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illyrianbitch · 1 month

Text

Where I Left My Lover

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: After a brush with death, Azriel makes a difficult decision to protect you.

Warnings: angst!!!! & bad decisions.

Word Count: 3.8k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

With a forceful push, the door to Rhysand’s office swung open as Nesta swept into the room, eyes blazed with a fury that made Azriel swallow. Cassian’s loud footsteps echoed as he followed after his mate.

"Tell me it isn't true," she demanded, her voice a low, dangerous growl.

Rhysand moved to intercept her, his hand outstretched in a futile attempt to stop her from her warpath. "Nesta, perhaps we should��"

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Nesta shoved him away with a forceful gesture, her gaze fixed on Azriel. The shadowsinger stood eerily still, even his shadows unmoving.

"Azriel," she said, her voice trembling with anger. "Tell me it isn't true."

His gaze faltered, and suddenly he found himself unable to meet Nesta's accusing, burning stare. He looked away, his shadows curling into themselves behind him, as if retreating in shame.

Nesta's anger flared, hands clenching at her side. She breathed out sharply, the sound a mixture of frustration and rage. Whipping around to face Rhysand, she leveled a searing gaze at him.

"I expect something like this from you," she spat, her tone laced with contempt.

Rhysand's expression hardened into a withering glare, but before he could respond, Nesta turned back to Azriel. "But you?" she continued, her voice dripping with disappointment. "You're supposed to be better than this."

Azriel's jaw tightened as he grit his teeth together. From behind Nesta, he watched as Cassian approached, staring at him with a frown and furrowed brows. Azriel looked back to Nesta.

“You don’t understand-”

"I don't care," she retorted, her tone icy. "You cannot do this. Not to Y/n."

At the mention of your name, Azriel's heart clenched, a wave of sadness washing over him like a relentless tide. He swallowed hard.

"This is for Y/n," he responded, his voice low. Flat. "To keep her safe."

"That is not your decision to make," Nesta snarled, "You are stripping her of her right to choose, and you know deep down she wouldn't want this."

There was something about the way Nesta spoke, how she stared at him with such disappointment, that made him angry. Azriel was making the right decision. He was being selfless, yet everyone was seeing it the other way, seeing him as some monster.

Within seconds, his control slipped, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he took a step forward, his eyes flashing with a dark intensity. "She almost died!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with desperation. "She almost died because of me. I don't care what she wants. I'm doing this to keep her safe."

Cassian moved quickly, placing a firm hand on Nesta's shoulder. “Watch it,” he growled as he met Azriel's gaze.

Azriel blinked. And then he was composing himself once more, moving back into a straight posture. "I'm doing this because I love her," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with sorrow.

"No," Nesta said, her voice sharp. "This is not love. This is wrong. And if you go through with it, I'll never let you forget it."

As Nesta turned to leave, Azriel felt a pang of regret gnaw at his heart. A wave of guilt washed over him at the realization that he had disappointed someone he cared about so deeply. He truly cared about Nesta, respected her strength and conviction, and the thought of her walking away, angry and disillusioned, made him sick to his stomach. Had he lost two people today? Was he truly doing the right thing?

Yes, he reminded himself. Images of you conjured in his brain— your pale, bruised and bloody body, the way you laid limp in his arms. He thought back to how he’d relished in the screams of the soldiers who had tortured you, how he took his time carving them out for what they had done. He thought about how long you’d been in that bed, unmoving with shallow breaths, how scared he’d been that he’d lost you. You were human. You were something he could lose. And his life, his duties, had almost cost him your life.

Azriel looked up to meet Rhysands gaze, who had been standing in quiet observation, making no move to talk or intervene. Azriel had already spoken to Rhys, had gotten the same discussion from him. His gaze flickered to Cassian, who was shaking his head as he stared out of the door his mate had left through.

“Nes is right,” Cassian said, “I mean, we’ve done our fair share of questionable things, but this?”

He paused for a moment, eyes darting between his two brothers.

“It’s what needs to be done,” Azriel said.

Cassian shook his head. “No. It’s what you think needs to be done. And you’re wrong.”

Azriel let out a deep exhale, his jaw clenched.

“Rhys,” Cass said, turning to face the High Lord. “C’mon. You know better than this. You really think this is okay?”

Rhysand held his gaze. For a moment, Cass believed he’d gotten through to his brother, that perhaps he’d realized how far this was going to go, how wrong Azriel was. But Rhysand simply straightened his posture.

“I’m not a part of this,” was all he responded.

Cass shook his head once more, poking a finger into Rhysand’s chest.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Az has lost his goddsdamned mind. Why are you entertaining this?”

It was Azriel who moved next, walking up to Cassian and pushing him away with a small shove. He gave a snarl, shadows swirling around his forearms. Cass looked down at the hand pressed against his chest, and then up at Azriel with flared nostrils and a look of deep disappointment in his eyes.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Azriel growled, “You think this is something I want to do?”

Cassian pushed him off.

“I think you’ve lost sight of what is fear and what is reason.”

“Enough,” Rhysand commanded, walking to the two males to separate them with his extended hands. He turned to Cassian and let out a small exhale. Cass saw it, then, the sadness in his eyes.

“In the centuries that Azriel has been a part of this family, a part of this court, he has not asked for favors. He has asked me now, and I owe it to him.”

Cassian let out a small scoff. It was a losing game. They were all stubborn— it came with their lineage, with their dna. So he settled at casting Azriel another glance and frowned.

"This is selfish, Az," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "She is not only yours. She’s family. She’s Nesta’s friend. She’s my friend—"

Something flickered in Azriel's eyes, a weariness settling over him as he grew tired of defending his actions. "Do you want her as a friend or do you want her alive?"

Cassian slightly recoiled, a small tick in his jaw. “That’s not fair.”

“Cassian,” Rhys said slowly, “Leave.”

Cassian rubbed his jaw, a heavy anger simmering beneath his skin as he shot one last glare at Azriel. "Whatever," he muttered in disappointment, "I can’t even look at you."

And with that, he turned and stalked out of the room.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The soft chirping of birds filled the air, the sounds a gentle caress against Azriel’s skin. The beauty around him stood out in stark contrast to the heavy silence that hung over him like a suffocating cloak. He’d always loved your little home, loved how secluded it was, how quiet. Everything was slower here, more timid, more calm.

You were inside with Rhysand, now, and Azriel could hear the faint echo of your voices. It didn’t last long. Within moments it went quiet, and Az clenched his fists at his side.

The longer he lingered outside, the more he felt the pull of your presence, the echo of your touch haunting him like a ghost. Azriel fought every urge to run back inside, to hold you and kiss you again like he had moments prior. It wasn't long enough. He should have taken another minute, another hour. But he knew, deep down, it would never be enough, that it would never be the right time. The longer he spent with you, the longer he felt your touch, it broke him even more.

Azriel’s shadows pulled at him, wrapping around his ankles as if to pull him back inside. He scolded them, his wings twitching as he slightly kicked his feet. They swarmed once more. They were angry at him too. Azriel knew this. He felt it in their touch, in the way they’d whisper. He did his best to ignore it.

He wasn’t being selfish. He was putting you first.

There was a faint creak as the door opened behind him. Swiftly, he turned around, his eyes locking with Rhysand's as his brother stepped out and closed the door behind him with a deliberate slowness.

Rhysand gave Azriel a small, curt nod. "It's done.”

Azriel's chest tightened, a lump forming in the back of his throat. "Is she-" he began, his voice catching in his throat.

“She’s alright.”

There was a heavy ache in Azriel’s chest now, something tender like an open wound. His heart felt hollow. Empty. He looked down at the ground, at the shadows at his feet, and tightly shut his eyes.

Rhysand’s face softened. “Az,” he started, but Azriel simply shook his head.

"Don't," he whispered hoarsely. And before Rhysand could respond, he disappeared.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel stood outside the small inn, his heart pounding in his chest as he hesitated at the threshold. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't risk drawing attention to himself or risk the chance of undoing what he’d chosen to do. But the pull of his own longing had been too strong to resist. He’d lasted longer than expected, but even then, he’d been in agony. He was restless, angry, and above all else, he was lonely.

With a deep breath, he adjusted his posture, making a mental check of the glamour he’d put around himself, concealing his wings and any other identifying features of his. Even with the cover, he kept his wings tightly folded against his back, just in case something went awry.

And then he entered, casting a wary glance around the room as he made his way through the crowded floor. His hands were tucked securely in his pockets, his shadows coiled around him like protective tendrils. He’d done his best to make them blend into the black material of his clothing, told them to stay put and ripple like fabric would.

Finding a small table in the corner, Azriel made his way over, but as he lowered himself into the seat, a nagging voice in the back of his mind warned him of the folly of his actions. This was stupid, dangerous, and entirely self-indulgent. Dangerous, dangerous, his shadows echoed. He tightened his jaw. He would only be here for a few moments, he told himself, he just wanted to see you— once. That was all.

His shadows whispered louder, a small anxious buzz in his head. He needed to leave before it was too late.

But before he could make a move, he looked up and froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“Hello,” you said timidly, giving him a small smile. Azriel’s heart leapt as the sound, a sudden rush of warmth filling his veins. Your hair was shorter now than the last time he saw you, and you wore a few dainty gold chains around your neck that he’d never seen. Had you bought those recently? Made them with your friends? They looked beautiful on you. And you had so much color. You looked alive. You looked happy.

A moment passed as Azriel simply stared at you, and then he was shaking his head slightly, freeing himself of the daze he had fallen into.

“Uh, hi- hello.”

It was then he finally noticed the two small glasses in your hands, both filled slightly with an amber liquid. You followed his gaze, looking down at your own hands. You frowned slightly and then you extended one towards him.

“I’m not sure why I brought this,” you admitted, “But here. This is for you.”

Azriel swallowed, gently reaching out to take the small cup from your hands. His fingers brushed against your skin ever so slightly and he nearly jumped at the contact, a tingling sensation filling his body. Your brows furrowed as you observed his hands, your gaze tracing over the perfectly smoothed, tan skin.

He had them glamoured too, just to be safe.

He watched as you blinked, your expression shifting with a mixture of confusion, as if you sensed something wrong. A wave of sickening guilt rolled through his stomach. His shadows circled at his feet— subtly enough that they’d blend in to the darkness of the cornered floor, but strong enough to where Azriel felt them, pawing at him like dogs to an owner.

“Thank you,” Azriel finally brought himself to say.

Your gaze instantly flickered back to his eyes. You scanned his face, taking in his features, the brown of his eyes. And then you gave him another smile, a small blush forming on your cheeks. You looked over to the empty seat in front of him.

"Do you mind?"

Azriel felt a surge of flustered panic coursing through him, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to compose himself. "Oh, yes, of course, please," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He readjusted himself in his own chair.

As you settled into the seat across from him, Azriel couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He watched, mesmerized, as you took a small sip from the glass, the soft curve of your lips bringing back every memory he’d held of them.

He watched as you scanned the crowd. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to look away, to break the spell. This would only make things worse for him. But try as he might, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you, couldn't tear himself away from indulging in your presence. It took every ounce of restraint within him not to lean forward, to reach out and caress you.

You caught Azriel's gaze as he quickly averted his eyes, a small laugh escaping your lips at his sudden shyness. "I'm sorry for interrupting your quiet time," you said.

Azriel shifted in his seat. "No," he replied, a bit too quickly, his voice catching in his throat. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean, I don't mind."

You smiled, a warmth in your eyes that made his heart flutter– something just as painful as it was comforting.

"This may sound silly, but it feels like I was supposed to come talk to you," you confessed, your voice soft.

A tug in his chest. “Really?"

"Yes," you replied, your gaze drifting momentarily to the crowd before returning to him. "I'm quite good at listening. Maybe you need a good ear."

Azriel chuckled softly. You always were great at listening, even better at talking, too. It was a perfect balance. He’d always loved that about you. Your presence was so calming, so quiet compared to the loudmouths he called family, even if he loved them dearly. He missed it, how gentle you were.

"I don't know if that's what I need.”

You tilted your head, studying him with a curious expression. "What brought you here today?"

Azriel thought for a moment, his gaze falling to his glass as he traced a finger along its rim. He knew he couldn't hide the truth from you, not when you were always so good at reading him, so stubborn at getting what you really wanted.

After a brief pause, he finally admitted, "A girl."

Your eyes lit up with interest, a smile gracing your lips as you leaned in slightly. "Yeah?" you asked, “She somebody special?”

Azriel met your gaze, attempting to muster a smile, but a lump formed in his throat, choking back the words he struggled to say. He bounced his knee nervously under the table. “She was. I can’t seem to let her go.”

Your frown deepened at the admission, a pang of sympathy tugging at your heart. "I'm sorry," you murmured.

But Azriel quickly shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips as he reassured you, "It's alright."

Silence enveloped you for a moment.

"She was the love of my life," Azriel said, his voice softer than he’d ever heard it. He glanced up at you, instantly finding your attentive gaze that met his own.

You remained quiet, but he knew the look on your face. Eyes wide, slight furrowed brows, a small smile. You were urging him to continue, waiting for him to finish, to be heard.

"Beautiful, kind, funny," he continued, his voice soft with reverence. "Also a great listener."

As he spoke, memories of moments shared with you flooded his mind, each beautiful and painful in their own rite, a haunting sense of longing drowning his senses.

You gave a small breathy laugh.

"No wonder you can't let her go," you said. There was a ting of sadness in your gentle voice. Azriel wondered what it was for.

"Yeah," he agreed softly, his gaze drifting back to his glass.

Silence settled between you once more, the air heavy with every unspoken thought and emotion that Azriel felt. He wasn’t sure why he did it, why he let it slip. But before he could stop himself, Azriel looked up, his gaze searching yours as he asked, "Have you ever felt that way?"

You paused, caught off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation. For a moment, you opened your mouth to respond, but the words eluded you, leaving you with a furrowed brow and a frown of uncertainty.

You slumped slightly in your chair, a heaviness settling over you as you admitted, "No, I haven't."

Azriel's heart sank at your response, a pang of disappointment coursing through him despite his efforts to suppress it. He had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that there might have been a glimmer of memory within you, somewhere deep in your bones that recognized him.

He didn’t know why he pressed further, didn’t know why he couldn’t stop himself from talking. He felt his shadows slowly rising from his feet, now surrounding his thighs. He pushed them back.

"Have you ever been in love?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

A part of him dared to hope yet again, to cling to the possibility that you feel the same yearning, the same ache that he’d felt for years. But even as he spoke the words, another part of him recoiled in shame, knowing that he had no right to ask, no right to expect anything from you. He had dug his own grave. This was his doing. This was his choice— and he was being selfish. He was being so utterly selfish as he sat there before you.

Still, the longing lingered, a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished, even in the face of his own self-imposed exile. But as he watched you, the sadness etched in your features, he knew that his hopes had been in vain.

Your gaze met his, troubled and uncertain, and you hesitated before answering, "I— No. I don't think I have."

Azriel felt a wave of sadness wash over him at your response, a deep ache settling in his chest. His heart was burning now, a pain that made him queasy, made him want to cry and scream at the same time. He decided this was worst than any torture– having to sit across from you as a stranger, as someone who was unable to touch you, hold you, tell you how beautiful you looked, and listen to you say you’d never been in love. Because you had been. You were deeply in love, so in love it scared you both.

A hot anger filled him. He mourned his old life. He mourned his future with you. You were something real. He had something real. But his past, his duty, his life, it had prevented him from keeping it all, from indulging in a life much simpler than his own, one where he could sit across from you in a run-down inn and watch drunken village males make bets with one another.

But it was still his fault. He had done this. And you sat before him, a look of frustration on your face, as if you could feel something was off. Shame filled him. He needed to leave.

Quickly he brought his cup to his lips and chugged the remainder of his drink, the burn of alcohol a bitter sensation that he welcomed with open arms.

"Thank you for the company," Azriel said as he pushed himself up from the table.

Your gaze followed him, a flicker of concern in your eyes as you watched him rise. "You're leaving?" you asked with a frown.

Azriel nodded, his movements stiff as he straightened his posture. "It was very nice meeting you," he replied, his voice strained as he turned to go.

But before he could take another step, you spoke again, your words stopping him in his tracks. "Wait," you said, the chair sliding on the floor as you stood.

Azriel turned back to face you, his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited your next words. It was getting harder to breathe now, his heartbeat shuddering in his ears. He needed to leave.

"I hope that one day I'll experience a love like that," you said, pausing for a moment. With a soft, but hesitant, smile, you continued, "That one day, someone will love me like you loved her."

A flicker of surprise crossed Azriel's features. His mouth fell open slightly as he took a sharp inhale. And then he was swallowing heavily, blinking away the pressure building up behind his eyes.

“You will,” he responded, his voice a slight croak. He cleared his throat, looking to the floor for a second. Then, his gaze was holding yours for a lingering moment. "Goodbye, Y/n.”

You watched his retreating figure with a small smile on your lips. But then, like a sudden bolt of lightning, a realization struck you. You frowned.

Your feet moved of their own accord, propelling you forward faster than your mind could process. You dashed to the entrance, flinging open the door as sunlight flooded your vision, momentarily blinding you.

"Wait! How did you know my—" you began, the words catching in your throat as you stepped outside, your eyes scanning the area in search of Azriel's retreating form. But to your dismay, there was no one there, no trace of him to be found, only the empty street stretched out before you, bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sun.

Your voice trailed off into a whisper as you finished your sentence, "name.”

Your name.

How did he know your name?

Frowning, you brought a hand to your chest, feeling a small burning fluttering sensation in your ribs. With a sigh, you bit the inside of your cheek. You turned around and made your way back inside, your heart now heavy with a sensation you didn’t quite know how to name.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

a/n: since in death & his reaper azriel forgot about reader, i obvs had to balance the scales and write one where the reader forgets az. we luv angst!!! hope y’all enjoyed 🫶🏻

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader angst #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction

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theostrophywife · 10 months

Note

Hey! I love your work! I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader fic where reader doesn’t know a lot about males and so az (maybe he already has a thing for reader) offers to give her lessons? The more NSFW the better 😉

innocence.

author's note: sorry for being m.i.a. please accept this as my apology gift. largely inspired by this song. you can't tell me that az doesn't have the biggest corrpution kink 😏

it started out innocently enough.

one winter evening after a particularly rowdy wine night, you and azriel laid in a heap at the house of wind, giggling at nothing as the warmth of the alcohol lowered your inhibitions and loosened your lips.

"never?" azriel asked incredulously, his brows creasing in the most adorable way. "you've truly never kissed anyone?"

you pouted, crossing your arms. thanks to cassian and his big mouth, the shadowsinger now knew the true extent of your naivete. growing up in the high priestess's temple in the dawn court, you had devoted much of your life to duty and training, which left little to no room for encounters with the opposite sex.

it never bothered you before. until you moved to the night court and met the shadowsinger. azriel was beyond gorgeous and smart and funny and probably well-versed in the art of seduction, which is more than you could say for your inexperienced self.

"don't tease, az." you groaned, covering your face behind your hands. as if that would hide the flush spreading through your cheeks. "i'm already mortified enough as it is."

"hey," azriel said softly as he gently grabbed your wrists. "it's nothing to be embarrassed about, love."

"you're just saying that to be nice."

the shadowsinger shook his head. "i torture people for a living," he deadpanned. "i am not nice."

you chuckled, which brought a smile to azriel's handsome face. "besides, practice makes perfect. i've seen you go from not knowing how to hold a sword to perfecting the eight point attack in a matter of weeks. kissing should be a piece of cake compared to that."

"kissing and fighting aren't the same thing."

azriel smirked. "it is, if you're doing it right. all it takes is a good teacher." the tips of your ears reddened. “and we all know how fast of a learner you are.”

you snorted. "somehow i doubt that nesta would be into the idea of letting me borrow her mate for lessons." a little frown formed on your face. "or maybe she would. you never know with those two."

the idea formed in azriel's mind before he could think better of it. the shadowsinger hated that he thought of it in the first place, but fuck. you were both a little tipsy and a tiny bit reckless and he'd been crushing on you for far too long and maybe tonight was the night he finally did something about it.

"i could teach you."

you stilled. “what?”

azriel shrugged and put on his most nonchalant expression even though his inner monologue was currently pure turmoil. “i could teach you how to kiss.” he cleared his throat, lowering his gaze to yours. “it might help to practice with someone you’re comfortable with.”

you cocked your head, weighing his words. “you’re…actually serious about this.”

“why wouldn’t i be?”

“well, wouldn’t it make things weird? you’re my best friend. best friends don’t just kiss.”

you had him there. azriel certainly had never offered this unique service to any of his friends before. “i don’t think it’s weird. i think it makes perfect sense. in fact, it’s weird that we’re not kissing right now. best friends kiss all the time,” the shadowsinger deadpanned.

you snorted. “so you and cassian are just having heated little makeout sessions behind me and nesta’s back?”

azriel winked. “i won’t tell if you don’t.”

that earned an earnest little giggle out of you. then you were quiet again, lost in the pros and cons.

pro: you really wanted to kiss azriel.

con: you really wanted to kiss azriel.

what if you were horrible at it? what if you had bad breath? what if you accidentally bit him? what if azriel figured out that you had a pathetic little crush on him and he doesn’t return the feelings and your friendship implodes then you’d have to move back to the dawn court and adopt a bunch of cats just like thesan always teased you about when you were children—

“you’re spiraling.”

you crossed your arms. “am not.”

azriel rolled his eyes fondly. “i can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” his expression softened as he turned over on the couch, his chin perched in one hand. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i just…” the bob of an adam’s apple. “i just wanted your first kiss to be with someone who genuinely cares about you.”

that turned your insides into mush. “oh.”

the shadowsinger’s cheeks reddened. “never mind, it sounds silly now that i’ve said it out loud.”

“it’s not,” you said, sitting cross legged on the sofa. “it’s not stupid, az. it’s really sweet, actually.”

your heart hammered inside of your chest as you faced azriel. his hazel eyes glowed golden under the faelights and a warm flush colored his cheeks a rosy tone. from this close, you could make out the constellations of freckles that kissed his nose and cheeks, its traitorous little trail stopping just above his cupid’s bow. you couldn’t help it. your gaze went straight to his lips. they looked soft, sensual, and perfectly kissable. you wondered if he’d taste like sweet wine.

“y/n?” azriel murmured softly.

“hmm?”

“you’re staring.”

your cheeks reddened and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of azriel’s mouth. “you’re the one who brought up kissing,” you countered, raising a brow. “now i can’t stop staring at your stupid lips.”

the shadowsinger’s smirk grew wider. “my stupid lips,” he repeated. “that you want to kiss.”

“no,” you blurted. azriel raised a knowing brow. “yes. maybe.” you shifted awkwardly. “what if i’m terrible at it? what if i accidentally miss? what if i don’t know where to put my hands? oh my gods, what if i accidentally bite you?”

to his credit, there wasn’t an ounce of judgement on azriel’s face. he’d witnessed your outbursts enough times that he wasn’t even fazed by it. the shadowsinger grabbed your hand and traced soothing circles over your knuckles. “one, no one’s first kiss is great. at best, it’s weird and awkward because you’re just trying to figure it out. that’s kind of the point. two, you won’t miss. just follow my lead. three, the neck or waist are generally safe spots to place your hands.” azriel demonstrated by wrapping your arms around his neck. “lastly, i don’t mind if you bite me. in fact, i might enjoy it.” he gave you a cheeky wink that helped dissipate the rest of your anxious worries.

you chuckled softly. leave it to azriel to make you laugh mid freak out. the shadowsinger smiled and cauldron fucking boil you, the sight of it pretty much sealed your fate.

“so,” you murmured, toying with the loose curls at the nape of azriel’s neck. “what now?”

“that’s entirely up to you, love.”

you blinked. once, twice. the smell of cedar and starkissed night. freckles and rosy cheeks. warm, golden eyes that melted your insides like honey. scarred hands that caressed the side of your face with heartbreaking gentleness.

“kiss me, azriel.”

the shadowsinger did not need to be told twice. he tilted your chin, brushing his nose against yours for a brief moment. azriel took a deep breath like he was savoring the moment, like his entire life had been leading up to this. then he kissed you.

his lips were as soft as freshly plucked rose petals and as sweet as the wine that still coated your tongue. they pressed against yours, gentle and exploring as azriel cupped your cheek. you leaned into him and your fingers found purchase in his silky, dark locks as azriel deepened the kiss. his arm snaked across your back as he pulled you into his lap, his mouth never once leaving yours. the sweet innocent pecks did not stay innocent for long.

the shadowsinger groaned as you nestled into him. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t pressed against him, but still you wanted more. your hands moves of their own accord and slipped underneath azriel’s cream sweater. his skin felt like a warm summer day despite the fact that it was currently the dead of winter.

“fuck,” azriel growled into your neck.

you pulled away, startled. it didn’t even occur to you that your fingers were as cold as icicles. “shit. sorry, az i didn’t think—“

you slipped your hands out of his sweater, but azriel caught you by the wrist. “no,” he grunted, his voice dark and low and dangerous. “no, don’t stop.”

it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. even hotter still with the way azriel tugged you to him as though he’d rather die than have you stop touching him. you greedily obliged, taking the lead this time. azriel cursed under his breath as you kissed him again, tangling his curls between your fingers. there was something intoxicating about him—his taste, his touch, his kiss. you couldn’t get enough.

when you finally came up for breath, the shadowsinger looked at you as though he’d been starving for centuries and you’d only really begun to scratch the surface of his hunger. azriel wanted to devour you.

but tonight, he’d settle for a kiss. except, it was anything but.

azriel was fucked.

he blinked, drinking in your lust added gaze and flushed cheeks. you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and it was all he could do to reel himself in. “are…are all first kisses like that?” your voice was hoarse from disuse and utterly sexy.

“no,” azriel answered honestly. “i’ve never had a kiss like that.”

your grin brought out a set of dimples that azriel had long ago deemed as his greatest weaknesses. “and i’ve never had a first kiss, period.”

and you never will again, azriel thought. not if he could help it.

“does that feel good, love?” azriel asked as he pressed a kiss against your collar bone.

you whimpered as his lips trailed between the valley of your breasts. since that first kiss, you and azriel hadn’t been able to keep your hands off of each other. over the last few weeks, the apprehension you felt about your inexperience slowly started to feel like a blessing in disguise. azriel said you were a fast learner, but only because he was such a great teacher.

“gods,” you breathed, clutching the sheets as azriel continued his descent.

“you can just call me az, you know.”

you rolled your eyes at the cheeky male below you. from this angle, he certainly looked like a god. his hair was a tousled mess, dark curls tangled from where you ran your fingers through it. sweat dripped down his shirtless torso, his golden brown skin glowing in the afternoon light. you were vaguely aware that the sun as setting over the horizon, which meant that the rest of your friends would be arriving for dinner, but neither one of you seemed to care.

during the past few weeks, you and azriel continued your lessons. first base was easy enough to master. the two of you put in plenty of hours sneaking off to make out in azriel’s room, the wine cellar, the training pits, and even in feyre’s art studio at the river house once when things really got desperate. it was a wonder that your friends hadn’t caught you yet. there had been several close calls with cassian. mostly because the male was a nosy busybody.

second base took a little more work. you were terrified at first. you and azriel had been making out in your bed for what seemed like hours before you finally mustered up the courage to slip your hand into his trousers. the shadowsinger made a sound that was half growl and half purr and for a split second you were afraid that you’d hurt him. when you voiced your fears, azriel was quick to reassure you.

“i’m not in pain, love.” azriel said, his voice strained and breathy. “trust me, i feel the complete opposite.”

“tell me how to make you feel good, az.”

the string of curse words that fell from his lips were so filthy that it made you blush. the shadowsinger guided your hand over his cock and you nearly gasped at the impressive length. azriel was hot and hard beneath your touch, his wings flexing as you grasped him in your hand.

“loosen your grip, love.” azriel adjusted your hand, motioning for your fingers to relax and mold against him. you mimicked his movement, eliciting a low rumble out of the shadowsinger. the competitive part of you awakened, eager to make azriel groan like that again. you gazed up at azriel through your lashes with determination. “gods, don’t look at me like that y/n or this lesson will be over before it’s even started.”

heat erupted in your core, but you shook the desire away. this was about azriel. you wanted to make him come undone for once instead of the other way around. “show me, az.” you said. “i want to see how you touch yourself.”

“cauldron boil me,” azriel muttered under his breath. “you’re going to be the death of me, y/n.”

you watched as he gripped himself and pumped at a steady pace. he slowed down the movements for you and you studied each flick of his wrist as though you’d be tested on it later. as sinful as it was, there was something heavenly about watching azriel stroke himself. your hands itched to touch him. once you felt confident enough, azriel let you take over.

azriel’s eyes rolled back as you pumped his shaft, carefully watching the rise and fall of his chest. his heavy breathing filled the room and it quickly became your favorite sound in the world.

you felt a strange rush of power witnessing azriel in such a vulnerable state. his lids were heavy with lust, golden eyes barely visible from the ring of onyx swallowing up his irises. you thought he looked pretty like this, his head tilted back against your headboard while his lips parted to release a shallow breath every now and then.

"you have no idea how good that feels, love." azriel grunted. you tightened your grip, spreading the bead of precum over his tip. your little improvisation was met with a moan that seeped into your bones.

"how good, az?" you teased.

those long lashes of his kissed the tops of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered close. "fucking amazing," azriel declared. "keep going, love. don't stop, please. gods—"

"you can just call me y/n, you know."

azriel growled in response before pulling you in for a heated kiss. his hips thrust up to match your pace as his tongue parted your lips. he swallowed your moans, devouring you like his life depended on it.

“just like that, love.” azriel said in appreciation. “you’re doing such a good job, y/n.”

the praise affected you more than you thought it would. you were always seeking positive feedback when it came to your work, especially in training, but this was something else. it only encouraged you to keep going at a faster pace until azriel was coming undone in your hands. the sight of him losing control would forever be etched in your mind.

the more azriel gave, the more you craved. not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. the whole thing may have started as a practical way to tackle sex, but as time went on, it started to evolve into something else entirely.

until the lessons weren’t really just lessons anymore.

if you had to pinpoint the moment when everything changed, it would have been a few days after winter solstice. azriel had been away for a mission and was unable to make it home for the festivities. throughout the night, you kept finding yourself fidgeting and glancing at the empty seat beside you. at one point during dinner, cassian squeezed your hand and smiled sadly.

“i’m sure he misses you too, y/n.”

the gravity of those words hit you full force when you found azriel standing in the doorway of your flat. he was still dressed in his combat leathers and dark circles formed underneath his eyes as though he’d flown nonstop from wherever he was to get back home. before you could stop yourself, you rushed at him and nearly knocked him into the street from the force of your hug.

“i know, love.” azriel murmured softly into your hair. “i missed you, too.”

one bath and two cups of hot chocolate later, you found yourself curled up on the sofa as snow fell softly against the windowpane. you set your drink down on the table and turned to face azriel.

“so, i was thinking…”

the corner of azriel’s mouth quirked. “that’s never good.”

you tossed a pillow at him and rolled your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe it’s my turn to teach you a lesson, for once.”

the shadowsinger looked intrigued by that. “oh yeah? and what do you want to teach me, love?”

“i’m going to teach you how to sleep, az.” you pointedly stared at his bruised eyes, which only made him chuckle in amusement. “because judging from those bags underneath your eyes, you’re no expert in the matter.”

“i don’t get a say in this, do i?” shadows peered over his shoulders as though they too yearned for rest.

“nope,” you said cheerfully, dragging him off the couch and into your bedroom.

azriel let you bully him into getting underneath the covers. he tucked his wings to the side as he faced you. “what’s so great about this thing you call sleep, then? seems pretty boring to me.”

“well if you’d let me demonstrate,” you said impatiently before tugging him towards you. azriel chuckled and scooted closer. “i’ll have you know i’m a world class cuddler.”

“yeah? prove it then, love.” azriel teased.

the shadowsinger watched in amusement as you bossed him around. first you made him lie on his stomach and then pulled him to your chest. as much as he enjoyed teasing the absolute hell out of you, he couldn’t help but murmur in satisfaction as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. even his shadows seemed to enjoy bathing in your warmth and breathing in your jasmine shampoo.

“mmm,” az mumbled sleepily. for the first time in gods knew how long, he felt warm and safe and content. “you’re bossy as hell, but comfy too.”

“i know, you stubborn giant bat baby.”

the shadowsinger snorted. “giant bat baby?”

you rolled your eyes fondly. “shut up and cuddle, az.”

azriel burrowed himself further until his body heat warmed every inch of your skin. “that’s the good stuff,” he declared, brushing a soft kiss against your collarbone.

“told you i was good,” you said with a smile. azriel couldn’t even argue. with your hands massaging his scalp and your legs intertwined with his, the shadowsinger would’ve agree to anything you said.

“the best,” he hummed against your skin.

this was dangerous territory. with your other lessons, it was easy to shove aside your feelings because pleasure made it hard to think about anything else. but with azriel laying on your chest and clinging onto you like this meant something more…you could no longer avoid that pesky voice of doubt.

you were in love with azriel.

you had been for a long time.

shit.

“y/n?” azriel asked, cutting through the turmoil of your thoughts. his wings draped over the sides of your bed, relaxed and at ease.

“yeah?”

his golden eyes found yours in the dark. for a second, he stared at you like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. the shadowsinger opened his mouth like he was going to say something important, but he gave a tiny shake of his head and smiled.

“good night, love.”

in that moment, you knew azriel had your heart in the palm of his hand. “good night, az.”

azriel knew it was only a matter of time before these lessons came back to bite him on the ass.

he had been so eager that first night. mostly because he'd had a crush on you for so long and it was finally time to do something about it. the shadowsinger knew that he probably should've just told you how he felt, but he didn't want to shatter this delicate thing between you.

after all, these were just lessons. for all he knew, he was just your practice partner. it wasn't really all that different from sparring. except your weapons where your lips and your hands and your fucking smile that made his heart skip a beat every time you so much as grinned at him from across the room.

gods, he was so fucked.

the reality of it didn't fully hit him until that disastrous spring night.

the two of you had perfected third base eons ago. azriel knew how to make you cum with his mouth using a combination of expert tongue flicks and help from his shadows. nothing brought him joy like your shaking legs greedily wrapping around him as he ate your pussy like a man starved.

azriel thought he found the key to happiness until you returned the favor and went down on him.

finding restraint was hard. reeling his desire in while you knelt before him with your lips wrapped around his cock was nearly impossible.

"like this?" you asked, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock. azriel thought he was going to come right then and there when you looked up at him through your lashes, determination burning in your gaze.

you had always been intense. azriel knew that much from months of training together, but he didn't expect you to approach sex with the same competitiveness. you put your all into everything you did, which is what made azriel fall for you in the first place. he just didn't think you'd take the same approach when it came to sucking his dick. not that he was complaining.

in fact, all he could really do was moan.

the shadowsinger attempted to pull it together long enough to utter a coherent sentence. he had to at least attempt to say something helpful. you were putting your trust in him. he liked knowing that he'd been your first everything. now he just had to muster up the courage to tell you that he also intended to be the last.

he tried. he really did.

that night in his room. laying in bed with your legs tangled together. the soft spring breeze billowing through your curtains. azriel watched as you propped yourself up on your elbows and turned towards him.

"so, what now?" you asked.

azriel's brows furrowed with confusion. "what do you mean, love?"

you tilted your head, biting down on your bottom lip as you mulled over what to say next. it was one of your many little quirks that azriel adored. "i mean, what happens now? we've pretty much covered all the bases. except for one."

sex. you hadn't had sex yet. azriel knew this would come up sooner or later, but he had hoped it would be the latter. while it was easy to pretend that the lessons were just lessons to him, azriel couldn't do that with sex. it had always been hard for him to separate his feelings from the physical act and as much as he wanted to make sure that your first experience would be with someone who loved you, it wouldn't be fair to have sex without telling you the truth.

"i don't think that would be a good idea." as soon as the words left his mouth, azriel knew it was the wrong thing to say. he could tell that much from the look on your face. "i just mean, we shouldn't rush into anything."

"rush?" you asked incredulously. "azriel, we've spent the last three months doing anything and everything under the sun except sex."

"and it's been great," azriel said, trying to reel the conversation back in. "the lessons. trusting each other. but i just think you should take a step back and consider if you're truly ready."

that intense gaze he loved so much suddenly felt like the sweltering sun that azriel couldn't wait to shy away from. "you were my first kiss, az. my first everything. i think i've made it pretty clear on where i stand." you paused for a second, scanning his face. "oh my gods. i didn't even think to ask if you wanted this."

you were up before the absurdity of that statement could sink into azriel. if he wanted this? he'd never wanted anything more in his entire life.

"they were just lessons," you murmured to yourself while gathering your clothes. “how could i be so stupid?”

"y/n, please." azriel pleaded, not entirely believing what he was hearing. he nearly tripped over his own bedsheets as he followed you across the room.

“no, az. i’m sorry, i thought—“ your eyes brimmed with tears. the sight broke his fucking heart. “it’s not your fault. i just assumed—“

“that i’m in love with you?” azriel asked, gently gripping your wrists. you froze, wide eyes pinning azriel in place. “because i am, you know. i’ve been in love with you since the moment we met. this past few months, it’s killed me to pretend that whatever this is between us is just lessons.”

your gaze softened. “why didn’t you ever say anything?”

azriel chuckled bitterly. “because i’m a coward. i was scared that you might not feel the same way, so i settled for whatever scraps you were willing to give me.”

tears filled your eyes again and azriel was scared he’d fucked it up again, but you wiped your cheeks and cupped his face. “you deserve more than that, azriel.”

“i know, love.” he bowed his head. “and you deserve more than just lessons. that’s why i don’t want to have sex. not unless you know what this means to me. if we do this, there will be no one else. not today, not ever. i may be your first, but i also intend to be your last. if you’ll let me.”

a stray tear fell down your cheek, but it was a happy one this time. “if you haven’t noticed, i’m totally crazy about you, az. i think i’ve been in love with you longer than i wanted to admit.”

“can’t blame you,” the shadowsinger said. “i’m totally lovable.”

you smacked him in the chest, but azriel only laughed before he kissed you. really kissed you. it felt like you were floating on air.

gods, you loved him. you really did.

you smiled into the kiss. “i love you, az.”

the shadowsinger kissed the tip of your nose. “i love you too, y/n.”

“so…no more lessons, right?”

azriel shook his head and scooped you into his arms. “no more lessons. i want the real thing this time.”

#friends and family we are gathered here today to fucking YEARN #i missed az and i m back with a bang #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel smut #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #acotar

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luvvyouforever · 3 months

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matchmaker, matchmaker - azriel x reader

↳ mor drags azriel to velaris's resident matchmaker, only for him to fall for her instead of his potential suitors.

↳ no major warnings apply! just some fluff and cuteness. not grammar or spell checked. sorry hehe

↳ requests are open! check bio.

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azriel and mor sat at a cafe table in the heart of velaris, steam rising from the tea cups in front of each of them. this was not an uncommon occurence by any means and the pair frequented the many shops and restaurants throughout the town. however, this time, there was an air of tension between them which caused their waitress to carefully place their drinks away from the edges of the table.

"you're telling me you won't even consider seeing her? do you know all that she's done for velaris, az?"

"she's just high fae, mor. she's not some prophecy teller that can see mating bonds between people. i don't understand what she could even do for me."

ah, yes. the topic of conversation was azriel's love life and mor was desperately trying to convince the spymaster to see her friend, the matchmaker of velaris.

what azriel was saying was true. she did not have some special power that allowed her to see the invisible string connecting mates. she could not look into her mind and pull out the best partner for someone. she just knew how to read people and how to do it well. she was responsible for a lot of the matches in velaris, even predicting nesta and cassian long before anyone else could.

"you're lonely, azriel. i can tell! you want to dance with someone at rita's and have a date to parties just as bad as anyone else. you just won't admit it," mor declared. her voice softened and she continued, "i want what's best for you, az. we all do. will you see her for me? please? even if nothing works out."

azriel sighed and took a drink of his tea which was still too hot for his mouth. damn mor and her awareness of the people in her life. and damn him for the way he'd give in to her so easily. "fine," he mumbled. "i will try. but no promises."

that next week, azriel came back from a trip to the mortal lands and immediately, mor was at the door to his room, badgering him about the meeting she set up for later that day. she declared that he could not reschedule or miss the meeting and that he should dress in something nice.

begrudgingly, azriel took a long bath to make sure he looked and smelled fine enough to get a potentially good match from mor's friend. he chose more "normal" clothing as instructed by mor and flew down to the bright townhouse fast enough to reach the door just as his appointment was set to begin.

she surely sensed him because before he even got the chance to knock, she threw the door open and greeted him.

"azriel, right? spymaster of the high lord's court," she said sweetly. "i am quite honored to have you in my home."

azriel felt too awkward for his own good and just nodded with as polite of a smile as he could muster.

"come on! come on!" she ushered him into her home which was brightly decorated in all sorts of eclectic decor, a lot of it being hearts and other love motifs. "can i get you anything?" she asked. "water? tea? snacks? wine?"

"no...no. i'm good, thanks," he said, quieter than he meant to. his eyes raked over the matchmaker, finding her to be a lot younger and more spry than he imagined. mor spoke so highly of her that he thought she must be ancient, having made matches for velaris since the dawn of time. she was also quite beautiful and the way she spoke caused some odd feelings in azriel's chest that he didn't like. his shadows noticed his attraction to her too as they whipped around his chest before hiding behind him, sometimes whispering things in his ear.

"suit yourself," she joked. she sat down on a large armchair and gestured to the matching one in front of her. azriel obediently sat down and watched her moves. she pulled out a frilly notebook from a drawer along with a pen. "has mor told you anything about what i do?"

"not really," azriel admitted. "just praises your name and forces her friends to come to her." the matchmaker laughed and azriel felt incredibly proud of himself for making her laugh.

"well, i just want to know a couple things about you. nothing crazy. just your inner thoughts and desires. and i take that information and compare it to other people and see what comes from it! simple, easy, and usually pain free but i have a feeling you may be a little more introverted than most." azriel shrugged in response. "so, my first question is what are your must-haves in a relationship?"

azriel fiddled with the hem of his shirt as he thought about the question. nobody had ever asked him that before and he honestly hadn't even thought about it. "um...someone who's nice. understanding, i guess. i have a lot of responsibilities in my job so someone who doesn't mind that i'm gone a lot," he thought for a second more. "what do people usually say?"

the matchmaker thought for a moment. "well, i would say my must-haves are patience, kindness...someone who's fine with staying inside," she paused and smiled, "definitely has to own some kind of awesome ancient sword or blade that i can play with."

azriel clocked her statement as a joke but some part of him, deep down inside, wishes that he had truth-teller displayed on his chest for her to see. he was patient, he was a homebody, he was...relatively kind. oh god...what was he thinking?

"all jokes, of course. but really, it's just anything you want in a partner. maybe you want them to be strong and abrasive and can hold their own. it's all up to you, azriel."

she moved on to the next question, which he was very grateful for. this one, however, was harder than the last. "what are you looking for here? do you want me to hunt down your potential mate? do you want something fun and casual? committed? i can do it all."

azriel felt like she was stripping back his layers, one by painful one. all to find someone he can kiss. this was crazy! and he didn't even know her name. "i don't really know, honestly. i...i guess my mate but that seems hard considering it could be anyone. i don't really desire anything. mor just made me come here."

she leaned forward and her big eyes seemed to look into his heart. "i know that's not true, azriel. everyone wants something. you have this...look in your eye that tells me you really want this to work out, that you want to believe in this. you just have to be open with me, 'kay?"

azriel let out a breathy chuckle. "how can i open when i don't even know your name or anything else about you?"

she thought for a second before nodding in agreement. she laid the notebook down on the side table and leaned back. "fair, i guess. my name is y/n, i have lived in velaris all my life, i enjoy pastries, reading, and tea, i started matchmaking as a silly way to keep my friends and i entertained until it started working too much to be a coincidence. i spend all my time finding love for other people but haven't found the one for me. ironic, isn't it?" she smiled at azriel. "there. does that make you feel a bit better?" he nodded. "good. now, let me repeat my question."

azriel and y/n continued their conversation, knocking out the questions she had prepared with relative ease. he felt comfortable opening up to her and being honest about his desires for love. he was completely unused to expressing his feelings like that but it came to him easily in her presence. the way she easily leaned in, eyes focused and gaze unwavering...it did something to him.

eventually, though, the questions ended and azriel knew he had to leave her home. he stalled on the last question, having her reword it over and over even though all she had asked was what his habits at home were like.

"well, azriel, thank you for answering all my questions. from here, i will start comparing your answers to other people i've met with and i will reach out to you with your first match up. you'll tell me if you're interested and if you aren't, we'll move on to the next!"

azriel panicked internally at her words which clearly signaled the end of their conversation. he rose at the same time as her but subconsciously placed his body in front of hers so that she'd have to step around him to leave the room. "so, do i come see you again at all? or...or is this it?" he cursed himself for sounding so awkward.

she laughed. "you can if that is what you prefer. if you want to talk about your dates and how they went then i don't care to. did you enjoy this a little more than you anticipated?" she joked.

he nodded and scratched the back of his neck. crap...crap, crap! he had to do something, right? she was single, she said so. but is it wrong to ask the matchmaker on a date? after she poured so much work into finding him a match? he thought for a second, eyes trained on her. in his ears, his shadows whispered encouragingly. this is it...come on!

"is everything okay, azriel?" she asked innocently.

"so i know that this whole thing was to find me a match but i actually really enjoy your time and i think you're beautiful so would you want to go on a date with me instead of sending me on dates with people that i couldn't care less about?" his words came out at lightning speed and he was pleasantly surprised that she understood everything.

a blush came to her cheeks and it matched the pink and red hearts around the room. "seriously?" she asked. he shyly nodded. "i'd love to. tomorrow night? you come by?"

he breathed out a sigh of relief. "yes, tomorrow night. thank you."

the two of them made their way to the door.

"so, no matches at all? not even helga down the street in the butcher shop? she's been looking for someone for yearssss," she said in a sing-song voice.

"cauldron, no. i want you." he was shocked at the confidence that leaked through his words. she blushed again and rose on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

"i'll see you tomorrow. tell mor that my services worked, if you'd be so kind." azriel flew off then with no intentions of telling mor anything that happened.

#acotar #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury

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munsons-hellfire · 2 months

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The Power of Emotions | Eris Vanserra

SUMMARY: You are Feyre’s twin sister. But like your older sisters Elain and Nesta you were thrown into the Cauldron. Now dealing with the repercussions of your powers, your finally allowed to go to an event, where you discover your mate is Eris. Things take a turn for the worse after that.

PAIRINGS: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, family drama, mentions of trauma. If I missed anything else let me know but I think that covers it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this will be split into at least 2 parts maybe more I'm not sure yet. I also changed how the powers could be used. That being said, i'm very excited for this. I hope you all enjoy it!

WORD COUNT: 5.8K

PART 2

Cold. Cold. So cold.

You were drowning, not able to breathe.

Suffocating in the Cauldron.

Your body was changing, you were no longer a human.

Cries left your mouth as you fell out of your bed onto the floor. Shivering, teeth clattering, emotions on high alert. Others crashing into you. It was the same thing every night. Every night never changes since you were thrown into the Cauldron.

You squeezed your eyes shut and pulled your knees up to your chest and moved into the corner of the room like you did every night after your nightmare woke you up. You were silently hoping that someone could help you. But Rhys, and Cassian, and Azriel, and Mor, and Amren, they didn’t know what was happening to you.

Nesta was more concerned about Elain, then she was about you. Though you didn’t blame her, Elain was a ghost in a shell. The days had passed and the only one that had started to show any trace of concern for you had been the three brothers. Every morning one of them would come into your room to give you food and make sure you were up.

Every morning they’d see you in the corner of the room. Your eyes vacant, your knees pulled up to your chest, your arms wrapped around your knees holding them in place, and your empty eyes staring into nothing. They had all tried to talk to you, to get you to move but you didn’t. By nightfall you were too exhausted to hold yourself there anymore that you’d finally eat.

Then afterwards, you’d drink the mint tea that you’d come to love. One of the brothers always made sure there was a sedative in there to make sure you got some sleep. You knew they gave you a sedative but you didn’t mind so much, it allowed you some sleep for a few hours until the same nightmare woke you up again.

But this was different, today was different. Emotions were high, the highest they’d ever been. You could feel everyones, from Rhys, to Cass, to Az, to Mor, to Amren (or what she’d let slip), to Nesta, and to Elain. Dear sweet Elain, hers were the strongest, and they were hurting you. Tears were slipping down your face.

You were in the middle of the room crying, silently. Your teardrops fell to the lush black carpet in your room. Finally you couldn’t take it anymore and stood, then you started pacing around the room. Your words were chipped, but they were the same phrases.

“Stop.”, “Please.”, “No, no, no.” All these were the same phrases that left your mouth. Your eyes were almost empty. There was pain in them, not from the nightmare you’d had but it was there. This alone was just from feeling Elain’s emotions. You didn’t understand why hers were so strong today. You still hadn’t processed the fact that you could feel emotions.

As a human you’d always been good with picking up on people’s emotions, but now it was heightened. Now it was miserable. Feyre had been back for a few days now, no one had told her just how bad it had been for you, until he had finally broken and told her before they’d gone to sleep. Rhys stood next to his mate, pain in his eyes.

Feyre was messing with her fingers, staring at her twin. They were watching you pace around your bedroom repeating the same phrases over and over. Mumbling to yourself as you pull on your hair. Emotions were everywhere, you could even feel yours. It was overwhelming and you were drowning in the sea of emotions.

You still hadn’t told them that you could feel, sense, and manipulate emotions. You didn’t understand it though so maybe that’s why you hadn’t mentioned anything to them. Maybe that’s why you had dealt with it for so long. While it was too much at the end of the day it was better than being stuck in that Cauldron all over again.

Feyre briefly pulled her blue-gray eyes away from you and connected with violet eyes that had become oh so familiar to her. “She’s been like this since you came back from Hybern?” Feyre questioned her mate.

Rhys gave a nod of his head. “Yes. If not pacing then she’d been in the corner of her room, knees to her chest, vacant stare. She’d stay in that position until she grew exhausted and we could get her to eat and drink.” Rhys explained. He then paused, running his hand through his black locks. “Then it repeats, then some days she’ll be pacing. Today, Az… he said that it’s been a rough morning.”

Feyre looks back at her twin. “What does that mean?” Her voice is broken as she asks the question and it pains Rhys to see her in pain over her twin.

“I don’t know. I might have a theory but I’m not sure yet.”

A broken sob escaped your lips. You fell to the floor, covering your pointed ears. Elain’s sadness was swimming around you, hitting you right in the face and you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t block her and everyone else.

“Stop.” You whispered. “Stop. Stop. Stop. Make it stop.”

You cried harder, more tears falling down your face and onto the carpet. Feyre stepped into the room leaving her mates side as the General and Shadowsinger appeared behind Rhys. This was the first time since she had returned from the Spring Court that she was seeing you. The first night Feyre got back you’d been asleep, knocked out. You weren’t mad at all, though you had assumed that she hadn’t stopped by when she had.

“Make it stop, please.”

“What’s wrong, sister?” Feyre asked, kneeling down next to you.

When she placed a hand on your back her emotions filled you, tangled with Elain’s emotions as well as everyone else's. A scream of agony broke free from your mouth. You scrambled on your legs backing away from Feyre, moving to the corner of the room and pulling your legs to your chest as you hid your head behind your arms. The three brothers saw the hurt look that had washed onto Feyre’s face. But it quickly disappeared.

“Tell me what’s wrong sister.” Feyre demanded, moving closer to you.

Feyre needed to know why you had recoiled at her touch, why you’d moved to the corner of the room, why you’d been acting so so different from Nesta and Elain since coming out of the Cauldron Made. Feyre briefly looked back at her husband.

“E-Elain, she’s so sad. So sad. It hurts.” You cried out. “You, you’re happy, and sad, and confused. Everyone else… it’s a mix, it’s all over the place. Please make it go away.”

Azriel knew exactly what you were. Rhysand knew exactly what you were, what you were capable of. Cassian tightened his jaw, this was going to be a headache. Not so much because he didn’t like you. No he already loved you like a sister, but if this was the confirmation of your powers they’d have to keep you hidden. They’d have to keep you hidden from Beron. He’d want you for his own personal gain. This was not good.

“What do we do now?” Azriel asked his brother.

“We keep her hidden until she’s controlled her powers.” Rhys spoke, both in Cassian’s and Azriel’s mind.

“First we need to get Feyre out.” Cassian added.

“Feyre, darling,” Rhys spoke out loud. Rhys stepped into the room and held his hand out towards Feyre as she looked back at him. “I need you to come with me back past the door.” He said softly, his violet eyes steady on his mate.

“What? Why? I’m not leaving my sister. I’m not leaving her alone to deal with this. I refuse to do that.” Feyre said, still looking at Rhys.

“Trust me.” Those were the only words that left his mouth.

The battle raged in her eyes between wanting to help her sister and wanting to listen to Rhys. She looked back at her twin. She hated seeing you in this kind of pain. So Feyre stood from the floor and walked towards Rhys placing her hand in his. He pulled her out of the room, seconds later a shield had been placed on the entire room.

You could breathe, somewhat. You opened your eyes feeling only your emotions and no one else's, Amren included. It was just as it was before you’d come out of the Cauldron, before you could feel every single emotion in that dreaded room including that King. You could still feel your power, still access it, but it was more contained by the shield Rhys had put up to protect you.

Finally you pulled your hands away from your face. Your eyes immediately found your sisters, for the first time since exiting the Cauldron a small smile graced your lips.

“How’d you do that?” You asked, eyes on Rhys as you picked yourself up from the ground and walked away from the corner. You moved closer to the door and stared at each of them.

“You’re an Empath, Y/N.” Azriel stated, Feyre looked at him with the same shock that you had on your face.

“You can feel everyone’s emotions, can manipulate them and use them to your advantage. You can even manipulate your own. You’re a very powerful Empath, considering they’re a legend. You just don’t know how to control your power yet.” Cassian added, reciting from what he knew of Empath’s.

“This shield will protect you from our emotions while you learn to control your powers. If any of us step inside your room we will have a shield around us so you can’t feel them until you're ready to try and manipulate them.” Rhys paused, his violet eyes falling onto Feyre. “We’ll need to learn all the history we have on Empath’s, it’s not much but it’ll help. We will help you learn to control it, Y/N.”

You gave a nod of your head. “Thank you.” You breathed out. For the first time since you’d arrived at the Night Court you finally felt a sense of peace. To know the true name of your ability, it no longer seemed like a curse.

It had taken you six years to fully train your powers. During that time you’d healed, you’d trained with Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie. You’d done the Blood Rite with them and completed it. You became a Valkyrie. You’d never again be the same as you were when they broke into your home, took you away. You’d never be weak again.

Your powers had become your friend, you’d learned to block emotions out that weren’t your own. You’d learned to manipulate them, to get others to do whatever you needed with just the single ability of manipulating your emotions. It would’ve helped in the Blood Rite but you made it far.

Training with your older sister had allowed the two of you to heal the broken relationship you’d had with each other. Now you couldn’t imagine not having a close relationship with Nesta. You were finally ready to step outside the Night Court for the first time since being Made. Rhysand wanted to test the limits of your powers.

Tamlin was hosting a party in his Court. Most were hesitant to travel to the Spring Court. He sent word that his court was finally rebuilt. He was hosting a ball. All Courts were invited, though you doubted that anyone from at least the Autumn Court would show. In the six years it had taken you to hone your powers you had discovered what they made you capable of.

Cassian was right, you truly were powerful and if Beron found out he’d want to have you. He knew that Beron would like that you could manipulate the emotions of others. That would likely be the moment they’d strike their bargain with Eris and kill the male so Eris could take over as the High Lord. You stood near a wall, a glass of wine in hand. You were near Cassian and Nesta, who were on the dance floor with a few others.

Some of the High Lords had stopped by and asked for a dance. You’d turn them down except for Helion. He’d piqued your interest. He was a beautiful male, it was glorious that he had created Lucien. Elain and Lucien were perfect for each other. In fact all your family was perfect with their mates. Even Mor and Emerie had started seeing each other and it made you so excited.

But now more than ever you felt so alone. You were thankful to be Feyre’s twin sister and thankful that they’d hidden you to keep you safe but now you felt as though you were missing something. You swirled your red wine around before taking a sip of it. Your eyes landed on your twin. She was so happy, dancing with Rhys with his hand on her belly. They were expecting their second child.

Nyx was also on the dance floor, the happiest smile on his little face as he danced with his parents. Everyone was happy, so so happy. And you, well, you were sad, so so sad. It was moments like these where you missed having your father around. A tear slipped down your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. But that didn’t stop more from falling down.

There was a presence beside you, and now more than ever you wished the wall would swallow you whole so this stranger didn’t have to see you cry. You shouldn’t be crying; this was a happiest event. Tamlin had announced his mate's pregnancy at the start of the ball and here you were crying because you missed your father and you felt so alone.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” His voice was oh so soothing as it echoed through your pointed ears. It was a voice you wouldn’t mind hearing on a regular basis. You were drawn to it and you didn’t even know why.

“My apologies.” You remarked, still not looking at the male. You’d tried to keep your voice steady as the words came out but it was broken. He kept his gaze on you, like he was refusing to remove his eyes from you.

“Oh, come on, Little Fox. Don’t be so mean.” He paused when you finally turned to get a better look at him. You took in his toned body or rather what you could see through the warm Autumn suit he’d been wearing. His red hair was short but styled neatly. Finally your eyes landed on his beautiful amber eyes. “Like what you see, Little Fox?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “As if.” You mumbled, looking back down at your wine.

“I’ll repeat what I’ve already said, I don’t believe we’ve met.” He said holding his hand out to you hoping you’d take it. While he didn’t know exactly who you were aside from belonging to the Night Court just from the scandalous dress you were wearing. That was one thing he was certain of, the other being that you were his mate. He felt the golden thread in his chest the moment his amber eyes landed on you.

“I’m Y/N. I’m Feyre’s twin sister.” You said, taking a hold of his hand and shaking it. There was a spark she felt when he touched his hand, though she wasn’t sure if it was due to his powers or because she felt something between them. And for some reason, you couldn’t get a read on his emotions which was odd considering you could feel everyone else's.

“Eris Vanserra.” He paused looking out at your sister and her mate who were now looking over at you two. “I didn’t know Feyre had another sister let alone a twin. You two look nothing alike.”

You smiled at the mere mention of his name. Oddly enough you wanted to say it more and it was included in the bedroom. Shock found your face, why were these thoughts all of a sudden coming to mind.

“We get that a lot.” You smiled softly at him. The male felt that his knees would give out any moment if you continued to smile at him.

“Would you care for a dance?” He asked, hoping you’d say yes.

“I’d like that very much.” You placed your drink down on the table and placed a hand in Eris’.

He pulled you out to the dance floor. Some of the other’s had stopped dancing to watch you and Eris. He placed one hand on your hip while the other was in your hand. You rested your other hand on his shoulder, that sweet smile he was starting to like was still on your lips. Music began playing and the two of you began to dance, ignoring everyone in the room.

“So, dear Y/N, why has your High Lord and Lady kept you a secret?” Eris asked, as you and him spun around the room. More eyes were on you now but still you didn’t care. It was only you and Eris in the room and no one else.

“After I came out of the Cauldron I had a really hard time with a lot of things including controlling my power. They kept me locked up and protected until I got control. I trained with my older sister, made some new friends. Completed the Blood Rite and became a Valkyrie. Now I work alongside Cassian and Azriel going on missions. But Feyre and Rhys thought it was a good idea to finally bring me into the world of the Fae officially.” You explained.

Angry flared inside his chest at the mention of what had happened to you. “They kept you locked up?” He asked, bypassing everything else.

“It was a universal agreement, I couldn’t step outside the shield.” You shouldn’t be telling him this. But you felt comfortable around him, you trusted him completely.

“They locked you up.”

“Why does it bother you? We barely know each other.” You paused taking a breather. You didn’t want to talk about your powers not here. But he wasn’t giving you a choice, and you were trying to manipulate his emotions to move him away from the topic but it wasn’t working. It was like he was immune to your powers.

“It doesn’t matter. They kept you locked up these last 6 years.” His voice was the same.

“No. No. No.” You paused, then the two of you stopped dancing and the room erupted into an applaud.

But you didn’t hear it, your ears were ringing. The gold thread was tying around your heart. You were lifting your hand to your chest, a gasp coming from your lips. Eris was your mate, and suddenly everything made sense. You grabbed his hand tightly and pulled him off the dance floor leading him out of the room. Rhys and Feyre had watched the exchange between you two.

“She’s his mate.” Feyre said, a devastated look on her face.

“I think so, Feyre, darling.” Rhys’ voice was smooth as he agreed with her.

You and Eris walked into the hallway where no one else was. You walked into another room and closed the door behind you. Eris stood still watching as you turned from the door and looked at the male that was your mate. You knew the stories surrounding him, you had heard what he had done to Mor and now you were even more confused that the Mother thought this male was supposed to be your mate.

As you looked at the princling before you, you saw the sudden change in his posture. It was just the two of you and there was no audience. This male standing in front of you was so different from the mask he wore outside surrounded by everyone else.

“Why did they lock you up? Why did they keep you away from me? Six years they kept you hidden from me. Six years we could’ve had to get to know each other, exploring each other.” Eris’s anger was evident in his voice and you were trying so hard to change the way he was feeling but it still wasn’t working.

Tears started to break through again. “Because I was thrown in that Gods damned Cauldron. I was turned into a High Fae against my will. I struggled to not only control my emotions but I struggled to control blocking out everyone else's emotions. They were attacking me and I couldn’t breathe, I was drowning from the nightmares, from the emotions, from the pain of everything. I’m an Empath for crying out loud and for the life of me I can’t figure out why I can’t manipulate your emotions.”

The words left your lips before you even had a chance to stop them. Suddenly Eris was in front of you, his hands cupped your cheeks. He was wiping the tears from your face, a soft look on his face.

“Shh.” He whispered softly. “I don’t know how much you know about an Empath, but typically they aren’t able to manipulate their mates emotions because their mate doesn’t need to hide anything from them.”

You looked up with tears at the edge of your eyes. “Ooh.” You nodded your head. You closed your eyes, inhaled, exhaled, then opened them again. “Rhys and Feyre wanted to keep me hidden out of fear that your father would take me and use my powers for his own advantage.” You felt Eris’s breathing stop, his body went still and he clenched his jaw as he looked down at you.

“I will not ever let my father get near you. You are my mate, I will protect you until my last dying breath.”

You couldn’t stop yourself, the gold thread in your chest was humming. You closed the space between you and Eris, then you placed your lips on his kissing him softly. He pushed you back against the door kissing you harder. His hand moved to the door knob and locked it to make sure no one would come in and interrupt you two.

Your hands find purchase in Eris’ red locks and you pull on them. You pull back from the kiss staring at him with glazed eyes. This is the last thing you expected to happen, but you need him, you need to feel him. Eris pulls your hands and walks you over to the bed. He pushes you down and crawls on top of you. His mouth finds your neck and he sucks some of your soft skin into his mouth. Eris moves his way down his mouth moving between your breasts.

His hands slid up your waist until they made contact with your breasts. A gasp left your mouth when he squeezed one of your nipples. Your scent was starting to mix with his and it caused a groan to leave his lips. Eris pulled his hands away from your nipple and moved down your body. Pulling your dress up off your body until it eventually comes off.

The only thing you were left in was your underwear and heels. An annoyed groan left your lips as you stared at Eris noticing he still had all of his clothes on. You leaned up just after he pulled your heels off and threw them onto the floor. You moved your hands up the length of his arm, pulling around his shoulder and down.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt at the bottom and pulled it upwards towards his head until it was off and discarded somewhere in the room. You placed a devious smirk on your lips as you moved your hands down towards his cock. It was hard and you couldn’t help but widen the smirk. You stood to your knees and shoved your hands down his pants dripping his cock tightly.

A moan left his mouth, his eyes fluttering close. “Gods.” A whisper breath left his mouth. You moved your other hand up and started to untie the strings until his pants were loose enough. Then you removed your hand helping him out of the rest of his clothes. You sat him down on the edge of the bed and moved in between his knees.

Your hand wraps around his cock and you start stroking it. Leaning forward you take his cock into your mouth swirling your tongue around the head. Eris lifts his hand grabbing onto your hair and moves it out of the way so he can watch you take his cock further into your mouth. You couldn’t fit the rest of his cock in your mouth so you used your hand to pump the rest.

This hadn’t been the first time you’d slept with someone you didn’t know. But Eirs was your mate, and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life only hearing his moans as you sucked his cock. You pulled back, moving your hand up and down his length. You slipped your tongue out and moved to the bottom of the base and licked all the way to the top.

You sucked the head of his cock back into your mouth moving further on his length until you started to gag. Eris exhaled, pulling you off before you could have a chance to make him cum. You looked up at him, a sly smile on your lips.

“As much as I’d like to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours I need to be inside of you now.” Eris stood and picked you up, throwing you on the bed. Your legs were bent at the knees. He grabbed a hold of your underwear and pulled them off, throwing them on the floor. He moved closer to your cunt and licked a stripe from bottom to top tasting your juices.

He groaned at your taste. A moan left your lips and Eris moved up your body. He grabbed onto his cock and slid it through your folds getting his cock wet. Eris finally thrust his cock inside you, both you and him moaning in unison. Eris bottomed out inside you. His arms rested on either side of your head and you had wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Gods, you’re so tight, Little Fox.” He moaned out, closing the space between you and kissing your lips again.

“Please.” You whispered when he pulled back from your mouth.

“Please what?” He asked with a stern voice.

“Please move.”

He smirked at you. “Such a pretty Little Fox.” He whispers in your ear.

Eris pulls out, then shoves his cock back in. He starts to pick up his pace, his hips slamming into you. Another moan escapes your lips, your eyes close tightly feeling him inside you. Feeling so close to him like you’ve never felt before.

“So good.” You moan out. Eris pulls one of his hands away from your head and wraps it around your neck. A groan escapes your lips as he tightens his hand around your neck. You can feel your orgasm getting closer just as you feel Eris hit that sweet spot inside you. “Close.”

“What a needy little thing you are, mate.” He breaths, continuing to snap his hips into you. His cock pulled out only to be pushed back in. He can feel himself getting closer to his release but he wants you to get your release first.

“Yes. Gods yes.” You reply. The thrum of the gold bond sitting in both your chest grows brighter and brighter as you both get closer to your release. Eris pulls his hand from your throat and moves his thumb down to your clit circling it. That’s all it takes, your release hits you and you tighten around his cock.

“That’s it. Cum for me, Little Fox. I’m the only one who will ever make you feel this good. You’re mine.” He tells you.

“Yours, all yours.” You moan out. Finally Eris feels his release hitting him. He spilled deep inside you. Dropped his head into your chest and exhaled. Eris slowly pulled out and laid down on the bed next to you and pulled you into his chest. You felt the blanket being over you, your head rested on Eris’s chest. “So what now?” Your voice was soft and afraid as you asked the question.

Your earlier words of what his father might do to you replayed in his mind, Eris turned his head and looked at you finding you already looking up at him. “I think it’s time I kill my father.” He whispered.

You picked yourself up, pulling the sheet with you to cover your chest. Eris was standing pulling his pants up. There was a serious look on your face. “What? You can’t be serious? I mean that’s… Why do you want to do that?”

Eris turned around, his amber eyes resting on you. “I’m protecting my mate-” Before anymore words could leave his mouth the door was slammed open. Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, Nesta and Azriel walked into the room.

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking at your family.

“We could ask you the same. Sleeping with the enemy?” Azriel questioned a voice void of any emotion.

“Please, get out.” You whispered softly, looking away from them. Yes they were your family and you loved them all but they still made you feel like you weren’t a part of the family. Eris noticed the sudden change in your body, like you were trying to pull away. Feyre looked at the boys, and they turned around. Then Nesta walked over to you grabbing your clothes.

“Get up, get dressed, we’re leaving.” Nesta ordered. She gripped your arm and pulled you from the bed. A whimper escaped your lips.

“Let go of her.” Eris ordered, his angry eyes resting on Nesta’s grip on your arm. You and Nesta looked back at the male.

“She’s my sister.”

“And she’s my mate, and you’re hurting her. Let go of her.” The glare was evident on his face as he continued to stare.

“Go get changed now, Y/N.” Nesta was glaring back at the male. You nodded your head and walked into the bathroom. You could hear them arguing as you changed back into your dress. You didn’t want this. You opened the door and the scene before you horrified you.

“Stop. What are you doing?” You asked Azriel who had a knife to your mates throat. He looked back at you.

“He’s manipulating you, Y/N.” You could feel everyone’s emotions. They were all on high alert, Eris had his eyes on you. He was calm, it was like he was trying to make sure you stayed calm too.

“How? How is my mate manipulating me?” Your eyes were glowing, something none of them had seen when they started training you to control your powers.

“He lured you to bed, slept with you. Now you're defending him, he’ll use it against you.” Nesta’s voice filled your ears and you looked at your older sister.

“Get out. None of you get to decide who I sleep around with. None of you decide anything for me. You’ve all kept me hidden for 6 years because you thought Beron would capture me and use me against my own will. And you might be right, that might still happen. But Eris, my mate, he will not do that to me.” You didn’t realize what you were doing until Eris was in front of you.

“Let them go.” His voice was soft, his hands cupping your face as you contorted your face in confusion.

“What?” Finally you looked around the room, your eyes landed on Azriel who was grunting over in pain, then your eyes found your older sister. She too was in the same position. “I-I did this?” You asked, staring at Eris. Feyre was near Nesta while Cassian and Rhys were helping Azriel from the ground.

“It’s ok, breathe Little Fox.” Eris gripped your hand, you'd never done something like this that much was clear. Nesta’s eyes landed on you a glare you’d never seen her give you.

“I-I-I’m sorry.”

Suddenly you could feel everyone’s emotions again, you couldn’t control it. You’d hurt two people you cared about so much. A cry left your mouth as you started to back away from Eris.

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean it.” You were shaking your head moving back towards the window.

Rhys, Feyre, and Eris were walking towards you trying to keep you away from the window. The windows were opened but you didn’t know how far of a jump it would be. All you knew is you needed to get out of here. You needed to breathe.

“It’s ok, Y/N. We know you didn’t mean it.” Feyre’s voice said calmly. Everything happened so fast, you felt Rhysand’s power rumbling through the room. You didn’t mean to do anything, but Feyre was on the ground. The same pain that ran through Azriel and Nesta was running through her. The tears were back again.

“I didn’t mean to. Rhys, I’m sorry. I don’t. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Let her go, Y/N.” Rhys’ voice rumbled, suddenly the rest of the High Lords, your sister and her mate, Mor, Emerie, and Gwyn were at the door. Eris looked back and saw his father, he had his eyes on you.

You nodded your head. Eris tried to walk closer to you, but you shook your head. Feyre could breathe again and that was all that mattered. You backed up too closely to the window and before Eris could catch you, you fell out. Eris was the first to turn around and run out of the room heading to the side of the mansion. You groaned, lifting your hand up to your head feeling a wet substance.

You pulled your hand away to see blood dripping down your fingers. Panic still running through your body you stood up and grabbed a hold of your dress taking off running. You felt dizzy. So dizzy. You didn’t know where to go, only that you had to get away. You didn’t make it far though, you ran right into the chest of someone else.

You looked up seeing the one person that Rhys and Feyre had been trying to protect you from the last 6 years. It wasn’t your mate, it wasn’t your sister’s, and it wasn’t any of your friends. Beron placed his hand on your arm and gripped it tightly causing you to whine out at the pain. You were sure that a bruise would be there tomorrow.

“You’re coming with me, Empath.” With those words the two of you winnowed away, disappearing from the party.

#reader insert #x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x archeron reader #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #helion #lucien #tamlin #rhysand #cassian #azriel #gwyneth berdara #emerie #morrigan #beron vanserra #a court of thorns and roses

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rhenysz · 5 months

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Your Dead Eyes - Chapter 1

Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted your all your life, many people say that death was lurking around your eyes, maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron! reader fem.

A/n: This took longer than expected and isn't even half as long as I would have liked, but I've finally finished the first book and let's get to the real story! Thank you for the positive feedback 🙌🏻 This chapter was more about the sisters' bond, the next ones will be different. I think the Reader has an emotional dependence on Feyre 😥

*English is NOT my native language, this fanfic was translated with the help of an AI, any grammatical errors please let me know*

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Scars, family abandonment, mentioned death.

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"Do you not think you're exaggerating?" Elain asked you with forced gentleness. The sound of her sipping tea tickled your ears. Dropping your own teacup on the living room's coffee table – causing some splashes to stain the surface – you placed a hand on your chest in mock indignation, perhaps not entirely fake.

"I'd rather be thrown to the wolves than face the conjugal bed, and I must say I'm terrified of those animals." Your lips curled downward, "Men, in this case."

Elain's eyes crinkled at the corners, and the curve of her lips lifted even as she tried to dispel the amusement she felt.

"I understand. But maybe you should consider, I bet Feyre would return in time for your wedding." She spoke with her eyes lowered to the tea.

No, she wouldn't return. You wanted to shout out to Elain. Hardly would that beast willingly let your sister go, that is if she wasn't already in the belly of those faeries.

"I have no interest in getting married, sister. And who in their right mind would be interested in someone with my condition?" Your voice was soft, not a hint of resentment showing in your features.

Having a man in your life was not something you desired. They were rough, lazy, and smelled bad. Not even the twisted relationship Feyre had with that man could make you want one too.

"Maybe... you just haven't looked in the right place," Elain commented. Looked? Have holy patience. You were hardly going to look at anything, let alone a man. Realizing her bluntness, Elain widened her eyes towards you, "I didn't mean it that way, sister, it was just a figure of speech—"

Your laughter cut off Elain's awkward attempt to apologize. Your shoulders shook with the intensity of your laughter. Elain sighed in relief and awkwardly joined in.

Feyre didn't treat you as if you were about to burst into tears.

After that interesting conversation with Elain, Nesta barged into the room, interrupting – rather rudely – to announce that a luxurious carriage was approaching.

You could hear the rustle of Elain's skirts as she tried to beautify herself even more. Despite Nesta feigning an indifferent facade, she was also discreetly arranging her hair.

Laughing to yourself, you wondered how you must look in your supposed light blue dress. A hand grabbed your arm and gently lifted you from the sofa. Nesta, you could tell the difference. Elain had rougher hands from gardening, and Nesta's hands were colder.

"Let's go. Can you manage on your own?" Nesta asked. You appreciated that she allowed you to have your own autonomy. Nodding, you reached for the edge of the sofa where your cane rested and grabbed it.

When you heard the door opening, your head turned towards the sound and you went, dragging the golden tip of the cane across the floor, which hit the furniture warning you to dodge, and slowly going after your sisters – who were walking significantly slower to wait for you.

His cane hit the front door step. Carefully, you placed your foot in front to descend. The breeze made your hair flutter, and it felt so good; the wind kissed your skin like a longing lover.

"Welcome to our home... Lady." You heard Nesta as you finally caught up with your sisters. A brief moment of silence followed, soon to be cut by an extremely familiar laughter

.Your heart raced, and your free hand crumpled the dress you were wearing. Your lifeless eyes turned, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Nesta," she laughed, "doesn't recognize her own sister?" The air was expelled from your lungs, Feyre. A burning sensation started in your eyes, and without you realizing, fat tears streamed down your flushed cheeks. No matter how or where, you would always, always recognize your sister's voice.

The crunching of dried leaves alerted you that someone was approaching, a calm breath was blown on your face. Your trembling lips also parted as you tried to find the right words. Nothing came to mind; it was as if your brain had turned to jelly.

"My snowflake..." Feyre stepped forward, using her fingers to wipe away your tears. She missed you so much while she was with Tamlin. Her chest weighed every time she thought of you, her dearest sister.

Closing your eyes tightly, you let out a sob and threw yourself into Feyre's arms. Discarding the cane without care, your hands reached the back of your sister, pulling her into a tight and emotional embrace.

Feyre staggered under your weight and laughed. She laughed as she nestled in your arms and continued to laugh even as she felt Nesta's eyes drilling holes into her head.

You couldn't physically move away from Feyre while your sisters talked with her. Your hand clung to hers in the hope that if you held on tight enough, she wouldn't leave again.

But not even all the happiness you were feeling could make you ignore Feyre's excuse. Taking care of Aunt Ripleigh? You distinctly remembered that it wasn't Aunt Ripleigh who tore the door off the old cabin.

As expected, Nesta was cautious, hovering over you and Elain as if Feyre would reveal her true intentions at any moment. She declined Elain's invitation to go to the garden, seeing Feyre there made her physically sick, so she withdrew to avoid conflicts in front of her sisters.

You were focused on Feyre and Elain's conversation, desperately wanting her to talk about what happened.

Feyre tensed when Elain casually mentioned – distracted by the flowers – that Nesta visited her at Aunt Ripleigh's. Another lie.

You felt Feyre's breath near your face: "How have you been?"

Fine. You were fine, but not well enough to disguise the suspicion in your expression. Feyre quickly noticed and stepped back slightly.

"Why are you lying to us?" You were direct, no more beating around the bush. You needed answers, and not even Elain's presence would distract you from your goal.

Feyre widened her eyes toward Elain and was relieved to see that she was far enough away not to hear. Biting her lips, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the exit, giving a brief goodbye to Elain, who was so fascinated by the new petunia seedlings that she didn't care.

You were guided through a few doors until you reached a room that Feyre considered safe from curious ears.

You crossed your arms over your chest and impatiently waited for Feyre, who ran her hand through her hair and sighed, not knowing where to start. Then she decided to start with the worst.

"I– I'm in love with the High Lord of Prythian."

If you weren't already blind, you could swear your vision blurred at that moment.

And then Feyre told you, told about how the other side of the wall was breathtaking, told about the peculiar creatures that existed there, told about her frenemy Lucien, and told about how she fell in love with the beast that turned out to be so loving to her.

And to your dismay, she detailed the night of passion she had before being – gently – sent home.

"I didn't need to know that. I have a vivid imagination, and I hate myself for it." You spoke with disgust; Feyre chuckled and approached you, taking your hand and bringing it to her face.

"I haven't told you everything," you murmured for her to continue. Your fingers traced the contours of her face. She looked so different but at the same time so familiar. Perhaps she had become healthy.

"There was a male who threatened Tamlin, he was handsome, maybe the most beautiful male I've ever seen," she commented absentmindedly, "he asked for my name... Clare Beddor."

Clare Beddor, the name weighed on your tongue. Clare, your former neighbor who was killed in such a horrendous way that no one could bear to look for too long, according to your gossip source – Elain.

Feyre had given a false name to the fairy assassin. And you could swear she didn't know what had happened to that poor girl. And perhaps you weren't the most suitable person to tell her about the event; Feyre seemed happy sharing her new experiences. And you? You would allow yourself to be selfish for a moment.

"I understand."

Your sisters and your father went to the seasonal ball, and despite Elain's insistence, that wasn't your place. Your place was anywhere as long as it was far from high society. You certainly didn't fit the standards imposed by them, even though those who looked at you were dazzled.

"A beauty never seen before."

"I would die for features as delicate as yours."

"It's truly a shame…"

Feyre promised to come back early, just like you; she didn't like crowds and pompous people. Feyre promised to come back early.

So you did the only thing that was possible – you waited. Waited while eating, waited while talking to some servants, waited while invading Elain's garden, and waited until you got tired and chose the living room sofa as a great place to rest.

Inevitably, your eyes began to weigh, and before you realized it, sleep completely took you, plunging you into a deep state of peace, unable to hear the hurried steps through the house and the slam of the door closing.

Feyre promised to come back early.

Feyre hated goodbyes.

Perhaps, just perhaps, you should have already imagined that this would happen. Feyre was in love with the beast, and people in love tend to do foolish things.

That didn't ease the chest pain you felt when the next morning you were informed that she had returned to the fae lands in search of her High Lord. The feelings of betrayal and sadness walked hand in hand.

At the same time, you couldn't find the strength to harbor resentment towards her. Why would you? For the first time in her life, your sister was dedicating herself to something that truly made her happy. It didn't matter if she was leaving her family behind, right? No, that mattered to you.

Nesta hated dealing with your whirlwind of emotions; she hated that you depended on someone to be happy, and she made it clear when you woke up.

"Feyre is not responsible for what you feel. You are allowing yourself to stay in this state. Stop depending on her to live."

Despite being harsh, Nesta was spot-on with her words. Feyre was finally living her dream life; it was time for you to start living yours too, without anyone dictating how you should feel.

And thinking about this led you to where you were now, with your hands covered in clay – and probably not just your hands – trying to give some shape to that earthy mass on the spinning table in the studio.

Your mind wandered through all the possibilities of sculpture. Sculpting things your fingers had memorized or even inventing new forms to call conceptual. It would be ironic if your sculptures became famous.

Humming to yourself, your fingers gently moved over the clay's edges, shaping a small sphere; you pulled five points out and rounded the edges.

"They look like fingers." Merina's voice made you jump on the stool; Merina was one of the maids you had become close to, she had such a calm and gentle voice that, if you let her, could lull you to sleep.

"Well, I hope so. I'd be very upset if they looked like something else." You laughed, still molding your supposed fingers. Merina dragged a stool to join you, after, of course, looking down the hall to make sure no one was approaching.

She looked amazed at your hands giving life to the clay. Inevitably, her mind wandered, how? How were you capable? Feeling where your mind wandered, you chuckled softly and tilted your head in a silent invitation. Merina cleared her throat and asked:

"Why a hand?"

You subtly widened your eyes; that certainly wasn't the question you were expecting. A hum came from your throat before you answered Merina.

"It's with my hands that I see; they are my eyes to the world," you replied, licking your lips as you pondered, "I don't know how I manage it; I fear there's no logical explanation for it."

Merina didn't say anything, just grunted in response. Extending your hand, you searched the table until you found a small knife; bringing it close to the sculpture, you began making small fillets with it all along the hand's length.

Merina turned to you curiously, not understanding why you were deforming the piece. She gently nudged you with a – painfully pointed – question.

"Hmm, I've been thinking about it lately, hands with scars," you made one final cut and dropped the knife. Merina reached for an old cloth to help you clean your hands, "thank you. What would it be like to see with these hands? Would the texture of things be different? Or would the sensitivity be greater?" You rambled to her.

There were so many questions to consider, and in your opinion, you could already be considered a hands expert. That made you laugh.

Merina took the cloth from your hands and brought it toward your face, cleaning some clay splatters that had strayed there.

"I hope you don't have the answers on your own. It must be a horrible pain to have your hands torn apart." She commented, lowering the cloth.

A horrible pain? Makes sense. Whoever has hands like that must have a melancholic story behind them.

"You're right."

As promised, you lived your life the best way possible, and sculptures paved the way to your heart. Over time, your clay skills became refined, even daring to sculpt the features of your sisters; Nesta was your biggest supporter, even if she didn't admit it, there wasn't a day she didn't pass by to make sure your stock was full.

Each sister had their own shelf containing everything you thought resembled them. Elain had sculpted flowers and cakes, Nesta had books and red jewels, and Feyre had an arrow – just a sculpture, but it was the one you dedicated the most time to, whether smoothing the edges or trying to paint in the right places.

Because even though Feyre was a million miles away, you would love her all the way, and even if she never came back, you would find your way to her through the heart.

You wouldn't wait for her, but you wouldn't forget everything you had been through together.

And you might not even believe she would come back, but that tingling you felt in your fingers when you heard a knock on the door made you doubt your mental state.

It may be that besides being blind, you're also becoming deaf because hearing your sister's name from Elain's lips after so long is not a sign of good auditory nostalgia.

"Feyre?"

TAGLIST:

@dearestdaffodils @going-through-shit

@valeridarkness @wallacewillow0773638

@harrystylesfan2686 @carnationworld

@applerubyy @saltedcoffeescotch

@esposadomd @justdreamstars

@microwaveallthedemons

#~rhenysz #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #slow burn #eventual smut #eventual romance #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron

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tadpolesonalgae · 6 months

Text

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 8

Pairing: Azriel x third-oldest-Archeron-sister!Reader

A/N: Writing Nesta post-acosf is so confusing so I apologise if she’s a little ooc!

Word Count: 5,552

-Part 7- -🌌🌠- -Part 9-

It’s been while since you last ate with all of them.

Even so, the atmosphere is familiar. Jovial. Pleasant enough you can allow yourself to slip into spectation, vanishing in your mind’s eyes, becoming an observer without presence. Shadows flicker at the corner of your vision, and you’re brought back down to reality.

The restaurant lights are warm and yellowy, a magic barrier constructed at the room’s border to keep the temperature pleasantly mild, inky darkness swirling just beyond the threshold. Candles flicker, almost in time with his shadows. It’s hard to tell when natural darkness ends and his begins. But he doesn’t really like it when people stare at them, so you avert your eyes. Scratch the backs of your hands beneath the table, softened a little by cream.

By what you can only assume was a stroke of bad luck—or good, depending how you want to feel for the rest of the night—everyone had already settled into the dinner by the time you arrived, leaving a single seat open. Yes, you could’ve pulled over a chair, or requested one to be magically summoned, but that would be drawing attention to the issue, which would undoubtedly make the ineffable off-ness of your relationship with him that much more blatant.

So there he is, a steady presence to your left, situated at one end of the table. Elain to your right. How unfortunate. Or lucky, depending on the angle.

Take a sip of your water, unsticking your tongue from the roof of your mouth. Lean slightly over to your sister. “Have I missed anything?” Cocoa flick to you, warm and soft in the mellow light, a little tired. Half-circles beneath her eyes. “Nothing much. I was planning on visiting Lucien again—hopefully within the week.” She answers mildly, a faint smile in her eyes. “There’s also a possibility of Nesta going over to have a look at the libraries in the Day Court.”

“Woah,” you mumble. “Looking for anything in particular, or simply for recreation?”

Elain shrugs, eyes flicking across the table. “Ask her,” she says simply.

Spine stiffens.

With fae hearing, plus the close proximity, there’s a high chance everyone heard that exchange. Refusing to do so will only draw more attention. You shoot Elain a reproachful look for putting you in this situation but she smiles encouragingly.

You find the elegant shape of your eldest sister a little further down the table—across and two over. Opposite Cassian who is beside Elain. Sharp eyes flit to your own a second after you’ve sought her out—she definitely heard. At least you didn’t vocalise any dismay over the forced interaction.

“Day Court?” You inquire, raising your brows in interest. She nods, lips parting in a smile, “quite the trip, isn’t it.” You laugh—trying to remember where the Day Court is in conjunction with Night. Come up short. “Already read through all the books here?” You reply, trying to keep the conversation fluid. Gaze absently flicks over the various plates and trays of food, picking out the things you’d like to try. A waft of something delicious floats down the table—a covered bowl sits between Rhys and Feyre. Soup, most likely. It has your mouth watering from the scent alone. Would be divine with some buttered bread.

“Nowhere near,” she responds, still smiling. “But there’s a particular author we’re after, and I’d like to see if I can find more of his books in those libraries.” You hum, nodding your head in acknowledgement. “Different from The Runaway?” She blinks, then nods, “you’ve read it already?”

“Yeah. Finished it last week,” you answer, peering at the dishes closer to you, wonder what you can pick. It’s mostly meat. Some roast potatoes, poultry next along covered in an orange-red sauce that smells spicy.

“What did you think?” She asks, carefully ladling gravy to the edge of her own plate. It’s your turn to blink, recalling the story to the forefront of your mind. Exhale heavily, leaning back into the chair. “I don’t know, really,” you admit honestly, “there was a lot in it, I suppose. I’m still digesting it, in a way. Do you know what I mean?” She nods, eyes softening at the edges—you’ve said the right thing. “I think there’s a lot in it; a lot happened to him, and I think it did a good job on highlighting how perspective can be manipulated. I also like how the creature was only alluded to in earlier chapters while the first part of the plot was unfolding so you end up overlooking it?”

She gracefully cuts through a potato, dipping it in the gravy before neatly depositing it in her mouth. Elegant and refined. “Yes, I thought that was an interesting way of telling his story. The complications between Yvette and Hans helped with the initial distraction, I think.” Lips twists into a slight frown. “The section—I think around chapter seventeen? Eighteen…?” You pause, picturing how far through the book it was, then shake your head. “Around there, anyway. The section about those lights in the sky?— I had to put the book down for a bit.” You admit, smiling as you recall the passage.

Nesta nods her head. “I couldn’t believe it, either. I think I actually had to stand up and get myself another cup of tea to calm down when he connected the dots.” A grin parts your lips wider, skin warming at the memory. “Anyway,” you say, redirecting the conversation, “a different author.”

She nods in confirmation, “a different author.”

“Romance?” You ask, remembering her appreciation for the genre.

Something passes through the room, hairs slowly raising at the back of your neck. Eyes slide to Elain, but she’s conversing with Cassian, attention shifted away from you. Gaze flicks back to Nesta who has a tight smile on her lips—it’s still odd to see her smiling so openly and frequently.

“No, actually,” she begins slowly, cutlery lowering to her plate. Her fingers remain pressed tight to the metal. “It’s a spell-book,” she says, silvery-blue eyes gleaming like moonlight despite the warm glow about the private space. Brow furrows a little as you peer at her across the table, “a spell-book?” You ask. “What do you need a spell-book for?” Her spine straightens, attention moving to her meal as she slices into some meat, mouth opening to continue.

“The baby warrior’s been having doubts about his wingspan, I’ll bet,” Amren croons from across the table, snatching your attention. Your brow dips further, eyes now shifting to find Cassian further down the table—the other side of Elain. He seems fine, laughing brightly. “Is there a problem with them?” You ask Nesta, remembering how torn up they’d been after the mess with Hybern and the cauldron.

She shakes her head, lips lifting into a grin as she meets Amren’s steel-coloured eyes. “She’s just jealous,” Nesta returns, “Varian not treating you well?” Sharp eyes flash with challenge. “Maybe they should compare notes. I’m sure your mate could learn a thing or two,” she taunts, effectively ending your conversation with Nesta. A part of you wants to learn more—your natural inclination—but Amren’s whisked her away into conversation, Mor stuck between them.

Attention again flits to Elain, but she’s still contained in conversation with Cassian, leaving only the keen pair of eyes on your left to entertain yourself with. Raise the glass to your lips, forcing down a mouthful of the alcohol, ignoring the light pulsing in the forefront of your head. Skin prickles beneath his attention, fingers shifting over your cutlery as you move to take food to your plate.

It seems rude to interrupt Elain’s conversation—you always go to her first. She speaks to people other than you, and probably enjoys doing so. You should leave her to enjoy the night. Take another drink of the clear liquid, shadows flickering in your peripherals as you set your sights on Nesta. Wait for an opening.

“What do you want the spell-book for?” You ask, feigning ignorance to their conversation. As if the question just appeared on your tongue, falling out before you could stop it. Two sets of sharp eyes cut to you, a single set of caramel flicking to steel warily. “A containment spell,” Nesta answers, slicing up some vegetables on her plate. “To bind.”

Amren’s lip curls into a distinctly predatory grin, almost warning. “Needing to spice things up so early in your relationship?” She croons. “I would have given it at least another few months before you two were in need of a bonding activity.” A fourth pair of eyes joins the discussion though he’s still wrapped in his own exchange. The hazel to your left has probably been observing for some time, too.

Nesta offers the petite female a tight smile, equally warning. Mor claps her hands, hastily breaking up the exchange. “Will you pass that down? Cass, be a dear and— no, next to it— the other side—yes! Thank you!” You watch slightly enviously as she ladles soup into a bowl, taking a slice of fluffy bread and slathering butter over its surface. Trace the soup as it’s returned to its place at the far end of the table, between Rhys and Feyre, one seat down from Nesta and Cassian.

And just like that, dialogue ebbs and flows around, leaving you with no way in. You’re quite glad for the reprieve. These dinners generally leave you in need of a weeks sleep to recover, by which point the next one is already scheduled. Exhausting. You don’t know how they manage it. Attention is still weighing on you as you raise your cutlery, poised to begin slicing into the meat upon your plate.

Elain is still preoccupied—to your steadily growing dismay. Nesta and Amren are locked in a verbal sparring match, while Mor chimes in here and there, occasionally attempting to rope Cassian in, too. Just to stir things up. Shadows flicker in the background.

His attention is becoming difficult to ignore. Clear your throat softly, focusing on cutting through the meat, slicing it into bitesized chunks. “Is something the matter, Azriel?” Shift the cutlery in your hands, easing up the pressure on your knuckles from the effort of cutting. He watches silently, his own plate clean and empty.

“Not at all,” he replies quietly, voice unliltling and void of inflection. Your brow twitches toward the centre, neatly spearing a chunk of flesh. Swallow in preparation. “Nothing?” You question, equally softly, biting down on the dead animal. It comes apart easily on your tongue, softened in a skillet somewhere, bathed in oils and rosemary, sprinkled with salts and spices. Force yourself to chew and swallow. “Nothing,” he repeats back, hazel eyes resting on your jaw, flicking to meet your gaze.

Finish your mouthful, move to the next sliver. Spike it on your fork. Half raise it from the plate then stop, lowering it quietly. “What are you watching?” You ask, eyes flicking down to your plate, skipping away from his. “Many things,” he answers vaguely. Shadows flicker at his back, wreathing his wings, tucking behind them. “I’d rather not be part of those things,” you murmur, finally biting down on the tender flesh. Chew enough so it’s digestible, then swallow. Think about nice things, like the books at the house, golden eyes, and dried flowers. “You’re in public,” he replies, tone still without inflection. “That’s an impossible request.”

Three pieces left, and it’ll be done.

“You can look elsewhere instead of staring a hole in my head,” you murmur. “Maybe,” you add hastily, softening the sharp suggestion. These situations always put you a little on edge. So many people.

He’s quiet for a bit, but his attention doesn’t shift, despite his gaze moving to be further down the table. You manage another chunk of meat, teeth dully masticating as you grind the flesh down, focusing on the herbs and spices in place of the ashen, earthy flavour of the animal carcass.

Azriel’s attention weighs into you, skin prickling, hairs raising at the back of your neck as you try to ignore it. It’s probably being exacerbated by your imagination. Raise the fifth and final piece to your mouth, thinking about rotating planets and cocoa, of whiskey and caramel as your teeth bite and chew absently. He’s still observing; you shift in your chair, swallowing the mouthful. Reach for your glass, gulp down the clear liquid.

Nearly choke, the alcohol burning your throat. Nose scrunches before you can help it, covering your mouth with the napkin while you cough as quietly as possible. Elain pats you on the back making you smile as you overcome the initial shock. “Something go down the wrong way?” She asks, lips curving in a grin she’s clearly attempting to suppress in favour of a more sympathetic expression. Puts those attempts to rest when you laugh quietly, nodding to the liquid. “Too eager,” you whisper, refolding the napkin. Elain covers her own mouth, shoulders shaking with muffled mirth; you shoot her a playful glare.

Mor, sitting opposite Elain; beside Nesta, breaks from her conversation with the two, attention flitting to you, as if she had been lying in wait for her chance. “So!” She says, golden hair shining resplendent beneath the glow, like a flame encased in honey. “When shall we go shopping?” Her hands clap together, red lips parting in a friendly smile.

Oh.

You’d blessedly forgotten that promise of hers.

Swallow uneasily. “It’s fine… The polish and lip tint were lovely,” you smile, hoping she’ll leave it be. “Nonsense,” she chirps, collecting a few more roast potatoes onto her plate, Amren gingerly taking a few after her, nose almost wrinkling with suspicion. “You love books, and I apparently need a reason to spend time with you, so a shopping trip is perfect!” You offer her what you hope is a steady smile, one that disguises the strain you’re feeling, “I don’t want to be a bother—it’s fine, really. There are plenty of books in the library, anyway, and I’ve barely made it through the first two levels.”

Brows shoot up to her hairline. “Every book? You’ve been reading all of them?” You blink at her surprise, then hesitantly dip your head. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach, hands gripping one another as tension slices through your shoulders. “Are they— Am I not supposed to?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that. Read away!” She laughs, raising her hands in a calming gesture. “I hadn’t expected your interests to be so different, is all,” she smiles. “I tried to read a couple from the library when I was younger and nearly bored myself to tears.” You smile faintly, relaxing back into your chair. “I guess they’re not for everyone,” you reply, posture softening against the back of your seat.

Mor laughs, the sound like wind chimes caught on a stray breeze, golden hair glinting in the warm light. You have to look away. It feels wrong to even look at her—to try and place her individual beauties. Peer down at your empty plate, hunger gnawing at your stomach lining. You should have remembered to eat before coming along.

“So what about tomorrow?” She asks, dipping buttered bread into her bowl. Raise your head to look at her, confusion lining your brows. She smiles easily, “for a shopping trip, of course.”

“Not every creature enjoys being put through your endless chatter, Mor,” Amren snipes from her side. The blonde female pouts, throwing a glare to the petite Fae on her right.

Warm toffee eyes flick to cocoa, brightening with an idea, “Elain could come along too!” Spine goes rigid, every ounce of willpower straining to keep from glancing to your left, wondering what he’s thinking. Swallow heavily, stiffening as your older sister is brought into the discussion. Mor smiles eagerly, “what do you say, Elain? Fancy a shopping trip tomorrow?”

Nails slice into your palms, piercing small crescent shapes into your skin—you’ve been trying not to bite them. Press further back into your seat, muscles coiling with anxiety. Not both of them.

You can practically feel the moment steely silver eyes pick up on your reluctance, like she has a sixth sense for picking at scabs. But Elain sighs apologetically, “that would be lovely, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline this time.” Relief washes over your skin, bathed in a cool breeze. “I told you so,” Amren snickers to the blonde female.

Mor’s brows dip together, “oh, piss off Amren. I know you like picking out clothes to wear for Varian with me.” The cunning female raises her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies smoothly, Mor’s lips twitching at the obvious denial.

Turn to Elain, taking in the natural glow of her features. “Have plans?” You ask quietly, hand absently resting over your stomach. Involuntarily glance at the soup further up the table, tongue flicking out over your lips. She shakes her head, softly curled silky hair cascading over her slim shoulders. In your peripherals, you can make out how shadows stretch across the table, reaching. “I’ve been dreadfully tired lately,” she admits, equally hushed.

Brow furrows in concern, about to ask further, but Mor’s on you again. “Guess it’ll just be us tomorrow!” She smiles genuinely, excited for the plans. When you glance sidelong at your sister, she’s already settled back into conversation with Cassian, your youngest sister and her mate joining in. You nod in surrender, accepting it’s something that has to happen. It would be overtly rude to decline her invitation now.

“Great! We can squeeze in a lunch, too,” she grins, washing down the soup with a glassful of wine. “Maybe you can direct me to some of the more interesting library books,” she suggests, eyes sparking with excitement. You nod again, fatigue beginning to weigh on your shoulders. It’s nice watching them, but you frequently forget how draining it is to be involved.

Lean back into your chair, pulling your stomach in as you feel pressure grow—you’d die of embarrassment if it started growling. Hastily drink some more in attempts to fill it up. Hungrily eye the plates of food. Maybe the poultry wouldn’t be too bad with the sauce—chicken was hard to come by all those years ago.

A delicious scent catches your attention, shadows skittering away as he silently ladles soup into his bowl. Nobody asks about the shuffling round of plates. Stomach rumbles and you flush, hands clamping over your stomach as humiliation burns along your skin. Mouth almost watering, but you force yourself to wait; appear only mildly interested in the food. An appropriate amount of attention for a dinner.

His hand knocks into the bowl, pushing it aside to make room for another dish, so it’s to his right. Almost subtle enough to appear accidental.

Still, you finally help yourself to the soup, equal parts affection and shame weighing in your gut.

————

The night air is crisp and cool, soothing the warmth of your skin as you follow quietly a way behind the group.

Feyre and Rhys have already made their way home, not liking to spend too long away from Nyx, despite knowing he’s well cared for. There seems to be discussion ahead of taking things further for the night, perhaps more drinking.

After having left the restaurant, Nesta had sought you out. You’d been surprised to say the least—a little on edge—but it had been nothing to worry about. She’d merely extended an invitation for you to join her on their trip to the Day Court. Perhaps to seek out some books you’d been interested in, she’d suggested.

You’d politely declined.

Now you turn to Elain, the darkness bringing out the slight dip below her eyes. “You okay?” You ask, the chatter of the streets soothing background noise. Fading to a constant hum in the back of your mind, falling into the empty recesses. She nods, sighing heavily. “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping,” she replies quietly. “And, I’ve…” shakes her head. “Maybe I’m coming down with something,” she sighs again. “You always were more prone to sickness than the rest of us,” you reply, nudging her shoulder playfully.

She smiles gently, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Maybe I’ll come and cough on you so you get ill for once,” she grins.

Nose wrinkles as you smile, “gross.” She laughs at that, then the two of you fall quiet, walking together in companionable silence. Trudging your way back to the River House, keeping fairly close to the main group who are still deciding whether or not to turn in for the evening.

You know you’ll be heading back to the House of Wind for the night.

Curious to see if a response has been written.

————

The House is quiet. Halls empty and silent as you pad down the corridor to your room.

Maybe you should check with Nesta whether she wants you to move out of here—switch to the River House. Anxiety slices at your gut, fatigue weighing your eyelids at the thought. You’re sure she’ll say something if she wants you out. You aren’t keen to initiate conversation with her unless necessary.

When you enter your room, candles are already lit, courtesy of the House. A few clothes lay on the floor, but it’s mostly clear. Almost tidy.

Parchment rests across your desk, and you eagerly hurry over.

Nothing has been added.

Excitement dies away, scratching at the backs of your hands absently.

Wearily take a seat, playing with the pen between your fingers, chewing on your lower lip. Debating the merits of bothering him when he’s taken no interest in your last comment.

Toss the thoughts out your window, throwing all caution to the wind.

Long day?

Bite down on your tongue, pulling at the top most layer of skin until you bleed. Wait for the paper to disappear. Seconds tick by, counting as they drain away. Steadily turning into minutes. Lean your cheek on the table, slumping forward as boredom creeps in, the pendant clunking as it hits the wooden surface of the table.

Do you remember your twenty-first birthday?

You aren’t particularly sure where the question comes from. Maybe the still-boxed jigsaw puzzle sitting atop a dusty stack of books has something to do with it.

Paper vanishes, and you perk up, straightening in your chair, fingers flexing. Excitement stirring in your chest. Absently reach for a pot of cream, unscrewing the lid as you trace the desiccated skin of your knuckles. Slowly soothe it in, rub the dips between your fingers, pretending your hands are someone else’s.

Parchment reappears, having you eagerly lean forward.

No.

You scowl at the curt response, twiddling the pen in your hands.

Sour and miserable indeed. Were my earlier questions not interesting enough to deign a response?

Letter vanishes, your feet tapping against the floor, fidgeting with the writing instrument. Turn to the anthology as you usually end up doing while waiting for his reply. Flip to the page you’d bookmarked, removing the silver embossed fabric. Lips quirk when you spot the title: Explosions: Rapid Division.

Shift the book so it’s in the centre of your desk, reading the introductory passage, instinctively scanning the diagrams with intrigue. Paper reappears atop the pages.

You forget I am a high-ranking individual with a multitude of tasks to attend to. I don’t get to spend my days simply lying around to pester the only person who’ll give me a scrap of attention.

Cheeks heat with embarrassment, yet you find yourself smiling at the familiar sharpness of his tongue. Ease out a deep breath, relaxing into your chair, flicking the pen in your dry fingers before lowering it to the parchment.

I think if you truly felt pestered, you wouldn’t be responding at all. Feeling lonely over there, Eris?

The paper vanishes, and you treat yourself to an image of his brows narrowing, lip curling as ire blazes in caramel eyes. Mouth widens into a smile as your feet tip-tap on the floor-boards, absently dipping your finger tips into the pot of cream again, putting more over the roughness of your skin as you wait patiently.

Parchment reappears, heartbeat picking up with excitement.

And what about yourself? The hell-cat is leaving for quite a while, isn’t she?

Lips part on a sharp exhale, spine straightening as your eyes flick about the room anxiously. How does he know that? Should you tell someone? Brow narrows in concentration, mind scrambling to think up a response that won’t give anything away, without sounding so vague he knows you’re avoiding the question. Swallow heavily, rubbing in the last of the cream, reaching for your pen. Lower it to the desk, and falter. What do you say? Is feigning ignorance too obvious?

The letter vanishes before you’ve had a chance to even put a speck of ink upon it, and it dawns on you that the question was timed. Picture the way his lips part is a slow smile as he sees the blank paper.

Manipulative bastard.

I suppose she’ll be taking the brute with her, too?

Fingers tighten on the pen, teeth grinding. Is this why he warned you about Eris? Because of how quickly he can extract information through carefully assembling pieces? Jaw tenses, but more silence will be confirmation.

How do you know any of that?

Chew on your lower lip as you await his reply, heart pounding. Azriel would be furious. Swallow down the nausea, teeth sliding beneath your nails—toeing the line of biting down, but restraining yourself.

Really, how do you think Court politics works? Of course we keep tabs on one another. I’m sure your shadowsinger has plenty of spies littered throughout Prythian. Possibly further, too.

Blood ices, peering down at your necklace and the map contained within. Imagining how wide his net must be to thread throughout it all. How much work it must take to keep everything running. Ruthless discipline. How tiring it must be. The weight, the pressure to keep it all maintained.

Head beginnings swimming at the thought of it. Would you even be able to keep up with him?

Why are you telling me this?

The pen scratches over the parchment, struggling to keep lines clean through the slight tremor in your hands. You can’t even begin to comprehend how much work must regularly go into sustaining such a network.

It’s a little embarrassing that you don’t already know. What are they teaching you over there? How to be an emotional burden?

The words hit sharp in your chest, hooks latching into the soft, vascular muscle of your heart. Poised to shred in an instant. Awaiting for the split second of weakness to rip. Rupture the organ in a clean tear.

Fear spikes.

I understand why your brother wants nothing to do with you if that’s how you speak with people.

The words are stamped into the page before you have time to reason it out. Blood rushes round your ears, wincing as your fingertips burn with the faint embers of power that have begun sparking up every now and again. Preemptively reach for the hand cream, preparing to soothe the itch once it fully manifests.

He’ll read into that comment. You know he will. Read between the lines to figure out just how much that one stung.

Parchment reappears and you warily lean forward, eyes skimming the clean script.

I’d been wondering where you kept your lovely claws, cygnet.

I didn’t mean to write that.

Wipe hands on your skirts, anxiety kicking up in the pit of your stomach. Roiling with worry.

You knew perfectly well what you were doing. You simply despise the way you are.

Has anyone else commented on how similar you are to Nesta Archeron?

Heart sinks to your stomach, biting on your tongue until you taste copper. Dislike how deep he’s wormed his way already. How did things go from light-hearted sparring matches to full scale battle in so few conversations?

And what about you? You write, mimicking his earlier diversion. Do your brothers share your affinity for poisoned words?

The parchment vanishes for a while this time, though you don’t even try to distract yourself with the anthology. Leg taps anxiously, trying to rub cream into your hands, hoping if it’s done tonight, they won’t ache tomorrow. The last thing you need right now is another flare up. Try to focus on the scent—light and sweet. Like gardenias and sugar.

Your attempts to redirect are as graceful as the first steps of a freshly birthed hound. Perhaps once you settle into your skin you’ll become more skilled at deflecting uncomfortable topics.

Skin prickles, hairs standing on end as you again raise the pen in hand. Considering routes to return to earlier discussions that weren’t so intrusive.

Alternatively, you could choose lighter conversation starters. For example, why did you send the anthology?

Certainly not the most succinct switch in direction, but better than continuing down that path. Ease a breath into your lungs once the paper vanishes, reminding yourself you don’t have to reply to him. At any point, you’re free to leave. Lean back in your chair, stretching out your limbs, muscles spasming and aching in your shoulders, fingers trembling as bones click in your spine. Deflate into the seat, muscles relaxing all at once.

You haven’t noticed anything yet?

Brows furrow, peering at the volume. Close it and flip it over—nothing on the back. Reopen it to the contents page, peering at the compilation of titles, authors, and page numbers. Scan the introductory section again, searching for anything to give you a hint at what he’s talking about.

(Writing about.)

I’m mildly concerned to ask? You write, keeping the conversation light, steering away from the earlier topics. Hoping he’ll keep away from family-related chatter.

Then read away.

Heart spikes at the ominous reply. What the hell is he talking about?

Eris, are you serious?

Paper vanishes, reappearing moments later.

Nothing but.

Roll your eyes at the response, but again set pen to paper.

If you were a human, you’d be riddled in various worry-marks by now. Does that thought upset you?

Lips quirk faintly, hoping it irritates him sufficiently.

Is this how you cope with discomfort? Pretending it away? Making light of it?

Damn him.

Instead of…?

Instead of hiding like a coward. Your blithe little act is growing dreadfully monotonous.

Straighten in your chair, shifting uncomfortably. Are you boring? Is that it? Is that the whole reason he…

Do fae have milestone dates like humans do? You said you don’t remember your twenty-first.

Paper disappears, and you become aware of the tension coiling in your shoulders. Maybe you should turn in for the night. Writing to him is supposed to be fun, not make you feel so…

Squirm uncomfortably, slouching in the seat. Crick your neck, releasing built up pressure, stretching your toes. Move to blow out the candles, but the letter reappears.

You really are turning out to be quite dull.

Brows scrunch with hurt, then even out. It’s ridiculous to be upset over behaviour he’s made no effort to hide. You shouldn’t be surprised he’s not changing, yet you had hoped…

Swallow, then sigh, the pen feeling heavy in your hand.

And you’re unnecessarily barbed.

(Who taught you to be that way, Eris?)

(Am I going to grow up to be like you?)

Paper vanishes, but you find yourself awaiting a reply. Marinating in your room while your lids grow heavier, shoulders slumping with fatigue, the base of your spine beginning to ache.

Stand from your desk, eyes flicking unwillingly to your nightstand, a small, royal blue gift box sat neatly atop it. The tule bow as resplendent as ever—shifting between vivid purples, reds, and pinks. Azriel’s gift.

(Sometimes, when it gets particularly bad, I like to look at it before I go to sleep. Fantasise about being the female he likes, instead of the one I am.)

(Sometimes, when I want to indulge in misery, I like to imagine dressing up for him. Imagine him telling me how pretty I am, imagine him sliding the golden hooks into pointed ears.)

(Sometimes I imagine.)

(Sometimes I imagine, because it’s the closest to reality I’ll ever get.)

Hear the distinct sound of paper on the table, and you still. End up turning anyway. Move over to your desk, reading the message.

You can do better.

Write again when you’re ready to show your claws.

Slump into the seat, head tipping back, staring up at the ceiling. Arms fall dully to your sides, too tired to feel anything.

Sigh heavily, forcing yourself to stand in favour of pulling away your clothes. Rid yourself of every constraint, pendant clunking on the bedside table.

The same-old, off-white cotton night gown swallows you, falling to your ankles as you settle into the mattress.

And to think, you’d been considering asking what things were like in his court.

How nice it might have been to make a trip of your own.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei @kemillyfreitas @chasing-autumns-chill @marvelpotter @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde @fall-myriad

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x yn #azriel angst #azriel acotar #CBMTHY #azriel x reader angst #CBMTHY Chapter 8

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missabigailtaylor · 12 days

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I just…I just don’t understand people when they say Elain and Azriel don’t make sense. I picked up on their chemistry during the first meeting and Azriel went all poetic about how it feels to fly. They had the subtle chemistry while Nesta and Cassian were enemies to lovers right off the bat.

Now with five books worth of buildup and subtle moments here and there then a full blown bonus chapter where Azriel admits he can’t sleep because he’s tormented over the mating bond between Elain and ginger, he stares at the headache powder she gave him on his nightstand, and then him just fully admitting he’s down so bad for her he wanted to get on his knees and eat her out without care of her mate, their family, and anyone seeing them? They don’t make sense?!?

What are yall reading?!

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elriel #pro elain #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel

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littlemisssatanist · 2 months

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my acotar unpopular opinions

taking this time to come out as an acotar reader. yes i've read all the books and i've spent way too much time thinking about it. i enjoy the books in the sense that i enjoy hating on many of the characters and loving a few of the others.

be forewarned inner circle fans. you will not like this.

rhysand is not a 'morally grey' character. he's a rapist and a groomer. he sexually assaulted feyre utm, he groomed her (reminder that she was 19 in acotar), and he withheld important medical information from her. 'you'll always have a choice' my ass.

nesta telling feyre about her pregnancy was not a bad thing. why do people act like it is? 'oh she did it to hurt feyre' hurt her by doing what? revealing the lies that her beloved husband had woven? revealing the fact that she'd die giving birth? the fact that rhysand told literally everybody but feyre?

mor is not the champion for women everyone thinks she is. this i will give to sjm it is truly impressive to make a character like women and still be a pick me. i'm not even going to go into her whole weird ass relationship with her dad (i still don't understand why she wouldn't just kill him. 'oh rhys needed the army' rhys is supposed to be the most powerful high lord ever. either admit he's a fucking loser or give me an actual good reason for this) or the fact she's seemingly incapable of doing anything to help the women in the court of nightmares, but everytime she was mentioned, i had to let out a heavy sigh and rub my temples.

on a similar topic. i liked eris. like a lot. out of all the acotar characters sjm has written, eris is by far my favorite.

the inner circle needs to sit the fuck down. they are the most hypocritical bitches i've ever met. they like to think themselves high and mighty. reading them make fun of lucien's band of exiles while their name is literally 'court of dreamers' was the most infuriating thing ever. and then they have the gall to be insulted when called out. don't dish what you can't take.

out of all the inner circle, the only one i don't hate is azriel. this is simply because he is the only one who hasn't opened his big fat mouth and done something bad (except if you maybe count his whole thing with elain). cassian is on my hit list. it's on sight with cassian.

nessian is sjm's worst ship and i will stand by that. lucien/nesta could have been so much. 'nesta would have ripped lucien apart' and cassian was your first choice? not even azriel was considered? like be so for real right now. sjm didn't see the potential of lucien/nesta and i will forever mourn that.

sjm is a terrible writer. i'm not saying this to be mean but she seriously just sucks at it. that being said i admire her ability to still make millions of dollars off her shitty writing. as a woman, i am rooting for her. as a reader, every day i wake up a shoot a prayer to the heavens begging the gods to not let sjm write any more books from the inner circle's pov.

lucien/elain is better than azriel/elain. argue with the wall.

eris/azriel is better than azriel/elain. you can kiss my ass.

NESTA/ERIS IS BETTER THAN RHYSAND/FEYRE. i know this because i have been enlightened.

feyre is a victim to rhysand. that being said, she is also a major bitch. both can be true because these things are not mutually exclusive. i wish she could make friends outside of the ic like nesta did, but i know that's unlikely.

feyre's pregnancy storyline was completely useless and went against her whole character.

acomaf retconned everything about tamlin and feyre's relationship in order to make more money. idc.

tamlin gets a ridiculous amount of hate. rhysand is hypocritical. so tamlin locking feyre in a house because she wants to ride out with him into potential danger is terrible and abusive, but rhysand locking nesta in the house of wind for... *checks notes*... having sex and spending money on alcohol is helping her? what?

#anti rhysand #anti sjm #anti inner circle #anti acotar #rhysand critical #inner circle critical #acotar #acotar critical #pro nesta #anti nessian #pro eris vanserra #anti mor #this might be a controversial one

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readychilledwine · 2 months

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Cuckold

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Quick authors note- It feels a little ironic to be using Rhys and Feyre for this kink since one of my favorite Eris lines comes from when he's chasing Feyre and Lucien.

“Right. Rumor has it you two have run off together, cuckolding Tamlin.” His grin widened. “I didn’t think you had it in you, little brother.”

Anyways! Traditionally, a cuckold is a husband or boyfriend of a person who has sex with other people (be it cheating, sex work, separated). In modern kink terms, cuckold, or a cuck for short, is when a man gets sexual arousal through watching his partner have sex with someone else. There is a female equivalent, cuckquean, but I made the choice to focus on poor Rhysie being left out.

This type of play falls into the voyeurism and exhibitionist category but has become a type of play that is having an increase in popularity (and hurt feelings from insecure partners). Part of the appeal of cucking is mental degradation and humiliation, another is competitive drive.

This type of play requires security on both ends and understanding from the third party involved. This typically isn't a type of play you'd want to engage in with a stranger you do not trust, nor someone who is too close to the couple. While all parties are consenting, the first time around this kink can be interesting and cause some potentially bad results if not handled with tack. Open communication and safe words are a must in this type of play regardless of if restraints or anything else gets brought in. The last thing anyone would ever want is a relationship ending over something that was supposed to be fun 💜

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

💙 Peep Bound by Fate if you haven't since Kaylee makes a brief appearance 💙

As always, NSFW below the cut

Feysand x Helion

Warnings - voyeurism, dirty talk, unprotected sex, surprise third party, Helion's thighs mentioned, post pregnancy body insecurities, restraints

A/N - There's a brief Kaylee appearance. Nesta would have been too jealous, Elain would have gotten shy, Kaylee is just confused on why she's getting to see Helion's thighs on a random Tuesday.

“I would have never taken you for this kind of male, Rhysand.” Helion glanced out the window, overlooking the beautiful snow capped valley Rhysand had hidden for years.

Rhys sighed. “She needs it and I am not against it. She has not felt as confident as she once was in her body, and having not one but two high lords worshiping her may be the answer.”

A single perfect brow went up as Helion shot Rhysand a questioning look. “Did the little heir?”

“Stretch mark scarring, she's a little less toned. I think she looks twice as delicious as before, but she does not believe me.”

Helion nodded, eyes sympathetic and soft. “Motherhood is hard. She's exhausted, she's losing her sense of self, her hands probably do not even feel like her own anymore. It is understandable she feels less appealing to you lately.”

A soft knock on the door had Rhys standing, moving to it with a smile. “Hi, honeybee.”

“Rhysie!” Kaylee paused, eyes locked on Helion. “What are Helion and his thighs doing here?” Helion snorted, looking to the youngest sister with a smirk as she crossed the room.

“Mother above, Kaylee.” Azriel entered behind her. Kaylee had already gone to the bassinet, picking up her cooing nephew. “How long are we taking him for?”

Rhys and Helion shrugged, causing Azriel to pause before grabbing Kaylee. “What's wrong, shadowsinger? Don't want her to get ideas?”

“From you? Absolutely not. Let's go, baby.” Azriel took her and Nyx away before Kaylee could question the impromptu date night and the appearance of the Day Lord. “She's still adorably innocent,” Helion looked to Rhys. “You must convince her to play next.”

Rhys shook his head, eyes wide in fear. “Not Kaylee you'd have to convince.”

Surprising Feyre had been easy. She arrived home to Helion sitting in Rhysand's spot at the table. “Hello beautiful.”

The smile that graced her face was capable of moving mountains. “Helion! What are you doing here?”

He motioned towards the table. “Your mate got a little tied up, asked me to come have dinner with you.”

“Let me go grab Nyx-”

“No need to do that, Feyre. He's with that sweet little sister and her brooding mate.”

Feyre paused, “What is Rhys tied up with then?”

“Currently?” Helion set down his glass of wine, shifting in his seat and uncrossing his legs. “Spidersilk based ropes. We can change that if you would like, though.” It was then that soft tug came, calming her and letting her know that everything was okay. “He's quite pretty when he's bound up. Would you like to see?”

The answer she gave was breathless, eyes fluttered shut. “Yes.”

He stood, taking her hand in his and leading her to her own bedroom. Rhysand glared at Helion from the chair he was tied down to before smirking at his wife. “Hello, Feyre Darling.” He tried to pull at the ropes again before rolling his eyes. “When you told me to ask Azriel to tie me down, I had imagined other places, Helion.”

The lord of day shrugged, hands lingering on Feyre's upper arms as he stood behind her. “You said you watched to watch me fuck your wife,” those hands slid down bringing one of her own to his lips. “You also said you did not know if you could handle it. Restraints seemed to be the perfect solution.”

Rhys leaned his head back, smiling towards the ceiling. “Go ahead then,” he motioned between them the best he could. “Fuck her if she'll have you.”

Soft lips came to Feyre's ear as she stared at Rhys with a questioning look. “You have control, beautiful. If you want me to leave, I will leave. If you want me in your bed, I will be in your bed.”

Feyre released a breath, all thoughts leaving her mind. “My body-”

“Is wonderful, magic, and stunning,” Helion kissed the tip of her pointed ear, relishing in the way she shivered. “You created life, selflessly for the male sitting in that chair.”

Rhysand's eyes had darkened, the scent of his arousal already filling the air as he watched Helion's hands move to the bed of Feyre's dress and soft kisses continued on her ear. “I know you want to, darling.”

“My body-” Helion looked to Rhys and put a hand to Feyre's mouth silencing her before forcing her to walk to the mirror in their room.

“Look at you. Look at every beautiful blessed inch of you.” The command went straight through her, settling in her core as it did. His hands found the ties of her dress. He searched her face for any sign of true resistance and hesitation before pulling and watching the fabric fall. “You are sensational, Feyre. Your new curves fit so beautifully.” Her eyes fluttered shut, body leaning against his for the heat. “Let me show you, exactly how beautiful I find you?”

She nodded, turning in his arms. The first kiss was testing, slow and gentle to see if there'd be more than a soft groan coming from her mate. She pulled apart in time for Helion to lift her, carrying her to the bed and laying her down so her head would hang over the edge, staring directly at Rhysand as he squirmed against the restraints.

He wasted no time, kissing down her neck, smirking at the soft noises he so easily was pulling from her. “So sensitive,” he nipped gently at her pulse point, eyes looking to where Rhys was already struggling. “I'd love to worship you, Feyre, but your mate is already struggling from how badly he'd like to join.”

“Fuck him,” she whispered softly.

Helion couldn't help the feline like smirk gracing his face as Rhys glared. “We will. Later.” He flipped her below him, fingers going to the waist of her panties before bringing them down her muscled legs.

His skilled fingers found her core, running up and down before pushing in. Feyre whined loudly, eyes rolling before snuggling into the bed and pushing her hips back. Helion set a rhythm, pumping those digits into her to open her up , curling them as he needed to and saw fit to turn her into a mess.

He heard Rhys whimper, eyes rolling as his head went back and he knew. He knew Feyre was sending every drop of pleasure she felt down the bond, ensuring Rhysand felt it to. Her own moans began to increase as her hips met every movement of his fingers. “Look at your mate,” Helion commanded. “Look at your mate as you cum on my fingers.”

She fell apart easily, body and mind so ready and wanting for attention. She screamed his name, whimpering softly as she rode a wave of bliss. He worked her through the high through every second of her walls clenching around those fingers. When he finally pulled them out, he brought them to her lips, cock twitching as he got the smallest preview of what the High Lady could do.

Rhysand hadn't taken his eyes off of them. His cock was aching and leaking as he watched Helion remove his pleaded clothing before forcing Feyre onto her hands and knees. She sent him every single second of pleasure as Helion's cock pushed into her, stretching her wider than his did. “Fuck,” Rhys muttered under his breath, pulling and moving to try to free himself and at least work his cock.

She looked so pretty, mouth hung open as she moaned loudly, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. Helion's eyes met his and Rhys nodded, hoping the desperation of needing to watch Feyre be fucked and cum for another male wasn't etched into his beautiful features.

Helion gave her a teasing thrust, cock twitching at the whine that came back from it. “How do you want it?”

“Hard.” The need in her tone made his hands grip the plush skin of her hips tighter.

“As the High lady commands.”

Lightning shot through Feyre and Rhys as soon as Helion began that punishing pace. He was hitting every single one of her nerves, heavy cock stretching her wider than she'd ever been. She looked down, lost in enjoying her pleasure only to have him tangle a large hand into her hair, pulling her head back up. “Look at him. Look at how much power you have over him, at how damn desperate he is.”

Rhys was moving constantly in the chair now, growling occasionally with Feyre's moans of Helion's name. He longed to be under her, licking and sucking her clit as Helion rode her, fucking her into a mindless state of bliss.

As if sensing what Rhysand wanted, Heliha's free hand moved to her core, circling her bundle of nerves with gentle fingers. “Oh gods, yes!” Feyre was so close already all three of them could taste it. Her orgasm was humming in the air, crackling like electricity and fire. “Fuck! Keep going, please!”

Helion looked to Rhys again, seeing the male squirm, back arching off the chair as his jaw arched. A damp spot stained his dark slacks, growing by the second as he watched, as he felt. He began pounding into Feyre harder, feeling her walls begin twitching more and more.

It was as if time slowed when they both came. Mountains shaking, the sky switching from a sunset to full blown night. She was screaming his name while Rhys roared hers.

Helion fell over the ledge seconds later, pulling Feyre close to him as he did so Rhys had to watch as he made a mess of her. He allowed Feyre to lower down to the bed as his high closed.

He allowed her a few moments to breathe before pulling both arms behind her back and forcing her up. He walked her to Rhys before putting her on her knees. “Take his pants off and clean your mate. It's time we cash in on that threesome he said we could have.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads

Feysand:

@avajustreads

#acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #feysand #feyre acotar #high lord helion #helion spell cleaver #feysand x helion #poly!acotar

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foxylady13 · 4 months

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I think a lot of people continuously overlook the GOOD Nesta did during the series and only focus on her "hateful attitude". Sometimes actions show more than words and Nesta is an action girly.

ACOTAR- She tried to protect Feyre in the market. She went after Feyre when Tamlin took her. She essentially told Feyre to go and save Tamlin and not to worry about them. She was ready to marry someone to help have one less mouth to feed for Feyre. She chopped wood for two days in a row.

Also, I think this quote is important from book 1 from Feyre about Nesta:

"I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn't stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory.... Who had shrouded the loss of our mother, then our downfall, in icy rage and bitterness, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she HAD cared - beneath it, she had cared, and perhaps, loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally."

ACOMAF - She wasn't in here much but both her and Elain opened their home to Feyre and the IC for the war purposes when they were taught their whole life to be scared/fear the fae and ended up turned against their will for their efforts which is incredibly traumatic.

ACOWAR - Nesta helped with the Queens and the High Lords. She helped Feyre and the whole Raven attack thingy. She participated in the war and almost died trying to save Cassian and then beheaded Hybern. She then helped tend to the wounded and dieing. She really had no time to sort through her own trauma during this time either since she was looking after comatose Elain and in a place where she didn't want to be.

ACOFAS - We see her drowning in her trauma. She can't even take baths (which Feyre had said in ACOWAR she'd help with as she never thought about how the Cauldron affected them). She is invited to party with rent money held over her head (despite the fact she had a job as human emissary during the war so where is the money promised to her from accepting that job from Rhysand?) While there, Feyre remarks how uncomfortable Nesta is but doesn't both to wonder why, and come to find out fire bothers her because it reminds her of her father's neck snapping RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER. Cassian runs after her and even though she wants to be alone she's hounded and is seen as the bad guy for not taking his gift. A gift he proceeds to throw away, like a child, into the water because she didn't take it...At this point she just wanted to be left alone and they kept hounding her and not respecting boundaries she was putting up.

ACOSF - She is still drowning..she is forced into the HOW (feyre said she'd be tied and thrown there essentially so it wasn't really a choice) where she has to walk down 10,000 steps (which she physically/mentally/emotionally could not do so she was essentially a prisoner since no help was offered by feyre and Amren own words and let's not forget those same steps were used as punishment for Rhysand and the bat boys)..she starts training though and finds her own found family in Gwyn and Emerie. She helps the IC multiple times with things in ACOSF to and even saves Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx very lives. She even says sorry to Feyre and Feyre doesn't hold anything against Nesta, not even telling her about the babies wings because at least she told her. We also find out she tried to write letters to others to help during their poverty times and her boots weren't as new as Feyre made then out to be showing Feyre as an unreliable/biased narrator.

All in all, I wouldn't say Nesta is an absolutely terrible horrible nasty person that is beyond redemption or forgiveness.

She is a woman who has been traumatized from a very young age starting with her mother/grandmother to being turned fae to PTSD from war/her father and doesn't know how to cope so she lashes out (which is a VALID TRAUMATIC RESPONSE) to push others away because she HATES herself more than anyone else does. She knew lashing out was wrong but didn't have the tools/upbringing to know healthy responses. It's really not until Gwyn and Emerie came along and showed her UNCONDITIONAL LOVE that she began to change and learn better and new healthy coping mechanism to let go of the bad ones.

Now, I'm not saying her trauma response was good or acceptable or excusable, but I do think she deserves some grace and compassion given all she's been through herself. Trauma is not a comparison game after all and we all experience and cope differently. Just like these characters.

Artist is Crisol Crowling or crisolcrowling on IG!

#nesta stan #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta art #pro nesta #acotar series #Nesta isn’t as bad as people make her out to be #acosf #acowar #acomaf #acofas

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kristisbookland · 3 months

Text

ACOSF

Ch 19

"Because of the shit with Elain?"

Azriel stilled. "What happened to Elain?"

Cassian waved a hand. "A fight with Nesta. Don't bring it up," he warned when Azriel's eyes darkened.

...

Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. "You all right?" His brother nodded. "Fine." But shadows still swarmed him.

Ch21

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain's face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preapering to strike.

Ch22

"She's volatile right now. The last time she did a scrying, it ended badly. The Cauldron looked at her. And then took Elain."

...

Azriel stiffened. "I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all."

...

Cassian looked over at Az. "You think you'll ever be ready for one?" Ever be ready to confess to Mor what's in you heart?"

"I don't know," Azriel said.

"Do you want a child?"

"It doesn't matter what I want." Distant words-ones that prevented Cassian from prying further. He was still happy to be Mor's buffer with Azriel, but there'd been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel...those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he'd given up.

Ch29

Amren said, " We do not have the time to wait for Nesta to decide. I say we approach Elain tomorrow. Better to have both of them working on it."

Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, "There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to."

....

Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, "Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes." She threw a nod toward Azriel. "Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don't underestimate her."

Ch 31

Nesta said, "The Trove. And what happened the last time I scried."

Feyre said, "We won't allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times."

"Eyes can be blinded," Nesta said.

"Not the ones under my command," Azriel said with soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing, he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation. He'd gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern's camp to save Elain - he know the risk. "We won't make the same mistake twice."

Ch 44

"She made ballroms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two," she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel.

Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from.

Ch 58

Nesta shook her head slowly, not understanding. Elain just linked her arm throught Nesta's and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he'd heard Elain's sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

"I was just checking on dessert," Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met shadowsinger's stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and thought it was utterly neutral, something charged went throught it. Between them. Elain's breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into room.

...

Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him.

"Why don't you sit?" She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger.

"My shadows don't like the flames so much." A pretty lie. She'd seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and know the answer.

"Why did you come if it torments you so much?"

"Because Rhys wants me here. It'd hurt him if I didn't come."

"Well I think holidays are stupid."

"I don't."

She arched a brow. He explained, "They pull people together. And bring them joy. They are a time to pause and reflect and gather, and those are never bad things." Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn't stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn't go near the fire.

His secret to tell, never hers.

Ch 59

(After Soltice/Bonus Ch.)

Three days passed with no word from Cassian. He'd been replaced on training by a stone-faced Azriel, who was more aloof than usual and wouldn't even give her a smile.

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #pro elain #elriel supremacy #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #sjmaas #elain archeron #it's all there

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bettdraws · 3 months

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This is a wild Elucien headcanon…

but please imagine Lucien being in a really dangerous situation with the Autumn court, like something happened and they have him as a prisoner, or unable to leave.

And Elain is there listening to how Lucien could potentially be held captive in a cold cell or even tortured.

And shes there when Eris says the only way to save him is if he has real ties to the Night Court or if he officially becomes a member, and the only way to do that is if he gets mated/married to someone from there, not anyone, but the High Lady’s sister.

And everyone is outraged with what he is suggesting but Elain is suddenly quiet.

And she suddenly says “I will do it” and everyone gapes at her, some try to talk her out of it (possibly Feyre or Nesta) but Rhys just nods.

And they send notice to the Autumn court that they cannot harm Lucien because he is a Night Court citizen, but Beron doesn’t believe it, he demands that Elain goes there so he can determine it.

Chaos, outrage, but she agrees, and she obviously doesn’t go alone. She convinces herself that while she doesn’t owe Lucien anything, she is tired of the bloodshed, the loss, and if she has the power in her hands, she will act. That is all, she couldn’t care less about him. She convinces herself she would be this worried for anyone that is close to her sister, it’s not because shes worried and scared and petrified of something bad happening to him.

They’re in the Forest House, they bring out Lucien who is luckily generally unharmed but Elain looks at the binds in his wrists and her whole body reacts to the sudden urge to protect. Beron takes one sniff at them and knows it is true. They’re mates. But Beron says an unfulfilled mating bond is not valid (listen idk about these fae laws bear with me) they need to marry. Elain declares that was the plan all along. Lucien is shocked. (I just imagine what must be going through his head seeing his mate stand before Beron in the same room where Jesminda was killed)

They let Lucien go with his mate but they have to stay in the Forest House until everything gets resolved. Elain and Lucien are shoved into a room, no more chains on him, but he doesn’t understand any of it.

Both of them are standing awkwardly in the room. Lucien is staring at her as if she has grown ears, still shocked, still reliving moments, furious at them for being so dumb as to risk themselves for him. He supposed he really was a big asset for Rhys to have done this. But her… why was she here? Why did she put herself in this position?

“Did they make you do this?” He says through his teeth.

She muses on what to say. “No” she gets offended with the assumption that she can’t make decisions for herself. “I agreed to this and came on my own free will”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because I’m tired of people dying, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I could have done something” A silence and for some forsaken reason Elain has the need to add. “This doesn’t mean what you think it means”

Something irks at Lucien then, and the awoken nerves on his body make him respond to that. “And please tell, Lady, what do I think it means?”

Elain clenches her fists. “That I’ve changed my mind about you… about this” She signals between them. “This is just temporary, out of necessity”

Lucien just stares at her.

“I never entertained that you did, I can assure you.” It is easier to turn on her, on this beautiful female that is putting herself at risk for him, than to be hurt at the continuing rejection from her. “You’ve always just assumed that I’m some brute fae that wants to steal you away, let me tell you now that we’re speaking frankly, that its not the case. I can’t control the pull from the bond, but I have no interest in pursuing a female who doesn’t want me”

That sends Elain to retaliate. “What about the gifts then, was that not pursuing?” She cocks her head arrogantly.

“I was bringing them to Feyre as well. That was me being polite, but guess you don’t know the first thing about that”

“You are one to talk about politeness when I’m here risking my life for your neck and this is how you treat me” She takes one step closer.

“I never asked you to do it” He mirrors her and steps closer with his broad hands clenched in fists.

“I will just let you die next time then”

“Fine by me, as long as I don’t have to endure you shoving it on my face”

“Asshole”

“I’ve been called worse” A sly, angry smile creeps at one corner of his mouth. She suddenly realizes they’re breathing on each other’s face.

“And all this time I thought you were a gentleman” She summons her anger to keep focused.

“You will learn I can be a gentleman, Elain” Her name on his lips, for the first time. “But I can be so much worse too”

His breath is hot on her face, their hearts already beating fast.

“You admit you were pretending then, to win me over”

A sharp breathy laugh from him. “If I wanted to win you over, I would not have tried to be gentle”

Her lips form a thin line as she holds herself, the pull, his words, the sudden effect of his mismatched gaze intense on her face.

“You shouldn’t have done this” He says quietly, roughly, his eyes showing something beyond just annoyance, she sees the fear in them. She pushes it back.

“What’s done is done” She says. “We will pretend, see this through, and then we’re done”

“Alright, dove”

She’s startled. Her nostrils flare. She ignores the outrageous pet name he just used on her. “I’m going to take a bath, I suggest you do the same, you stink” She begins to walk away and stops herself “I mean after I’m done” She frowns as she strolls away.

He watches her with sudden amusement.

He’s scared, hes pissed and hurt. He’s tired. But something inside him sparks, and he can’t really put a name to it.

Oh he’s not alright.

#guys im not a writer but I had to put this out there #if youre a writer PLEASE TAKE THIS I NEED IT #elucien #pro elucien #marriage of convenience #the best trope im sorry #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elain x lucien #autumn court drama #elucien headcanon #elucien one shot #elain and lucien banter will EAT

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thisblogisaboutabook · 4 months

Note

Hello lovely!! Would you ever do a part 2 to Bad Idea right? Maybe the IC finds out about reader and Eris? 👀👀

I had planned for Part 1 to be a drabble only but I loved your ask so much that it’s going to be a short series now! I present to you, part 2. Thank you for this fun request!

Bad Idea, Right? - Part 2

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

Sleeping with a male your dad hates is fun… until you get caught.

A follow up to the drabble “Bad Idea, Right?”

Part 3

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content, language

Holy mother and all the bullshit gods my ancestors prayed to, I’m so royally fucked.

A necklace. A damned necklace, and my family’s overall inability to mind their own business, sent everything spiraling.

Nobody paid any mind to the jewelry I chose for Starfall until Amren set her eyes on the unique amber and gold hued necklace dangling from my neck - coveting the thing. Its unique jewels apparently something she’d never seen in her over 15,000 years of living.

Lucien, who had come with Vassa, Jurian, and Helion in tow, of course, overheard the conversation. With his wealth of knowledge and abundant need to be the biggest know-it-all in the room, Lucien chimed in that the gems came from the Autumn Court, typically only worn by the leading family and their closest affiliates. His brows furrowed with contemplation as he waived a hand toward my décolletage asking, “Which makes me wonder, where did you come across this piece?”

Damn it, Lucien.

And damn it, Eris. Leave it the prick to give me a gift that’s as much of a pain in my ass as he is.

Reading the look on my face, Lucien and Vassa’s son, my childhood best friend, Adish cut in- “Oh, I uh, I gave it to her for her birthday a couple of years ago. I’m surprised you two forgot.”

Lucien and Vassa looked to eachother in contemplation, not totally buying it, but not pressing further.

I mouthed a “thank you” to Adish before Amren pulled me back in to inspect the piece further.

Naturally, Uncle Rhys had step in at that moment - reusing the same joke that I have heard a hundred times since I was a child - Amren is a firedrake who will snatch the necklace right off me blah, blah, blah.

“It really is a lovely piece.” Aunt Feyre joined in, my mother, Aunt Nesta, and father with her. The three sisters inspecting it closely.

Holy shit, have these people never seen a necklace before?

I could have sworn that one of my shadows rolled it’s not existent eyes in agreement.

“Where did you get that?” Dad asked. “Apparently I need to keep it in mind for your mother and aunts for Solstice.”

“Oh, um, it’s from the Autumn Court, Adish gave it to me two years ago for my birthday.” I replied, innocently tracing a finger along the gems as I gave a forced smile.

It was then that my all-to-observant, spymaster jr., little sneak of a sister made her presence known. “No he didn’t! Adish got you a scarf from the continent that year.”

How the hell did this little shit remember these things!?

“Whatever, Azalea, it must have been a different year then.”

“No sissy! He never bought you a necklace - he bought you a bracelet, and two pairs of earrings, but never a necklace.”

Good gods. This child.

Rolling my eyes at my snoop of a sister, I coolly replied “Whatever, Azzy, I suppose my memory isn’t quite as good as yours.” Silently praying to whoever would listen that nobody pressed further. Dad’s shadows agitated but settled when my own shadows wound over to mingle with them.

Amren gave me a suspicious look that could only mean trouble - but fortunately kept her mouth shut. As the remainder of the group dispersed to interact with the crowd, Amren grabbed my arm.

“Be careful, girl. I know better than to tell you what to do, just… keep your wits about you.”

Her intense eyes locked with mine to which I shrugged the comment off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I am not a fool, girl. I do not know you to be one either. Be careful.” the tiny fae chided as she sauntered off to find Varian.

Keeping a collected facade but needing some fresh air, I casually made my way toward a secluded balcony on the backside of the House of Wind.

Finally free of the crowd, I released all of the tension I’d been holding in, taking deep breaths in an effort of calming my nerves. I am an adult capable of making my own choices but… given the inner circles complicated history with Eris, and my fathers overall hatred of the male, I’d rather nobody know that we fuck each others brains out on occasion.

Frowning down at the necklace, I muttered curses to it that would make my mother, dear sweet Elain, keel over.

Too wrapped up in berating the jewelry, I didn’t notice the male behind me. I startled at the smooth voice cutting through the silence, his low tone dripping in lust. “Ah, little Shadowsinger, If you’d prefer a ring instead, I’m sure we could arrange that. Though I do say the necklace compliments your lovely assets quite well.” His eyes roved hungrily up and down my body, a primal gaze darkening those amber eyes and filled my core with heat. I nearly rolled my eyes back into my head as the intoxicating scent of mahogany and crackling fire filled my nostrils.

Regaining my wits and refusing to let him see how he effected me, I met those bedroom eyes with nothing but contempt. “Fuck off, Eris. Why are you here?”

He stepped closer. I stood my ground, no way was I going balk away from the challenge.

“Come now, little one, is that any way to speak to a High Lord? I was invited to the celebration tonight, as all of Prythian’s leaders were.”

Fair enough, but I wouldn’t let him win that easily. Waving him off, I commanded “Go find somewhere else to be a pain in the ass.”

Eris closed the distance, grabbing the wrist I had waived him away with. His head dipped down as his plush lips grazed the shell of my ear. His deep, sensual voice sent chills through me as he replied, “I can only promise pleasure when it comes to that beautiful ass, Y/N.”

Releasing my hand, Eris reached both hands around me, palms pressing into my ass as his fingers hitched my dress up to expose my thighs and barely clothed sex to the brisk evening air. In one swift motion he scooped me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around him. As his lips crashed into mine I bit the lower one just hard enough to draw blood before licking it away and kissing the hurt. His tongue then swooped into my mouth, battling for dominance against my own, a low growl escape his throat, reverberating through me.

Placing me on the balcony ledge, Eris situated himself between my spread legs, desperately palming at my breasts as I threw my head back, exposing the column of my throat to him. He lightly nipped down the length of my neck and my protruding collar bones before falling to his knees before me. His lust-filled eyes met mine as he cooed, “You could bring any male to their knees before your beauty, but this…” he pushed aside the lace thong, exposing me to him, “this gorgeous, dripping cunt belongs to your High Lord, and your High Lord only.”

His skilled tongue deftly swiped up my center, eliciting a moan from me. I looked down into his eyes - mesmerized by the amber hues peering at me from under his lashes. My fingers found purchase in his fiery red locks as I firmly stated, “I belong to no one and you are not my High Lord, Eris.”

His responding nip to my swollen clit drew a sharp gasp from me. Eris let out a satisfied hum in return as he resumed feasting like a starved male. Perhaps that’s what kept drawing me back into the bastards bed - his insatiable hunger fueled by that eagerness to please that only amplified with the calloused remarks I threw at him. Most females fell at his feet - throwing themselves at the chance to serve a High Lord. Whereas most males ran as far away as they could upon realizing that my father was the infamous Shadowsinger.

One of my shadows caressed the base of his neck, circling back around as to tilt his chin up. His needy eyes met mine again. “Fuck me, Eris.”

In an instant he was up, standing before me. Biting my lip, I clenched my thighs together at the sight of the incredibly evident arousal pressing against his trousers. He fumbled with the buckles on them, when suddenly a grating sound filled the air - the balcony doors flying open. “Sissy! Aunt Mor wants to see your neckl- oh wow, who is that!?”

Fuck me. This cannot be happening.

I jumped up, pulling my dress down before my little sister could see the exposed flesh.

I scrambled for words, voice cracking as I scolded, “She can wait, Azzy, just go back inside.”

It was too late though, as my father’s shadow that had been trailing her all evening had already reported back and before Eris or I could flee, my father, mother, Uncle Rhys, and Lucien winnowed onto the balcony.

————————————————-

Stay tuned for part three!

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