. He savors only the feeling of his mother’s arms around his weak back and the song she sings, hanging onto every word and committing them to memory.
You’re vaguely aware of Helion’s deep voice shouting your name. When he touches you, you can feel his relief as acutely as the rumble of thunder before rain. The emotion rolls over you, calming your heart.
For a brief moment you’re still the little girl he placed on top of the pegasus on your fortieth birthday. For a brief moment your mother is still alive, suppressing the smile on her lips as she watches the creature wobble to life, shake its wings, and begin to fly.
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Author's Note:
We're getting into the action/plot now folks! Hold on tight because I have IDEAS! It's going to take time for me to explain it all in the story, but I promise you I have a plan
Taglist: @rosebunnysblog @icey--stars @laceandsuch @coralseacourt @cherryinsalemverse @flowerprincezz @valeridarkness @annaaaaa88 @deeshag @bluesiphonsbaby @allyjoe755 @sidthedollface2 @auggiesolovey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @transparentmoonglitter @ang-taylorsversion @ssmay123 @just-m-2 @sevikas-whore @lalalucha @svtwonwoow @user707sthings @cherryinsalemverse @evylynny @decrepit-bees-knees @eleganttravelercloud @ghostwritermia @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson @fussel9913 @st0rmyt @glitterypirateduck @mischiefmanagers @waytoomanyteenagefeels @acourtofdreamsandshadows @sakurafrost3-blog @utterlyotterlyx @vickykazuya @venussdovess @xxxalicerogersxx @mattiescove @goldenmagnolias @secret-ly-here @kindaslightlyacidic @brujitafantomatico @venussdovess @xxxalicerogersxx @earth-to-lottie @balsalmic-vinegar @darbuckle21 @justagingerliving
#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel x mate reader#the inner circle#acotar fanfiction#azriel fanfiction#azriel spymaster#azriel fanfic#the shadowsinger and the inkbird#the day court
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Spin the bottle
Jealous Azriel x Reader. Angst/fluff (the usuaaallll)
Summary: A drunken game of spin the bottle with the rest of the IC makes Azriel a grumpy boy. (But it’s actually pretty romantic).
Word count: 2.1k
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This was stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.
You looked up from where the bottle had finally stopped spinning. Flecks of red wine having splattered on the floorboards from what little remained in the deep green bottle, it’s long neck now pointed directly at your High Lord.
It was the eighth bottle of the night, or perhaps the ninth? It hardly mattered, you and your friends were stupidly drunk, so much so that when Cassian had suggested a childish game of spin the bottle with a wiggle of his eyebrows, you had snorted and excitedly agreed.
It had taken a variation of tactics to get the rest of the Inner Circle to play along.
Feyre had giggled, whispering something to her mate who merely winked back at her as they both took a place by the fire.
Mor had clapped in delight, poking fun at Amren who clung to Varian, but when her partner agreed, so had she.
Nesta rolled her eyes at Cassian, but a smirk was set at her lips as he hauled her over his shoulder to the circle that was beginning to form. Even Elain hadn’t given much fight, blushing as she shrugged “If it’s only a kiss.” You had pecked her hands and gave a squeal of delight, pulling her to sit by your side.
That only left the amused, yet still brooding Shadowsinger.
Azriel kept his arms crossed, shaking his head with a stubborn smirk as each of you tried your own way to convince him to play, Some begged, some insulted, and some bargained with unfulfillable promise – all of which rendered useless against the Spymaster.
He leaned against the arm of the chase, dark hair falling in front of his honey-brown eyes. Despite his stubborn front, his wings were slouched and relaxed, Azriel’s tell-sign he was just as tipsy as the rest of you.
“C’mon Az,” you drawled, uncaring that you spoke with a slight slur. “You’ll be the only one not playing.” Dark shadows began to curl in your lap.
Azriel smiled tightly. “You’re all drunk.”
“Oh, and you’re not?”
Calling the shadows back from the distance they had gained towards you, Azriel’s eyes narrowed on you playfully. His smile grew, yet he remained unmoved.
“Leave him be,” Cassian spoke, a hand covering one side of his mouth as if to tell you a secret, but with a volume high enough to ensure everyone would hear. “He’s just brooding because he lost the snowball fight yesterday.”
Azriel stiffened immediately, and spoke with lethal cool. “I did not lose.”
Rhysand grinned, chiming in. “You certainly did.”
“I only lost to a pair of cheats. You’re not supposed to work as a team.”
“Why not give me a big smooch and prove you’re not a loser at this game too, then?” Cassian boasted, arms wide and beckoning, his lips comically puckered.
The rest of you howled in unison, tears forming in your own eyes as you wiped them away. Azriel finally took a place in between you and Feyre, and as far away from Cassian as he could get.
The rules were simple – spin the bottle and kiss whoever it pointed at. If the bottle was to land on a relative, it would automatically direct to the first on their right.
And so the game began. Cassian declared the first round his, the bottle landing swiftly on Varian who merely chuckled. Cassian had grabbed both sides of his face, planting an enthusiastic kiss on his mouth that sounded with a smack of his lips.
“Mmm, tastes like blood,” he teased at Amren, who merely scowled back. The rest of you were in hysterics, and you had to clutch at your stomach to stop it from hurting.
Mor was up next, the bottle reeling to a quick stop on Elain. The kiss was swift, but gentle, and had Elain thanking her with an shy giggle. Mor winked back at the blushing Archeron before returning to her spot.
Feyre had spun the bottle enthusiastically, and tipped her head back and laughed when it landed directly on her mate.
“C’mere darling,” he said smoothly, moving to dip her head back and plant a sensual kiss on her neck before slipping his tongue into her mouth. The group whooped and cheered, before Nesta declared she was to be sick and the couple finally broke their kiss.
Azriel was up next, and Cassian had roared with a cheer as the bottle landed in his direction. ‘Come here big guy!” Azriel had let him kiss him for all of two seconds, and kept a firm hand planted on his brother’s chest to ensure some distance was kept. You were sure you had never laughed harder in your life.
And so it was your turn. You were yet to be kissed, and felt a silly flutter of nerves as you crawled towards the bottle. It slowed to a stop. It’s long neck pointed directly at your High Lord.
“Well well,” Rhys mused, his violet eyes sparkling as a feline grin grew. “Try not to be too jealous, Feyre darling,” he winked at his mate. Feyre laughed, raising her hands in surrender. “I’m only glad it’s not Cassian,” she joked, earning a shove from the General.
Rhys was crouched in front of you now, his face relaxed yet playful. There was no denying his handsomeness – you certainly weren’t unhappy to be kissing him.
Rhys reached to cup your face, and as his long fingers found where your jaw meets your neck, you heard a sharp breath being sucked in from beside you.
Flicking your eyes over to Azriel, you saw his brow pulled in fury, his body completely stiffened and shadows nowhere to be seen. You hadn’t a second to process before Rhys’s lips found yours in a gentle kiss.
A kiss that lasted a mere second, before a cold, harsh voice spoke.
“Stop that.”
You and Rhys both broke away from the kiss. His hands were still on your face as you looked up at Azriel who now stood towering over the two of you, wings spread and chest fuming.
You couldn’t help but gawk at his erratic behaviour. “Azriel, what–?”
“Let go of her.” Azriel was practically growling at his High Lord.
Rhysand didn’t question him, instead he dropped his hands from your face immediately. “I’m sorry,” he said with a hushed voice. “I had no idea.”
The rest of the circle fell silent, each of you stunned by the Shadowinger’s outburst.
With a final fume from his chest and flare of his nostrils, Azriel folded to a winnow, vanishing from the room entirely.
“Well that was unexpected,” Mor spoke with a pull of her brow.
“I’ll say,” Feyre added.
Bringing a hand to your lips, the sensation of Rhys’s lips on yours lingered, and twinge of guilt cast through your stomach.
“Any idea of where he went?” you asked quietly, no longer amused with the game’s antics.
“The Sidra,” Rhys answered shortly, offering you a sorry smile before casting a long look at his mate, an obvious sign of their mind-to-mind exchange.
————
Velaris was freezing this time of year, and even your layers of wool, scarves and a heavy coat couldn’t protect you from the icy bite that blew from over the cold of the river. You found Azriel at a docking pier, solemnly leaning against the railing as the water sloshed below the planks.
There was no sneaking up on the Spymaster, yet he continued to ignore you as you approached.
“Care to explain yourself?” you spoke from some distance, making your way closer to him. His wings twitched at your words and knuckles whitened at their clutch on the railing, but Azriel kept his gaze on the night’s horizon.
You folded his coat over the railing, a small sign for a truce you were unsure was needed. When Azriel left it untouched, you sighed, folding your arms. “Put the coat on, Az.”
Without turning his head, Azriel cast a sideways glance before pulling the large black coat over his arms and wings. He was already a large and broad male, but the coat refined him further. It was quite a handsome look on the Shadowsinger.
“What happened back there?” you poached again.
There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “You wanted him to kiss you.”
Frowning, you were quick to defend yourself. “Not necessarily.”
“You did. I heard your heart fasten. I scented your excitement.”
“It was a game Azriel, one we all agreed to play.”
“I didn’t want to.”
You rolled your eyes then. “Alright Az, I’m sorry we forced you–”
“I didn’t want to play because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else kissing you.”
You gawked at your friend. “Excuse me?”
Azriel had finally turned to face you, his eyes wild and swirling with gold, his frown deep and chest moving fast. You could hear his own heart then, beating far too fast.
“When Rhys looked at you like that, and touched you, and then h-he kissed you… Gods Y/N. You don't understand. It took everything I had to rip him off of you.”
You blinked at Azriel – never had he shown such vulnerability. “Is this an Illyrian thing?”
Azriel shook his head tightly, wild eyes still fixed on you, nostrils flaring yet again.
“Are you jealous?” you collected.
Azriel ignored your statement. “I ache to be the one to kiss you like that, Y/N.”
Your heart skipped a beat then, and you were forced to take a gulp of quick air. “Do you desire me, Azriel?” Something in your core throbbed at the thought.
“Tonight I realised it’s more than that. You have a certain…pull on me,” he said, moving to step closer. “Every time you’re in a room, I feel the need to be near you. And when you leave, something beyond my will begs for me to follow. I feel anxious when you’re away, and unfulfilled if I haven’t seen you or even scented you in hours.”
Your were deadly still, eyes wide as Azriel continued to move closer, drawing a breath through his nose, claiming the smell of you he so desperately needed. A deep hum sounded from him, before scarred hands moved to grasp either side of your arms.
“You have no idea how much control you have over me. You rule me Y/N, dictate my every move, just by simply existing.”
Guilt, confusion, passion and a small glint of hope overwhelmed you as his words sunk in. Could it be? Something so rare sparked by a ridiculous exchange of puppy-love? Your hands moved on their own accord, seeking his to hold. And when your cold fingers slid over his scarred ones, Azriel’s touch ignited a current of warmth through your veins, heating you from the inside out. Your own eyes widened to find his softened, earnest and pleading.
“I never meant to hurt you by kissing Rhys.” Your voice was a whisper.
“I know. Gods, of course I know that. I’m acting rash, I’m aware.” Azriel kept your hands in his, but looked down now, shaking his head. “Mother above, this is insanity!”
“It’s not insanity,” you said softly, stepping closer and bringing a hand to cup his chiselled cheek. “It’s the mating bond.”
Azriel froze then, his eyes locked on yours. “You feel it too?”
“I do now,” you said with a faint smile.
Azriel brow pulled in painful relief. “I heard it snap the moment Rhys’s lips found yours,” he admitted.
You cringed at the thought. “Gods, what an awful way to find out.” You pulled him closer to you, instincts igniting as your body begged to be closer to him, pressed against him bare if you could. “I’m sorry.”
Azriel was silent as he moved to entwine himself with you, strong arms encompassing you, protecting you. For a moment you held each other, savouring the feel of a perfect fit, two pieces of a puzzle having finally interlocked. Your kept your check pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was now a melody to your ears.
Looking up, you trembled in awe of his beauty, gingerly stroking his cheek before rubbing your thumb gently over his bottom lip. A deep sound left his chest then, and it thrilled you – you were tuning him with your touch.
“Be mine?” he asked, biting back his own urges as you leaned on your toes, reaching closer to his face.
“Only yours,” you whispered before pressing your lips against his, indulging in the euphoric sensation of the eternal tether binding you to your mate.
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A/N: Look, I truly believe not all fics have to end with a mating bond. But this one does, ok? Hope you enjoyed, thank you to @aroseinvelaris for the request!!
Also did you spot the slightest Mor x Elain crackship?? If you blink you might have missed it.... but I got excited lol.
Thanks always for reading! MWA
#azriel acotar#jealous azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel angst#azriel fluff#azriel mate#azriel jealous#azriel x you#inner circle fluff#inner circle x reader#acotar fluff#acotar fan fiction#acotar one shot#rhysand x reader#azriel mating bond#sarah j maas#acotar fanfic#acotar spin the bottle
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it's something like he'd throw you his flask to take a swig from and watch you drinkin from it while he leant against the door frame and when he- you- finally got called back on again he'd take a sip from it too real slow like- like it weren't the whiskey what he were tryna savour or- or- maybe something like
Also, bonus:
#Oda if you prepare something even more PAINFUL than this for ZoLu......#One Piece#Gol D. Roger#Rayleigh#Silvers Rayleigh#Gol D Roger#Gold Roger#I too would not be able to act normal for my first mate#I TOO would not be able to act normal for MY CAPTAIN#SIGH. it's all about circle and captains and their first mates for pirates#Kozuki Oden#Wano Arc#Wano Kuni#Wano spoilers
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hi! I'm not exactly sure if you're taking requests, but if you do then I have an idea!
Syzoth x gn/fem (whatever you feel comfy with)
where Syzoth sucks at flirting with *humans* and tries his best to use Zettarian ways to get other's attention but it doesn't work out at all, so he asks johnny cage for advice...
(it can be dabble or just headcanon, whatever you'd like. also thank you if you decide to write it down!)
OMG, YES, I'd love to!
Mating Season
A/n: Omg, I Love this idea. I hope I did it justice. Fun fact: I actually looked up some mating rituals which reptiles and other animals do for this, and I got an eyeful, so I'm traumatized lol.
Tags: MK1, MK1 AU, Request, Fluff, Drabble
C/w: fem!reader, afab reader, courting, mating rituals, maor confession
Syzoth has had feelings for you for quite a while, how could he not You were so loving and warm. You always made him welcome and loved, a much-needed comfort after the loss of his family. He loved being around you you never failed to put a smile on his face. He loves so many things about you that it would take hours to name them all. Others have noticed how head-over-heels in love with you he is. Kung Lao jokes about how you two will be walking down the aisle one day. Though Syzoth doesn't know what this "aisle" is or why you would be walking down it, but he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.
But Syzoth feels unsure, he has just lost his family, or he has just learned of the loss of his family, how possibly could he move on from them so soon? But you are so amazing though, he can't get you off of your mind. He can't help but worry about what life would be like without you. His heart broke at the idea of you and him not being together, he had to try even if you didn't feel the same. After much, he decides to do it, he is going to woo you and, hopefully, make you his mate for life. When it comes to flirting, Syzoth only has ever known the Zetarrian way. But surely that is enough. Surely the mating rituals for humans are no different than it is for Zattarians.
The next moment he sees you he will immediately start the mating rituals. He'll change into his real form to display his colour patterns in their full glory hoping that it'll attract you, but you just compliment him and walk off. He then will go behind you and bump his chin on the back of your head to let you know that he's ready to mate with you, unfortunately, you just think he's being playful and laugh. It appears that his simple wooing practices is not working, so he takes things up more extreme measures. This include giving you dead animal carcasses (or what you hope were animals) as gifts, twigs, leaves and branches for you to make a nest, he introduces you to a nice cave where you can raise your young.
Syzoth is trying his hardest to win your attraction, even going as far as fighting and chasing off potential rivals for your affection even if they were his friends. He has attempted a mating call, but you ran away in fear of the demonic screeching that came out of his mouth. It soon dawns on Syzoth that nothing is working. In fact, he seems to be pushing you further and further away with his advances. He doesn't want to lose you, but he fears that he's scaring you. Everything that was seen as acceptable or good in his homeland seems to be seen as repulsive up here. This was much more complicated in this world than he had ever anticipated. Syzoth can't help but panic, he doesn't want to lose you, he loves you with every fibre of his being. He needs someone, anyone, to help him. Someone who what they're doing when it comes to flirting...
"Well, Well, Well, looks like a certain Romeo needs my help." Johnny Cage Cage said with a smirk as he welcomed Syzoth into his mansion. "I see after you finish helping whoever this 'Romeo' is, can you help me? I desperately need your aid in the wooing of (Y/n)." Syzoth said with a sense of desperation in his voice. "(Y/n), huh?" Johnny said knowingly with an impressed smirk. "She's quite the catch, I don't blame you for trying to tap that.". Syzoth shook his head at this "I've already tried the tapping, but it didn't work. Nothing I do seems to work." There was a sense of desperation Syzoth's, one which Johnny recognized all too well. "Well, you've been to the right place. The ladies love me. Just look at Kitana." "Didn't she break your nose for flirting with her?" "That's beside the point, what is the point is that I am THE ladies man. So if you wanna know to get with (Y/n), I'm you man." Syzoth leans in, both out of intrigue as well as desperation. "What must I do?"
It was evening time now at the Wu Shi Academy. You have found the perfect place to relax after such a stressful day. Though you could not admit it, you also came here in hopes of avoiding Syzoth. He has been acting strangely as of late, you don't know why. You were worried for him, he was scarring you and you didn't know what to do. He seems to be only acting this around you, why? Did you do something to upset him? Does he hate you? Maybe this was some weird Zettarian tradition that you didn't know about. You didn't know, all you knew you could do was give him some space for now, and maybe talk to Liu Kang if things got any worse.
Suddenly, you notice something in the corner of your eye. It was Syzoth. When you see him, you quickly rise to your feet and attempt to leave, hoping that he won't see you. "(Y/n)!" Dammit, he saw you. You turn around to face him, and as you do, you feel your heart racing. This always happens to you whenever you are in his presence, he just has this effect on you. You sometimes lose your train of thought with his smile, the way he says your name gives you butterflies, and many times you have to fight off blushing at every word he says. Syzoth finally catches up to you, you both stand there for some time awkwardly staring at each other, unsure what to say to the other.
Syzoth took a deep breath, he silently prayed that what Johnny told him was right. This was probably his last chance to court you, f he fails now then he won't know what to do next. He's already embarrassed himself around you enough. "I'm...sorry if I've been acting strange around you lately, I-I didn't mean to hurt you." He says with a calm and soothing voice, trying his best to put a charming foot forward. "It's just that you're so amazing and pretty-I mean beautiful-no-I mean- I wasn't-I'm sorry." He said in shame at fumbling his words. He looks at you in the eyes as he clears his voice "I have been acting so weirdly because I was trying to court you the way my people did. Johnny told me that's not how things worked up here, he told me to talk to you and tell you how I feel...well he told me to do other things too but I don't that would end well. Alright, here goes." He inhales and exhales just one more time before he continues. "I am in love with you (Y/n), you make me feel seen whenever you look at me, you make me feel safe when you hold my hand, and you make me feel welcome when you are by my side. Every moment I am with you is an ecstasy I cannot describe. I never want us to end. I wish to be with you for the rest of my days, possibly raise a family together, or not. All I desire is you, for it to be you who comes back to me, I want to feel your flesh against mine, I wish for you to belong to me and me to you. I want you, every last bit of you." He exhales in relief as he finishes. His eyes fall onto you as you process what you just heard. "Please don't break my nose."
It is a most painful second as he waits for a reply. His heart pounds within his chest, he feels sick for some reason, and his eyes stay on you as he pleadingly waits for an answer. At this point, Syzoth begins to lose hope. I have failed. He slowly and silently begins to concede. Perhaps this wasn't meant to be after all.
Syzoth opens his mouth, planning to apologise and leave. But you act first. You throw yourself into arms. Even though this sudden action leaves him confused, he does not hesitate to wrap his arms around you and hold you close. There is smile on your face as you pull away, you continue your barrage of affection by assaulting his face with kisses. Syoth holds you tighter as he returns you kisses. "I'd love to, Syzoth, but let's just takes things slow first." Syzoth only replied with a nod. The smile on his face said everything else. The joy he felt inside felt unmatched to any other feeling he's ever felt, the future suddenly felt brighter for him and you.
#mk1#mortal kombat#mk1 2023#mk x reader#mk x y/n#mortal kombat 1#mk fanfic#mk fandom#mk fanfiction#fanfiction#mortal kombat fanfiction#syzoth#mk syzoth#mk reptile#syzoth x reader#johnny cage#mk johnny#mating#the circle of life#mating ritual#coupling#johnny cage being a wingman#romance#request#taking requests
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Mating bond
What happens when you confess to you closest friend you have found your mate?
Pairing: Eris x Reader
Word count: 674
Warnings: angst, friends to lovers
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
‘Why? Truly what have I done to deserve this?’ Eris laughed mirthlessly questioning what he’d done to deserve such a fate.
As if being born into that damned family wasn’t enough the mother also tried to take the one he loved from him.
The only one keeping him sane after all these torturous years.
Struggling to comprehend what he’d just heard he rose from the leather chair he’d sat in. Sweeping back his hair he tried to keep his feelings under control, to not let the fire within him soar and burn the place down.
He was losing his mind.
His inner peace destroyed, fear begun seizing him.
Walking around the room aimlessly he tried to think of nothing - to forget what he’d just heard. Anything to not slip into the madness that seemed to call to him.
The dark abyss waiting for him to loose himself within.
Is that how father felt when he found out about his mother and Helion?
Tamlin about Feyre and Rhysand?
Their possessiveness suddenly made sense - their insanity too.
Tormented he faced one of the many big windows in his office seeking solace in the moonlight. Looking for solutions how he could prevent her from leaving him, of him taking her. He would give up his court for her. He would murder that bastard mate of hers like he had killed his own. He would do anything to keep her.
Watching him stood the woman he loved rooted in the place she confessed - unaware of his thoughts.
Clutching her red satin dress she tried fighting back her sobs while tears ran down her face. Anguish and rage filled her.
Had she destroyed her only chance of having him? Would he hate her as much as she hated herself? Would he have her even though she was bonded to the Night Courts Spymaster?
‘No’ he roared, whirling around, his blazing eyes locking onto hers.
This time will be different. I will be a better man.
Approaching her with determined strides, he tilted her chin up, softly wiping away her tears with his shaky hands. ‘You are mine! I will kill anyone that dares to take you from me. No mother damned bond will stop me from having you or that cursed mate of yours,’ he seethed.
She nodded offering him a tearful and wry smile. Hope filling her chest of him accepting her despite what she’d revealed.
Somewhat satisfied he released a shaky breath, resting his forehead against hers.
Afraid he might turn into his father he needed to remind himself that she loved him. That she would never betray him or leave him.
He wanted to be strong for her knowing traitorous thoughts and actions were the downfall of his parents marriage.
Sensing his inner turmoil she put her hands onto his in an attempt to calm him.
Locking eyes, she whispered softly ’Eris’.
Tears fell as he closed his eyes at her voice and his trembling lips betrayed a whimper,
‘ Please don’t leave me’, he pleaded.
Her eyes filled with terror, ‘I won’t ever leave you! I love you Eris!’, she cried this time not trying to be quiet.
Breathing hard he kissed her, putting everything he felt into the kiss hoping she would know of his feelings for her.
They both broke down, sinking to the floor by the sofa, devoid of their strength to stand.
Embracing one another tightly they sobbed.
‘Eris you are my soul. I can not breathe without you let alone dream of ever leaving you for a useless mate. You are the only one who loves me unconditionally, the one who never rejected any part of me. This will be just another obstacle we will overcome.’
She kissed his face, cradling him to her chest and rocking him gently.They continued exchanging tender whispers of their love.
Bathed in the dim office, only the moon and the stars bore witness to the moment of their tender love.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
#a court of thorns and roses#anti inner circle#anti azriel#sorry i still love him#eris vanserra#eris x reader#eris acotar#eris x y/n#eris x you#eris angst#eris vandaddy#kinda#azriel angst#autumn court#night court#mating bond#helion spell cleaver#helion acotar#acotar
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first mate oluwande doesnt get paid enough to deal with this
#our flag means death#ofmd#ofmd fanart#blackbonnet#gentlebeard#stede bonnet#edward teach#blackbeard#oluwande#my art#sdjkfnsd quick redraw of a moment that kept circling my mind today#i saw a lot of people ask for izzy to marry them. and while that's incredibly funny im just too fond of first mate oluwande#ok im done with potc redraws for now dsjkfsd i return to my cave now
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tonights acotar thoughts are with the Illyrian women and how rhysand has utterly failed them despite his supposed efforts
Hes ‘allowed’ them to become warriors if they wish. But thats not even the bare minimum. from my memory he acknowledges that he doesnt enforce the wing clipping laws (smooth move) so that’s basically useless and as to be expected of a man, he misses the point of feminism and equality laws. WHERE are the laws and protections for women in marriages?? if the illyrian are so ‘brutal’ and ‘backwards’ the assumption can be made that divorce isn’t a thing unless the man requests it. No women requested divorces and probably no such thing as no fault divorces. As well as forced marriages (which also brings up the consent age) Adding on, what about abortions and other pre natal and natal laws and protections? again, assuming women arent allowed to have abortions or simply any bodily autonomy, where are those decrees rhysand? Im not even getting into the potential of LGBTQ+ illyrians and their rights (Logically there are LGBTQ+ illyrians but ofc sjm wouldn’t mention them)
He makes such a fuss about it being a womans choice (a hypocrite as we see in acosf) yet unless a woman is able too or wants to fight he doesnt seem to care. Which is also a major flaw of sjms writing, women only gain their independence if they can kick ass and fuck as they want. Which is of course valid but thats a very shallow way to view feminism and equality. The whole point is that a woman can choose, wether its to be a warrior or a stay at home mother, but theres nothing done for those women who want that lifestyle.
This has influenced me in my fic writing a lot to where a this topic has become a major focal point in my fic somewhat by accident. I think that logically there would be a rebellion from mostly illyrian women against rhysand, hes promised them so much yet has delivered so little.
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#anti rhysand#anti night court#anti inner circle#im not anti feyre but im disappointed in her character#sjm#sjm critical#an acotar thought exercise if you will#In my fic i have it planned that a prominent female illyrian revolts against rhysand lol#She along with her mates (yes mates) leads a large group of illyrian men women and lgbtq+ out to the spring court with tams help#Shes such a fun character to develop along with her mates and if i can work with my adhd i will hopefully be able to write about them in my#fic i ran out of characters fuck you tumblr let me yap#its late so forgive me for any grammer errors or mistagging#rhysand#this is also a genuine criticism guys i know how yall rhysie fans like to tussel
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tokio dance and mating circles are so back 💕
#mating circles are my favorite#jan peteh#nace jordan#janace#jance#joker out#goteborg#gothenburg#see you soon tour
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Yours
Eris Vanserra x Reader
Warnings: slightly ooc Rhysand and Cassian, kissing, secret relationship, mentions of objectification, mention of Lucien's past, slight angst, fluffy ending.
Summary: Your hidden relationship comes to light, but you won't allow your mate to be disrespected.
Requested by anon
Word Count: 1911
Taglist: @reetriestbr @pandabiiissh
. . .
You blended in seamlessly into the walls of the Autumn Court, your black attire allowing you to blend in with the shadows. Today, however, there was no need for spying, or sneaking around. As your brother’s emissary, you had access to other courts when needed, when Rhysand needed you to represent the Night Court in his place. You had become quite comfortable travelling between courts, making friends with the nobility of some, such as Helion, yet the Autumn Court still sent a slight shiver up your spine.
Perhaps it was Beron’s cruel nature, or his several sons’ objectifying gaze, that made your job so difficult at times, of course not excluding the treatment of your friend Lucien. Not that you’d ever allow your brother or friends to learn of your discomfort carrying out your job in the Autumn Court, lest their protective natures damage the peace between courts.
This particular task had been quite quick to resolve, a simple matter of deciding better trade routes between the courts, and you were quite content to finish up early, thank Beron for his time, and make your exit. Quick and easy, just as Rhysand liked it.
“Y/N?” Your brother’s voice spoke in your head. “Are you finished?”
“Almost, Rhys, no problems. I’ll let you know when I’m leaving, alright?”
“Okay, be safe, love you”
“Love you too,” you managed to reply before the conversation was cut. You adored your older brother, but a bit more faith in your abilities as a diplomatic emissary would be appreciated.
You swiftly exited the house, smiling at passing servants that bowed to you as they passed. As far as they knew, you were preparing to leave, to go back to the Night Court. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself winnow to where you wanted to be more than anything.
The woods of the Autumn Court were breathtaking, a palette of colours filling your senses. Here, in the safety of the trees, you finally focused on the heavy weight on your chest, allowing it to melt away. Before you could take a deep breath, another voice filled your mind.
“My love?”
“I’m here, Darling.”
Strong arms encircled your waist in response, pulling you close. “I missed you.”
Turning in his arms, you looked up into the beautiful amber eyes of Eris Vanserra.
Your mate.
His red hair shone in the sunlight being filtered through the foliage above you, his eyes full of warmth as he looked at you, so different to how he usually was around people.
“I missed you too… it’s getting so difficult to keep the glamour on at all times… it’s beginning to hurt.”
Eris looked at you in concern. “I know, my love, I’m sorry. The bond isn’t supposed to be hidden like this.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Eris.” Reaching up to stroke his cheek, relishing in the feeling of the bond pulse between you both, waves of love pumping through. “I don’t have much time, Rhys will get worried.”
“I know… are you attending Helion’s ball for the courts?”
You nod, resting your head against his strong chest. “Looking forward to it, actually. Will you?”
“In my father’s place, he has no love for social gatherings. Perhaps… we could spend some time together.”
“We will, no matter what, I promise.”
“I love you.”
The words that ring in your mind morning, noon and night. That come with nothing but sincerity.
“I love you too, Eris.”
Reluctantly, so reluctantly, you remove yourself from his hold. “Kiss me?”
His lips on yours was his response, as you both tried to mask the pain of having to keep your relationship a secret. “Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Goodbye, Eris,” was all you could muster, before winnowing away, ensuring the weight on your chest had returned before going back to your family.
Appearing in the main hallway, a voice came from your left.
“Y/N? You didn’t tell me you were leaving.”
“Shit, sorry Rhys. I forgot, I was just eager to leave.”
“It all went well?”
“Of course, brother, some faith would be nice.”
“I just worry about you, sister, the Autumn Court is dangerous.”
“I can handle myself, Rhys.”
“Alright, come, there is food left… if Cassian hasn’t finished it all.” Laughing, you follow Rhysand to the dining room, where Cassian, Azriel, and Feyre sit around. These are your family, you love them, and yet all you really want is for Eris to be part of it, to be accepted as your mate.
As always, his voice rings in your ears. “I love you.”
By the Cauldron, you fucking love him too.
. . .
With your arm in Cassian’s, you follow Rhysand and Feyre into the Day Court’s gorgeous ballroom. Helion himself greets you at the door, kissing both of your cheeks.
“Y/N, don’t you look ravishing.”
Indeed you did, in a sleek silk dress, a deep forest green, with the jewellery to match. You truly felt confident and beautiful, and most of all, powerful. Only you would know who exactly you were trying to impress.
You felt his eyes follow you across the room, even without the bond. Eris and a few of his brothers stood against the far wall, surveying the room. Eris held a drink to his lips, his eyes on you over the rim of the glass. His gaze was piercing, making your skin feel warm in the best way. His eyes landed on your arm in Cassian’s, eyebrows furrowing in such a slight way that only his mate could notice.
“I’m going to get a drink, I’ll be back.” Unlinking your arm from Cassian’s, he hardly notices as he laughs at something Helion says. Azriel watches you go, but says nothing, unsuspecting. As you intended.
Getting a glass of wine, you let your eyes flicker to Eris, now standing by himself, as many other guests try to avoid him. It sends a surge of annoyance and anger through you. How dare they ignore your mate so easily, he is nothing like his father, as you would learn after nights and nights of whispered promises and tearful secrets, secret meetings whenever you could get away from the Night Court.
Taking a slow sip from the glass, your eyes roam over the room. Various faces you recognised stood out to you, conversing and laughing among themselves. It was your own family that caught your attention. Cassian was by Rhysand’s ear, whispering something that made them both laugh subtly. Then you noticed how their eyes kept straying over to where Eris was standing, still alone. They were laughing at him. Laughing at your mate. A flash of anger surged towards you, pushing you forward.
“What is so funny, brother?”
“”I don’t understand why he would even come, surely he knew he would not be accepted”
“Who?” You asked, feigning ignorance to see what his reply would be.
“Eris. It’s not like Beron is liked, I don’t understand why Eris is here.”
“He isn’t his father, surely the peace treaties have proved that to you.” Unwillingly, the bond opened a little bit, not enough to be noticeable, but enough to feel your mate. Enough for him to feel your anger. Gentle streams of serenity flowed through the bond, slightly settling your nerves.
“We don’t truly know him, Y/N, or like him..” Cassian remarked.
Your fingers tightened around your glass, a sign of how fuming you were. It took an extreme level of self control to bite back the words you wished to say. How dare they make such cruel assumptions about him.How dare they mock your mate, just as much of a loved one as Feyre was to Rhys. Instead, you swallowed them. “Excuse me for a moment,I just need some air.”
You excused yourself quickly, avoiding the slightly questioning looks from your family, walking as swiftly as your dress would allow down the nearest corridor, out of sight from prying eyes. You kept walking, until you found an empty room, presumably a guest room. You sat on the chaise, taking deep breaths, running your hand over your face lightly.
The door gently opened and closed behind you. “My love?”
“Eris! You shouldn’t be here…” you said, although your actions contradict your words as you wrapped your arms around his chest, holding him close.
“My mate is upset, of course I’m here. What happened?”
“Just my family’s hypocrisy. I love them, I just wish they’d open their eyes. They… were unkind about you.”
“That explains why the glamour faded a bit.. It doesn’t bother me, my love.”
“It bothers me, you’re my mate, you should be as accepted as Feyre is.”
Eris gently kissed your forehead, before tilting up your chin, looking into your eyes.
“Thank you for protecting me,” he whispered, before leaning in and kissing you, holding you close.
“What is going on here?”
Your brother’s voice rang through the room as you and Eris jumped apart, him instinctively pushing you behind him.
“Rhys, I can explain,” you began.
“What did he do to you?” He was fuming, as the rest of the Inner Circle realised what was going on. “What have you done to her?”
“He’s done nothing, Rhysand! Calm down!” This wasn’t your High Lord speaking, this was your brother and you were not going to let him talk to your mate like that. “Eris is my mate, and you will listen to us.” The bond opened, an unmistakable scent that none of the Illyrians could ignore.
“He cannot be your mate, Y/N! I won’t allow it.” Rhysand said, and Feyre visibly flinched, the only one of your family that didn’t look disgusted.
“Won’t allow it?” You said carefully, enunciating each word. His words were the wrong ones to say to a mated female.
“You don’t need to allow anything, my lord. Can’t you feel the bond we have? Do you not realise that I would leave you all to be with him. Like you would for Feyre.”
Your brother flinched at his title being used so bitingly, and at your declaration. “We can’t trust him, what if he’s like his father?”
Behind you, a pang of pain struck down the bond from Eris, staying silent as he knew he could be of no help in this argument.
“Don’t you dare compare him to Beron! You are such a hypocrite, Rhysand, think about our own father. I will not allow you to disrespect my mate, not now, not ever.”
Before Rhysand or any of the Inner Circle could interrupt, Feyre walked forward, taking your hand, your shoulders heaving with anger. “Eris is welcome in the Night Court, as your mate and as one of us.”
“Fey-”
“I am High Lady, my word is law. Y/N, you are my sister, and I can tell that what you have is genuine. It is settled. Come, Rhys, Helion will wonder where we are.”
They looked like they wanted to argue, but a few harsh snarls from you silenced them. Your family slowly left, and you all but fell into Eris’ chest again.
“You were brilliant, my love, truly.”
“They’ll come around, thank the Cauldron for Feyre.”
“I can love you in public now, whenever I want. No more concealing the bond.”
“Never again. You’re my mate, Eris, any obstacles that come we’ll face together.” Pressing your forehead against his, you allowed yourself to relish in the euphoric feeling of the mating bond.
Your Eris. Your mate.
#eris vanserra#eris x reader#eris vanserra x reader#acotar x reader#acotar#a court of thorns and roses x reader#a court of thorns and roses#my writing#mate!reader#the inner circle
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#At least feyre got some salt in them eggs#i wish nesta was like: you made me indirectly fae and made me abandoning my human life#and you out here crying because I give your mates money to the slumps of velaris taverns#which you didn't give a shit about if it wasn't for me#acotar critical#sjm critical#anti sjm#anti acotar#anti ic#anti inner circle#anti feyre#pro nesta
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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Two
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.
Warning: None :)
The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist
Masterlist of Masterlists
“The sun’s barely gone down!” Cassian grumbled, following behind Helion, Rhysand, and Feyre as they walked the cobblestone streets of the Day Court. Every block of the small city contained at least two local bookstores, one cafe that also sold books, one flower shop that also sold books, and/or a small glass box filled with - as anyone could have guessed - more books to be given away for free.
Helion chuckled, “You’re not in the Night Court any more. My people are early to bed, early to rise. Unless of course you spend a night with me.” He winked at Cassian, who had the sense to blush. Indeed the Night Court members had been shocked when the party cleared out not even two hours after the sun had slipped beneath the ground.
Aside from the small scale bookstores which housed the most popular and recently published novels, every sector of the Day Court also had between one to three athenaeum’s - elaborate buildings of ivory stone laced with filigree and windows that lit up like the glowing eyes of an ancient beast. They were the pride and joy of all Day Court members. The windows flickered and shone with the magic used to protect the volumes from the sun. Even as the neighborhood lights slowly winked out, Azriel could track the diligent minds scouring the brightly lit shelves. There was a loving madness in their hunched backs, craned necks, and squinting eyes.
As their troupe reached The Alcove, one of the smaller and cozier athenaeum’s, Azriel couldn’t help but imagine you in a similar display of passionate madness, when you forgot about the world around you and could actually relax.
The Alcove specialized in housing diaries and novels of everyday comforts - quiet, unassuming stories that could steal your heart as swiftly as the grandest tales of war and romance, but with much more discretion. Here, the knowledge pressed between pages with ink was full of warmth and subtlety. The others in your cohort had scorned you for your choice in The Alcove. Why would anyone choose such a dull place to live and work? Why not be surrounded by books on war tactics or history or religion or biology? Someplace useful and worthy of a Librarian’s gifts. But The Alcove had offered you something you’d missed since your mother’s death - a sense of home.
You sat by the bay windows overlooking the darkened street below, breathing in the crisp and cool air that snuck in through the glass. On the other side of your apartment, a similar window overlooked The Alcove’s interior. Hundreds of mahogany shelves lined the high walls of the octagonal building with its signature domed roof. Grand staircases of gold twisted their way up from the ground, connecting to walkways that gave easier access to the volumes housed higher up the walls.
It was a blessing in disguise that you’d chosen to sit on this side of your apartment. Otherwise you would have never seen the Shadowsinger watching you with careful consideration, his eyes faintly glowing like the eyes of a cat. He raised one gloved hand up at you in a wave, a solitary gesture as the rest of his companions and Helion walked towards the stairs that led up to your apartment entrance.
He saw your mouth open in a shocked oh and couldn’t help the faintest smile gracing his lips as you disappeared from view.
“Oh shit.” You sprang up from your seat, eyes madly racing over the contents of your apartment. You were in the middle of a research project on magical signatures and your living space reflected the madness in your mind. Books lay open on the floor, on the desk, on the coffee table surrounded by carefully documented notes and half-scribbled ideas in equal measure. You wouldn’t be able to clean it up in time and, quite frankly, you had no interest in disrupting the chaotic organization. Did you really care about impressing the Night Court and Helion?
The terrifying answer was, yes.
The dining room.
It rarely saw use since you were disinclined to receive guests, and had more recently been repurposed to house stacks of romance novels… best not to let anyone see those…
In the five minutes it took for Helion and the members of the Inner Circle to climb up the dozen flights of stairs, and knock on your door, you’d successfully managed to hide all the smutty romance books in your bedroom, throw a table cloth and candle on top of the dining table, put away the dried dishes that had been displaced on the kitchen countertops, and set a kettle on the stove. Was there anything more that could be done?
Helion smiled brightly when you made your appearance, keeping the door slightly ajar to keep the worst of the living room out of sight. Perhaps this would be a short visit and they wouldn’t even ask to come inside.
“Y/n!” Helion said with a grin, “I present to you the Inner Circle of the Night Court.” He gestured with a grand flourish to some of the most beautiful fae you’d ever had the honor of witnessing.
“Some of us at least.” The High Lord’s voice was liquid honey and filled with enough charisma to seduce a nun.
“The most important ones.” The Lord of Bloodshed said with a boyish grin. The faint scar on his cheek pulled back with his smile.
“I’ll let Nesta know you said that.” The High Lady had swapped out her dress for a more simple pair of black slacks and a billowing shirt that cinched in at the waist, flowing over her body like smoke on water.
“Wait, no. Feyre, I was only joking. Feyre-”
She laughed, tipping her head back while her husband and mate looked on with a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t expected to see. It wasn’t the love that shocked you so much as the casualness of it. High Lords and Lady’s - from the limited experience you had reading about them in books - were either unreadable or such outrageous flirts they looked ready to jump into the bones of anything that could stand upright or lay down for long enough. Both methods were appropriate to hide their true feelings, but Rhysand and Feyre seemed to take another approach entirely.
Helion coughed when you made no move to introduce yourself, still shell-shocked at the caliber of guests currently at your door, “And to the Inner Circle of the Night Court, I present Y/n Y/l/n. My dear friend and one of the most talented researchers I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.”
“We’ve heard so much about you.” Feyre said, moving forward on instinct to embrace you. She stopped immediately when she saw you flinch back, but recovered quickly, smiling brightly, “My name is Feyre, and this is my mate Rhysand,” The High Lord tipped an imaginary hat, “And his brothers, Cassian and Azriel.”
“It’s an honor to meet you.” You said politely.
“The honor is all ours.” Rhysand said. He held Feyre closer to his side, one hand ghosting close to her stomach in memory of the child that had grown there not even two years ago. “Helion told us everything you did. Our daughter is alive and well thanks to you, as is my mate.”
You blinked in surprise. You didn’t know Helion had told them about that.
“Oh um, it was a joint effort. My High Lord is too kind.” You said with a respectful dip of your head and all at once your manners flooded into your brain again, “Please, come in.”
You sheepishly opened the door further, allowing the two High Lords and High Lady to grace your apartment. The Illyrians crossed the threshold last. Muscular, leathery wings rippled with power and prestige and it was incredible they managed to stay upright, let alone keep them from dragging on the floor.
You made a mental note to revisit some old anatomy texts on winged fae.
“I um,” You hurried to the kitchen, hearing the kettle start to screech, “I apologize. I wasn’t prepared for guests.” The screaming stopped and you remembered that you didn’t have any matching tea sets.
You reached into the cupboards, face blushing at the assortment of novelty mugs you’d acquired over the years. Hardly fit for a children’s tea party let alone some of the most powerful fae to have ever existed.
“There will be no apologies from you, tonight, my dear.” Helion said with a charming smile, “Not after we’ve barged into your home uninvited and taken over your dining table.”
From over the island you saw that Helion had already settled down at the table, the others following suit. Everyone except for the Shadowsinger.
He lingered by the kitchen archway, keeping a respectful distance as you poured boiling water into the teapot over a mixture of chrysanthemum and rosehip.
“Would you like any help?” He gestured to the tray now loaded with the teapot, cups, and a platter of biscuits that shook in your hands.
“Oh,” You stared at his outstretched hand, soft black leather molded over graceful fingers. “No, that’s alright. I can do it. But thank you for offering.” You stood face to face with him, silently begging him with your eyes to move to the table with the others so you wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of touching him.
His hand quickly dropped to his side, then slid behind his back. You caught the flash of hurt in his eyes before he masked it.
“There are some cookies in the living room!” You said a little too loudly, “On top of the coffee table. If-if you wouldn’t mind bringing those-” The Shadowsinger was already gone on his mission and you breathed a sigh of relief.
There were more books on the floor than swords on a battlefield. Azriel stepped over them gently, careful not to disturb the precarious arrangement. Books on anatomy, microbiology, human medicine, and magical theory flared outward, tracing the path of Y/n’s mind. Azriel walked it with wonder at the brilliance hidden within the midnight thoughts that had been spilled on paper, before being organized later on with a loving hand. Because that’s what this all spelled out to him - some chaotic, maddening love. He was almost jealous not to be on the receiving end of it… almost.
He saw the platter on the table, but ignored it for the pile of books by the windowsill. These ones were different from the rest. Older and more worn. The bindings were cracked and flexible after being read hundreds of times. He could even trace the faint outlines of your fingers on the leather bindings where natural oils had eaten away at the dye.
He read over the titles and committed them to memory for no other reason than the fact that he liked things that had been well loved.
“I made a mistake don’t-”
Azriel straightened up, color washing over his cheeks as he turned to face you in a sea of paper and leather.
Without thinking, he’d fallen into old habits of poking through people’s belongings. There was a reason Rhysand had made him Spymaster of the Night Court after all.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“Did you eat a cookie?” You blurted out in a panic.
“No, no I didn’t.”
Your shoulders dropped in relief, one hand brushing back your hair. Azriel caught sight of your ink stained fingertips, and the faint mark they left on your temple.
“Oh thank the Mother.” You muttered under your breath, stealing a glance over your shoulder to the dining room where Helion was playing host in your stead and doing a far better job than you would have been capable of.
“Are they poisoned?” Azriel asked, but the joke fell flat upon seeing the horror in your face.
“No! No, that's not why-I should explain myself better. I would never dare try and poison you. Or anyone for that matter!” You scrunched your eyes shut, face burning brighter than the sun at noon.
I’m a fool. I’m making a fool of myself. He’s going to think I’m an absolute idiot. And right after Helion called me a gifted researcher. What a fucking lie.
Azriel, the blessing in disguise that he was, gave you a moment to collect yourself, pretending to find more interest in a volume on snake venom that was laid open on the ottoman.
“A friend baked those for me.” You finally said.
Azriel nodded, a faint smile gracing his face and it caught you off guard. He was beautiful, there was no doubting it so long as you had eyes. What had surprised you was the faint slivers of warmth behind the facade of the cold, brooding Shadowsinger. It was… surprisingly comforting to be standing in a room with him, just the two of you. It was certainly better than the party you’d unceremoniously winnowed out of earlier that day.
“I would never hold it against you if you wanted to save those for yourself.”
Your lips twisted in disgust, “Oh gods no, Cherp is a terrible cook.”
“Cherp?”
“He’s another Librarian I know.” Probably the closest thing to a friend I have. But you weren’t about to tell the Shadowsinger that. “He specializes in chemistry and food history.”
“He’s a food historian?”
“Yes.”
“And yet he’s a terrible cook?” The Shadowsinger tilted his head to the side.
The corner of your mouth tipped up, “The worst.”
“How is that possible?”
You gave it a thought, eyes darting around the walls like the answer was hidden behind paint, “Do you know how many different types of eggs there are, um,” You weren’t sure what to call him.
“Azriel. Call me, Azriel.”
“Azriel.” You said, testing out the shape of his name. You liked it.
“Do you know how many different types of eggs there are, Azriel?”
He cocked his head to the side, “I do not.”
“Thousands, Azriel. Thousands. If I told you to bake a cake with an egg, would you know I meant a chicken egg?” This time you didn’t wait for an answer, “Because you’d be surprised how quickly facts we consider ‘common knowledge’ disappear. Will people know we meant chicken eggs 1 million years from now? Perhaps not! All this to say that when Cherp follows recipes, he usually doesn’t have the knowledge to make it correctly and they turn out bland at best, inedible and poisonous at worst.”
Azriel tipped his head back and laughed, prompting you to explain further, “He once spent ten years researching the evolution of average spoon sizes because so many of his recipes were measured in spoonfuls.”
Azriel smirked, “Is this what you academics get yourselves so worried about?”
You couldn’t tell if he was ridiculing you or not, but the sincerity in his hazel eyes said he wasn’t. “Well we...among other things, yes, I suppose that is something we concern ourselves with…”
“Y/n!” Helion called from the other room, “Stop romancing the Shadowsinger and join us at the table. It’s a futile effort. I’ve been trying for centuries.”
Your face turned a brighter shade of red as you watched Azriel pick his way through the empty spots on the floor. You pressed yourself against the wall to let him pass, a fact that didn’t escape his notice. And when he took a seat at the table, you ignored the unoccupied seat next to him, preferring to stand behind the island like a woodland creature ready to dive into their den at a moment’s notice.
His lips flattened. He’d hoped to make you more comfortable around him after the disastrous events at the party, going so far as to hide the shadows that were clamoring for release. He should’ve known better than to assume one conversation about the historical accuracy of egg recipes would make that discomfort go away.
From your island you tossed pleasantries back and forth like it was a game. But you couldn’t help the stiffness in your posture, the hesitation in your voice when they asked you about your life.
“I’m a Librarian.” You’d first answered, as if it were all that needed to be said. But they pressed onwards, tried to make you laugh. Cassian, especially, liked to poke fun, and despite your best efforts, you laughed.
“All these libraries would make Nesta go feral. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself.”
“What kind of books does she like to read?” You asked, refilling the kettle as the cloudy sky outside darkened into a rich purple-black.
Cassian coughed, face turning red, “Romance.” He answered simply.
“Smutty romance.” The High Lord said, punching Cassian in the arm. His face turned redder.
“Lucky you,” Helion said with a wink that had Feyre bursting out into laughter. It was no secret that Helion had added Nesta onto his list of fae he’d one day like to have in his bed.
“There is an athenaeum that specializes in romance, and there’s no shortage of those sorts of novels… if you’re interested.” You said, hiding your face behind a sip of tea.
“And how would you know about that?” Feyre asked teasingly.
“I… am a Librarian. I know-I know things.” You sputtered unconvincingly. “I went once. Purely for research purposes.”
Azriel gave her a look, a look that said he somehow knew of the eight raunchy books that graced your bedside table and had been well-read indeed.
As the conversation evolved to less embarrassing topics, you were struck by the fact that you were actually enjoying yourself. It was a far cry from the parties that you’d previously been invited to. There was an ease to the Inner Circle. A familial love that flowed off them as easy as water off a whetstone. It was something you hadn’t experienced in quite some time.
Azriel noticed when you fell silent, your mind carried away to more sobering thoughts than Cassian’s most recent travels to the Human Lands. Feyre noticed as well and made her surprise at the time look natural and unscripted.
“Day Court members are early to bed and early to rise aren’t you? I’m sorry we’ve taken up so much of your time.” She said, gently pulling Rhysand up with her as she stood.
“No, not at all. Thank you for coming. I-I hope your daughter is doing well.” Was that an appropriate thing to say? Perhaps it was too threatening to comment on the wellbeing of a High Lord and High Lady’s child. But Feyre didn’t find any fault with that, a glassy look sliding over her eyes as Mor let Feyre into her mind so she could look at little Velaria dozing away in her aunt’s arms back home.
“She’s getting to be more and more of a handful everyday.”
“I wonder where she gets that from?” Cassian chimed in, throwing Rhysand a look as they collected their coats and slowly made their way over to the front door.
Rhysand threw his hand to his chest in indignation, “I was practically an angel.”
Cassian snorted, “More like the devil.”
Feyre rolled her eyes, shuffling the pair out the door into the still night.
Azriel once again lingered behind, the last to leave behind Helion. He stepped out into the night-chilled air, the edges of him disappearing like the darkness had come to reclaim him.
“It was lovely to meet you, Y/n, the Librarian.” He said, dipping into a shallow bow.
“It was lovely to meet you, Azriel…the Shadowsinger.”
He smiled shyly, then froze, the smile slipping off his face into a look of shock. You glanced over your shoulder, missing the explosion of shadows that spilled out from him.
You leapt back upon feeling their cool touch wrapping around you. There was a curiosity to the way they wound themselves through your hair and got tangled up in the folds of your dress. But thankfully, they carried no memories with them. No feelings but a faint relief and comfort that washed over you and gave you back your breath. For the first time in years you were experiencing a touch that you could handle. A touch that was stillness and peace.
“Is everything alright?” You finally looked back at Azriel, his eyes blown open and panicked.
He was not a man of many words. Never had been, never would be. But he wished he could speak everything on his mind.
You’re my mate. You’re my mate. You’re my mate. You’re the one I’ve been waiting over 500 hundred years for.
But when he saw the concern in your eyes, the gentle tilt of your head that exposed the curve of your neck, he knew it wasn’t the time.
“I-I have to go.”
This time it was his turn to disappear. He swallowed his words, forced down the bond that now burned in his chest with the light of a thousand suns, and fled past the shocked faces of his family members before shooting off into the night sky.
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Author's Note:
Does this batboy deserve a nerdy mate to tease and have fun with? Yes. I will take no criticism (just kidding if you have thoughts about how my writing is, let me know, just be kind and respectful about it).
Love,
Florence B.
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#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x mate reader#inner circle#azriel acotar#the shadowsinger and the inkbird#acotar fanfiction#acotar#helion acotar#helion spell cleaver
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Overwritten – Part 8
Azriel x Reader
Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel.
Warnings: None
Words: 2,156
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Part 8 ∇
Azriel’s scent hit you the moment you opened the door. It was fresh, yet primal, laced with sentiment that you couldn't yet remember.
Triggered by smell alone, the voice in your mind woke. Be it Hybern or someone else, you didn't know – but it cleared it’s throat, readying for it’s part. You swallowed quickly, layering your will on top, smothering that voice with sheer stubbornness. It would not have a hold on you any longer.
Azriel stood the moment you entered. His hands were clasped in front of him in a forced manner, but his eyes – oh his eyes – they swirled with longing, more golden than any of the lights in the room. Your gaze latched with his, unable to break away. Kill him, the voice sounded in your head. You squashed it with your foot.
It was a wonder how you made it to your seat across the Shadowsinger, neither of you breaking your stare. But here you sat, your hands folded in your lap, Feyre at your side as promised. Rhys leaned against Azriel’s chair, his arms crossed against his chest. You were glad for the casualness he was able to fake. No one dared to say anything, and you looked across them before realising they were waiting for you.
With a gentle clear of your throat, you took a small breath. “Hello,” was all that came out.
Even at those words, you saw Azriel’s tension ease, his eyebrows pulling slightly upwards, the hint of a smile at his lips. “Hello,” he responded back, his voice smooth and sweet like honey, sending a shiver down your spine.
This is a trap, the voice said again. You stiffened at how close it spoke in your ear, and moved your hands slowly to grip the arms of your chair, grounding yourself.
Azriel noted your tension, his head dropping in a quiet display of sympathy. “How are you feeling?”
Well, that was a difficult question to answer.
“Alright, I suppose.” A beat of silence. “How are you?” you asked shyly.
Another soft smile found his lips. Gods, he really was beautiful. “I’m much better seeing you.”
A blush tinted your cheeks then. You hadn't realised how awkward and unnatural this encounter would be, it was as if he was courting you for the first time. In a way, you supposed he was.
“I want to apologise,” you said, eyeing the Shadowsinger up and down. Azriel quirked his brow at you, confusion racking his handsome features. “I heard that flying with Cassian had caused some… tension. And I’m sorry, I know this is hard for you too, and it was never my intention to hurt you.”
Azriel dropped his head to his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook it from side to side. Attack now, while he’s not looking! You gritted your teeth, swatting that voice to the depths of your mind. Fool! it spat from much further away.
“My mate, as selfless as ever,” he said without looking up. You cast your eyes to Rhys, who offered you a sorry smile.
Azriel looked up then, his eyes finding yours, his expression serious with one hand braced on his chest. “It is I who should be apologising to you.” You frowned in response. “Being taken and brainwashed, the pain and your torture you have endured… it happened because of me.” Azriel was gently shaking his head, his shame evident through the hunch of his shoulders.
Is this what he thought? Did he truly blame himself? “I don't believe that’s true,” you said softly.
“You are my mate, and it is my duty to protect you. Not only did they take you from me, but I was unable to find you in time to stop…,” Azriel took a breath then, choosing his words carefully. With a quick clear of his throat, he continued. “To stop them from hurting you.”
You caught the hint of tears in the Shadowsinger’s eyes, his face twisted and tortured. It was one thing to know he was hurting just as much as you, but it was another to see it displayed in all his earnest.
“I don’t blame you Azriel. Not for one part of it.”
“Of course you don’t. You would never.” Azriel’s assurance of how you would respond was so strange, he knew you better than you knew yourself. “But I will never stop being sorry that you were hurt in so many ways, it is something I cannot forgive myself for.”
You watched him carefully, the pain that bought his brow to clench is such a way, the quiver in his lip, the way he moved his scared hands, one always on his heart, sincerity pouring from him as he gave the apology he had waited months to say. You took him in – how different this male was from the version Hybern had created in your mind.
“I only blame Hybern,” you said stiffly, your jaw clenching as a migraine brewed at his mention. It was still hard to talk about him.
Azriel’s eyes darkened in response as he nodded tightly. “He will pay for what he did. And then some.” His voice was dangerous now, predatory even. You clenched the arms of the chair tighter, unable to help the skip of your heart. Azriel, attune to the slightest of your behaviours, immediately softened as he watched your knuckles turn white.
You took a deep breath in, looking through the window that faced the city of Starlight. Dusk had began to set, and the lights of Velaris twinkled in the distance.
“I’m trying to remember our life together,” you spoke, your gaze unmoving from the movement of the city beyond.
“What do you remember?”
“Nothing,” you said flatly. “I only know what happened.”
“And what is it you know?”
“I know I was taken by Hybern on a mission, or a trap rather – a plan he had all along. I know his intention was to use me to hurt you and our family, he told me that himself many times. He said that he would ruin the Night Court from within, and that I was his weapon.”
Azriel’s frown deepened, his own knuckles turning white as he clasped his hands tighter. Feyre’s hand was on your shoulder then – a gentle, reassuring touch.
“It’s alright Y/N,” she spoke softly. “We got you back.”
You nodded tightly, unable to stop the twist of guilt in your stomach. In many ways, Hybern had already won. You had torn the Inner Circle apart from within – it was just today that Azriel fought Cassian because of you.
Suppressing your thoughts with the slight shake of your head, you continued. “I also know we had a life before that, here in Velaris. I know that you are all my family. And that we were happily mated.”
Azriel nodded with a soft smile. “That’s right.”
“I’ve learnt to trust that you have my best intentions at heart. But regardless, I don’t remember my life, who I am, let alone our mateship.”
Azriel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he levelled a look at you. “Y/N. There is no expectation to remember–”
“I want to,” you interrupted him, biting the quiver on your lip.
“I know,” he sighed. “And I’m beyond grateful that you are trying, I know it’s exhausting. But look at how far you’ve come. I am proud that–”
Azriel was interrupted by a small shriek on the other side of the library doors, before a small flurry of night began to swirl in front of you. You all jumped to a stand as Elain burst through the doors.
“Nyx!” she called in a panic.
You stared with wide eyes as the swirls of night revealed the blue-eyed child before he ran to you, clutching at your legs. “Aunty Y/N! I missed you!”
Your body turned to stone, freezing so still you didn't dare to even breath.
It was as if the sequence of events that followed unfolded in slow motion.
Rhys had leapt from his position, one hand outstretched as he reached for Nyx, his eyes wide in shock. Azriel’s shadows raced the High Lord to his child, the Spymaster eerily still as he eyed you intensely. Elain was running across the room, racing to the child who still clung to your leggings and had obviously escaped her. Feyre stood frozen, her hands over her mouth, the beginnings of maternal instinct brewing behind those grey-blue eyes.
Behind you, Mor and Cassian burst into the room, the tinge of Cassian’s dried blood hitting your nose as his injuries healed. You could hear Mor gasp, both of them halting by the doorway.
Every one of them stopped a steps distance away from you, halting to see what you would do next, too afraid to come any closer. Instead they watched, waited, as if you were an rabid animal in a cage.
Nyx’s tubby hands still clung to your calves, his face buried into you as he squeezed you tightly.
You stared down at the child, your fists clenched and jaw so tight it ached. A dark voice snickered in the back of your mind. No! You would not lose yourself, not now.
“Aunty Y/N?” Nyx looked up at you, black curls falling loosely, his sapphire eyes as innocent as they come.
You allowed yourself one short breath. “H-hello Nyx,” you managed to say without frowning, and without losing yourself all together.
Feyre was on him then, her movements swift as she pried her sons hands from your legs, eyeing you with every move that she made. Your heart sunk at the way she looked at you – someone, no, something vicious, unpredictable, not to be trusted. There was not a hint of kindness in her face, and it broke your heart.
“That’s enough Nyx, Aunty needs to rest.” Feyre hauled a protesting Nyx into her arms, winnowing out of the room before he could cry.
There was a beat of silence in the room after she left, no one daring to move.
“I am so sorry,” Elain whispered from behind you. “I turned away for one second and–”
Rhys raised his hand. “It’s alright Elain, no harm, no foul.”
But you stared straight ahead, your body rigid, nails pressed so hard into your palms you felt the familiar wounds reopen. Tears brewed in your eyes, and you blinked to release the well that had built.
“Y/N,” Azriel said, his voice cautious. He didn't dare reach for you.
“I would never hurt a child,” you breathed, your voice shaky. To see how quickly Nyx was taken away, how everyone eyed you like an untamed animal. Did they truly believe that you would hurt something as innocent as that boy? You were devastated.
Blinking more quickly now, you tried to catch yourself before you truly started crying. “Please, please. I would never harm him, or any child. You must know that.” You glanced around the room, pleading to the rest of your family for them to see the good in you. But they kept their distance, their distrust as evident as ever. Though so different from the months of loneliness you endured in Hybern’s cell, somehow this was equally as isolating.
“Y/N,” Azriel said again, his voice more gentle, as if asking to approach.
“Please. I-I couldn’t, I would n-never hurt him.” Your words were stuttered as panic rose within you. What kind of monster had you become?
It was Rhys who said “We know, Y/N. We know.”
And that’s when you fell apart, crumpling to your knees as sobs racked through you, your body shaking uncontrollably. It took every ounce of willpower you had to not change back, that vicious, hideous voice cackling in the back of your mind, delighting in your misery. Torn apart from within. Hybern had truly won – you knew that now, and hated yourself for it.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said over and over again, holding your knees to your chest as you rocked on the floor of the library.
Azriel’s shadows reached you before he did, curling around your body as they provided a blanket of cold comfort. Azriel placed a gentle hand was on your back, and despite your wince in response to his touch, his face was assured, certain of what you needed as he felt for you through the bond. The two sides of the tether finally touched, warming and twining together. You hadn't realised how much you called for him within, but now that he was here – it all made sense.
He crouched next to you, encompassing you in his arms. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured, pulling you tighter as he sheltered you from yourself. And to everyone’s surprise, even your own, you let him.
Through your tears, you didn't notice the library fading as Azriel winnowed you away.
————
Part 9 >>>
AN: Did someone say angst? Because there’s more where this came from too... Thanks for reading, I LOVE hearing your thoughts and feedback, so drop a comment anytime. And also to join the tag list. MWA ❤️
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the way those people treat nesta never fails to make me uncomfortable and disappointed
#just read the ember and randall bonus chapter#and what the hell man#this includes her pussy-ass quote unquote mate btw#nesta azriel lucien >>> everyone else#free nesta#anti rhysand#anti rhys#anti inner circle#nesta deserves better#nesta#nesta archeron#ember quinlan
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The purpose of the mating bond (TL;DR at the bottom)
I was thinking about the mating bond (and consequently how much I hate it) and I started wondering about it's purpose. Apologies: This is barely organized rambling.
Our current explanations are: to create the most powerful offspring, and that the mates are perfect equals. We know its not romance since there are examples of unhappy mates so I'm ignoring that.
Rhysand suspected he was Feyre's mate while she was still human, aka before she was a high fae, and they were still mated after she was. This means that the bond doesn't care about physical bodies, which would play a part in powerful children since fae are just supposed to be so much better than humans in EVERY WAY. Therefore it had nothing do with offspring, but knowing SJM Nyx is gonna be even more powerful as an adult because her favs need to be worshipped like gods.
If the purpose was to create the most powerful offspring that wouldn't even work logistically? The two most powerful beings being mated would work, but everyone after that, not so much. Its kinda weird to explain so imagine 4 fae, their power ranking aligning with their number. 1 & 2 are mated because as the most powerful, their children would then also be the most powerful. With Rhys logic, 3 & 4 would be mated. But 3 & 4 child would be much less powerful than a 1 & 3 child, so that mate bond wouldn't produce the most powerful offspring. Of course the mother could just go by pairing the next most powerful people, but we've seen examples where even then that's not what happens. Of course unique combinations of genes could lead to powerful kids without the need of powerful parents, but considering Rhysand's high lord father was mated with an average Illyrian mother, that doesn't always seem to be the case.
Okay so power aside, the other explanation is that the two mates are two equal halves. Sure? I guess? But that seems to be a product of being mated rather than the reason. Rhysand's parents had huge power imbalances and their personalities didn't mesh. Sure, you could be equal without compatible personalities but power and livelihood? I find it hard to believe.
The mating bond is so inconvenient for it to be a reasonable way of getting any offspring produced in the first place. Rhysand and Cassian were both mated to people from the human world, of course those humans came to the fae world so their mating bond lines up with fate. BUT. They went 500 years without a mate just to end up with 20 yr old women as mates? Same thing with Rhysand's parents. A 900 YEAR OLD MAN AND A 19 YEAR OLD WOMAN. WHAT THE FUCK. High fae rarely leave their courts too, and considering everyone supposedly has a mate, most of their mates would be in other courts, whom they'll never meet. The fate argument that works for Feysand and Cassian fails here, because a mating bond being found is so incredibly rare (except for the fact all three archeron sisters found theirs) that it has nothing to do with fate and circumstance.
Nessian. I hate it with my entire heart. Their ENTIRE romance plot was Cassian domesticating Nesta. He consistently abused and ridiculed her, but Oh! They're mates! So it's out of love! Get out. Pack your 50 shades of domestic violence and get out. That man bitch laughed at her as she fell down the stairs, locked her in a house, insulted and made fun of her regularly, and lusted after her emaciated body while she was clearly struggling. He does not give a fuck about Nesta. They were happy at the end! SO WHAT. That doesn't change the way he acted. She kept pushing away his advances and he didn't not care. The same goes for Feysand but I've already discussed them enough.
Considering all of this, I have come to a conclusion!
SJM used the mating bond as an excuse to not have to write compelling romances that actually make sense and instead a fast track to poor fairy porn and her kinks.
#mating bond#acotar#sjmaas#sarah j maas#anti sjm#anti acotar#anti sarah j maas#anti rhysand#anti feysand#anti inner circle#anti nessian#sjm critical
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