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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

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When I Met The Devil

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Part Two to When I Kissed The Teacher which you can read here.

Summary - Azriel adored everything about you, but there was still certain information that you were keeping from him. Azriel finds out exactly what you've been hiding thanks to a particularly unfortunate visit.

Warnings - mentions of sexual abuse and neglect, angst, mentions of trauma

It had been three months since Azriel had taken you on your first (of many) dates. Azriel had been so nervous, not sure where to take you that would be able to live up to your expectations, even Nyx had given him some ideas by babbling on about what made you smile in the classroom.

Apparently you loved nature, of course you did, you were from the Spring Court. So Azriel had packed up a picnic and taken you to a garden of wildflowers away from the city to watch the sunset and gaze at the stars. You had taken his breath away when you had opened the door to him, you had dressed in a loose fitting pale blue dress with white flowers embellished into the bodice, the sleeves hung off of your shoulders and your hair lay unbound down your back.

That day had been one of the best days of his life, he had gotten to know you beyond your profession and learnt so much about you, but the nagging feeling that you were omitting some truth tugged at him, but not enough for him to make a deal about it. Azriel had kissed you under the stars, he had run his fingers through your hair and kissed you so passionately that you swore the world had stopped moving just so it could watch you

Since then, you had been inseparable.

Azriel showed up at the school each day after that, sometimes in the morning at drop off or in the evening at pick up, sometimes both, and he always brought you flowers or chocolates or anything he could think of that would bring a smile to those lips. He would walk you home, but more often than not he would pull you inside the River House and force you to have dinner with them.

You never objected to his wishes, you enjoyed his hands on you far too much to say no.

Azriel was happy to take things slow with you, you were so gentle and pure, if you wanted to wait years to share a bed with him then he was okay with that. You were worth any wait.

One morning you had opened the door to the school, frowning slightly when you couldn't see Azriel or Feyre and Rhys with little Nyx waiting on the grass. They would have told you if Nyx wasn't well and needed to take the day off unless it was serious, but even then, Azriel still would have showed up on the grass with our without Nyx just to see you.

It plagued your mind all day, and you did your best to conceal your worry from the children and continue as normal, but when it came to home time and none of them were there, you knew something wasn't right.

You had locked the room up quickly and stopped by a healer to pick up some infant friendly tonics just in case Nyx needed anything, bundling the vials in your hands as you rushed down the winding streets of Velaris, allowing your feet to take you where you needed to go whilst your mind reeled with endless possibility.

Lifting the hem of your skirt as you ascended the steps of the River House, you completely missed the scent that haunted your nightmares, too frantic with worry to notice it curling around you like chains. Then you saw the back of his head, shoulder length blonde hair and broad shoulders, and then the scent hit you, one of Spring rain and lifeful earth, and you dropped the vials in your hands onto the floor, not even flinching when they broke and cut through your skin.

The thing in question turned his head to the side and sniffed, smirking with feral delight before he fully turned to you, and you saw nothing else but him and those eyes that had made you do things you didn't want to too many times, they were dark and honed in on their prey. His lips tilted upward and he rose to his feet, and you didn't hear anything anyone else was saying or commanding as he strode across the room and stopped right in front of you. You didn't dare look up, you couldn't, and then his fingers gripped your chin harshly and forced your gaze upward.

"I've been looking for you," the room held a collective breath, his shoes crunched down on the broken glass and the liquid parted under his weight.

You knew that they were all watching you, waiting for you to say something, you averted your gaze to Azriel who was on his feet, fists clenched and glowering at the male who dared to touch you, "Nyx didn't show up to school, I thought he was sick, I was bringing tonics."

Feyre rose to her feet beside Rhys, "It's okay, Y/N," her eyes were soft, she could feel your terror, they all could, and then it seemed like your secret and finally been released from the depths of your shame, "Let go of her, Tamlin."

Tamlin chuckled but didn't take his eyes off of you, he cocked his head to the side and breathed you in, "Don't tell me to take my hands off what is mine," his voice was dangerously low, possession had taken over every part of him and the wolf was coming out to play, "Isn't that right, fiancé?"

"I'm not your fiancé," tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes and Azriel saw how small Tamlin made you feel, your shoulders had curled inward, your entire body was preparing to protect itself against the male who held your head in his hands. You looked to Azriel then, "I ran. I couldn't do it," you blinked hard and your tears flowed down your cheeks.

"Just because you ran doesn't mean that the agreement is void, Flower," you cringed, you felt helpless in his grip, like all of the independence you had worked for was nothing but dust dancing in the breeze, "The Tithe has been particularly awful without you."

Azriel lost it then, he grabbed Tamlin by the shoulder and forced him round, the action making his hand jolt away from your face, and Azriel landed a sickening blow to the side of his face.

"This is not a battle you want to fight, Tamlin," Rhys stood beside Azriel who was panting with fury, he knew what the Tithe was, they all did, and the thought of Tamlin using your unwilling body as a vessel for his sickening ritual was enough to send Azriel into a blind rage.

Azriel bent down to Tamlin's level, noticing Feyre rush to your side as he did to comfort you, and growled, "Touch her again and it won't be a battle, Tamlin. It will be a war."

Tamlin had the gall to grin, "She's my fiancé, Shadowsinger. Not even you can get between that."

"No, but I can," Cassian grabbed Tamlin by the neck of his coat, hauling him to his feet in front of Rhys, "Y/N is a member of the Night Court, she is a cherished member of my family. She is not your mate, so you have no claim on her and you know it. Now, leave my city before I cut your head from your shoulders and leave Spring lordless."

Knowing he wouldn't win on Night Court soil, Tamlin scoffed and headed for the door, not before stopping at your side and letting his gaze roam your figure, "They can't watch you forever. I'll see you soon, Flower."

Then he left.

And you stood standing in Feyre's arms pale and frozen, looking at the broken glass on the floor and shaking your head, "I have to go," you announced, peeling yourself out of Feyre's embrace and feeling like a completely awful friend to her, "I'm sorry."

"Y/N.."

You couldn't stick around and listen to her call your name, you couldn't stay there and witness Azriel looking at you like a stranger. So you ran. You ran all the way home, you didn't stop for a single moment until you closed the door behind you and slid down the wood, bursting into chest wrecking sobs.

If anyone would know who you were, it would be Lucien Vanserra, he was Tamlin's friend after all.

The red haired male found himself dragged before the Inner Circle by Elain, a thing he detested, he had just returned from the human realm and wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up with his mate, sitting in front of them was something he wanted to be rid of and fast.

"What do you know about Y/N? She came from the Spring Court," Lucien's eyes widened in saddening alarm at Feyre's question, he looked about the room as if you'd pop out from a corner at any given second.

"She's here?" Feyre nodded, "How is she?"

The question took them by surprise, and confirmed what they already knew, that you certainly we no double agent, but they had to know your story, it was a matter of protecting you, "She could be better. Tamlin was here."

Lucien's eyes darkened into molten lava pools and his nostrils flared, "Did he see her?" the silence confirmed his own query and he looked deflated, his shoulder fell and sadness floated over his face, enough sadness that Elain had moved to his side and wrapped his hand in her own.

"We need to know everything," Rhys ordered, moving his gaze to Azriel who was itching to leave the house and go to you, but even he had to know what had happened.

The Autumn male sighed, feeling conflicted, not wanting to tell your story for you but knowing he had no choice, "Y/N belongs to a very powerful Spring Court family, her father wanted a direct line to Tamlin so offered up his eldest daughter, Y/N, for marriage. Her father was a prick, no doubt still is. He sold Y/N to Tamlin like she was worth nothing more than what she could breed. She tried so hard to put off marrying him, she wanted a long engagement so that she could get to know Tamlin but everyone knew she just wanted more time to find a way out. Then the Tithe came and even I couldn't stop him from taking her into that cave," Lucien looked to Feyre who knew Tamlin all too well to know that what he was saying was nothing but the truth.

"Each year after that first Tithe, he sought her out against her will, you could hear her crying bouncing off of the walls. I couldn't watch it anymore so I helped her escape, I gave her enough money to be able to travel the continent and never heard from her again. I just did all I could to throw him off, to keep him away from her. Y/N was the happiest person in Spring, everyone loved her so much, and Tamlin ruined her."

"Seems like a pattern," Feyre cleared her throat and settled into Rhys' warmth that had wrapped around her like a blanket. She felt horrible, she thought she had it bad, but at least Tamlin never took her against her will like he had done to you repeatedly.

"Feyre I don't want to compare, but you have to understand that what he did to you was not nearly as bad as what he did to her. He took her light away, he forced her into a darkness I've never seen before or seen since, the neglection was sickening, she would cry for days on end, she'd mourn the life she dreamed of. It was unbearable."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, "She made it here though, I knew she'd find where she belonged in the end."

"Why didn't she tell me? I would have understood."

Rhys shushed his mate, he knew how much Feyre loved you, they all did, "Sometimes you don't want to talk about what others made you do," his mind drifted and eyes glazed over as he remembered his own story for a moment, the painful memories tugging at his heartstrings.

Rhys knew how it felt to be used against your own will, he knew how it felt to lie there each night and feel like a worthless pawn in someone else's game. He knew how it felt to work yourself into exhaustion trying to forget the terrors others had willingly inflicted on you.

If anyone could truly understand you, then it would be him. And there was no way he was going to let you lock yourself away and perish with shame when you had a family and life awaiting you.

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shadowdaddies · 2 months

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I have a request! Reader accidentally hurts themself in an embarrassing way and Rhys/cass/az(idc which one) sees the injury(bruise, cut, etc) and freaks out asking “who did this??” And reader has to awkwardly admit that they did it.

Idk if that makes sense but I thought it was a cute idea for a drabble and I really like your writing 🥰 Feel free to make any changes!

thank you love!💜 I went with Cassian for this one, as a clumsy person myself this resonated with me lol

Falling for You

Cassian x Reader fluff

warnings: mentions of injury, a bit suggestive

Lunging towards Cassian, you swung your sword in an arc, only for the wooden practice blade to hit the training mat. Cassian’s foot swiped your ankle, knocking you flat on your back as his own weapon found your throat.

With a teasing click of his tongue, your mate smirked down at you. “I believe you yield, my love.”

Scowling, you swatted the wooden blade away, standing up to stalk over to the weapons rack, shoving your tools inside. Warm hands wrapped around your waist, Cassian smirking as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“Come now, sweetheart. Don’t be a sore loser,” he purred.

With mock offense, you turned to face your mate, poking him in the ribs. “I’ll be sore if I want to be,” you retorted.

Mischief danced in hazel eyes as Cassian pulled you impossibly close, fingers tilting your chin so your nose brushed his. “Mm, but what if I offer you a massage, maybe a bath to help with that soreness?”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, the scent of your arousal instant at his rough voice. A dark chuckle left your mate’s lips, the general giving no warning before he tossed you over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” you yelled, swatting at him with a giggle while he carried you towards your bedroom. Your only response was a light smack on your ass, drawing another gasp as you settled in his hold.

Carrying you into the bathroom, Cassian set you down on the tile floor, directing you to undress while he moved to turn on the bath water.

You shucked off your boots, peeling your pants and shirt off when you looked up to see Cassian staring at you, horror etched on his features. Frantically looking over your body, your eyes found Cassian’s. “What? What is it?” you questioned.

Your mate visibly swallowed, his voice thick as he gestured weakly to your leg. “Did I... did I do that?” he muttered, silver lining his eyes that bored into your skin.

You looked down to where he was pointing, finding a bruise you knew all too well, the blackish-purple skin marring a large part of your upper thigh.

Embarrassment flooded over you, blush rising to your cheeks as you scrambled for words. You had hoped the injury would heal in time for Cassian to never know, but the way that he was looking at you right now, you needed to tell him.

Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “No, Cass, you didn’t do that...” you whispered. The moment those words left your lips, his demeanor changed.

The Lord of Bloodshed stood before you, eyes alight with fury. “Who did this to you? I will make them wish they were never born,” he growled, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his misplaced wrath.

“Calm down, love. No one else did this to me. I did it myself... on accident,” you muttered, lips pursed as you avoided eye contact.

Arching a questioning brow, Cassian’s hand gripped your chin, turning you to face him. “What happened, sweetheart?” he questioned, voice soft with concern.

You paced the bathroom, stopping at the tub where you dipped your toe into the warm water. With a smirk, you stepped into the small pool. “It doesn’t really matter,” you hummed, sending a playful splash towards Cassian. “Why don’t you come join me in the bath?” you purred, arching your chest above the water in an attempt to distract him.

Your mate smirked, and you knew that you had caught him as he removed his leathers, stepping into the tub with you. Wading to where you sat, Cassian’s broad hands found your waist, his neck dipping to your shoulder.

Warm lips found your sweet spot, sucking softly on the sensitive skin there as you sighed, rolling your hips against him. Suddenly he stilled his movements, lips moving against your neck. “Where did you get that bruise from, love?”

An exaggerated sigh escaped you. “Don’t laugh at me,” you muttered, gaze turning stern when Cassian pulled back, looking at you with a bemused expression.

“Nyx tied my shoelaces together,” you pouted, arms crossing over your chest. “And I didn’t realize it, so when I tried to walk, I tripped.” With a huff, you glanced to Cassian, the male biting his lip hard to keep from laughing.

His joy and amusement spread through the bond, forcing a smile of your own at his happiness. A small laugh escaped you at the ridiculousness of the situation, Cassian bursting with booming laughter shortly after.

Your stomach hurt, tears in your eyes from how hard you both laughed, gasping for air as you finally settled down. Cassian moved to the edge of the tub, pulling you in his lap and pressed a kiss to your hair.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I love you too,” you murmured.

“Maybe we can buy you some button up shoes, something child-proof” Cassian mused, earning an elbow to the stomach as you giggled in his arms.

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tswaney17 · 6 months

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Little Heir

@duskwhisperer and I are so excited to share “Little Heir” with you for @azrielappreciationweek day one, the family you make.

Thank you, @ruisfree for collaborating with us and bringing this piece to life. Still smiling and kicking our feet over all the creative details you added. We loved working with you! 💕

This commission and fic were inspired by the adorable idea of Azriel catching Nyx sneaking Aunt Elain’s cookies late at night. 🍪 We wanted to capture Azriel trying not to smile while Nyx guiltily looked up at him. With the scene set in Elain and Azriel’s kitchen, we thought it would be perfect to show Nyx’s artwork on display. And of course, we couldn’t resist showing our appreciation for a shirtless Az. 😏 We truly hope you adore this piece as much as we do.

Do Not Repost

🎨 @ruisfree | Comm by: @duskwhisperer & @tswaney17

Characters belong to Sarah J. Maas

~~~~~

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Trigger warnings: mild NSFW language, tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 1,177

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read here.

Azriel felt the pull even in his deep sleep. That urgent tug that something was amiss. He knew the feeling of his shadows trying to drag him from his slumber. Had experienced it for years.

He very nearly growled at the disruption, until a single shadow curled around his ear, whispering their secrets.

The heir is awake. He wanders the house.

That had his attention, his eyes blinking open and seeing the sky outside their bedroom window still stained deep blue and purple, the sun not yet basking over the eastern mountains to grace them with its presence. The moon’s glow across the floor indicated it was still very late at night or in the wee hours of the morning. Far too early for the nearly five-year-old to be out of bed.

Why Nyx was awake, he didn’t know, but he’d soon find out. Azriel carefully detached himself from Elain’s warm body. Her brows furrowed in protest, a wordless sound passing through her parted lips as he slowly slipped away.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved these fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist:

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

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throneofsapphics · 8 months

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crack headcanon for feysand, reader is friends with nyx and she meets feysand for the first time. she blushes instantly and they notice and think it’s hilarious. Reader drags nyx out later and whispers ” omg your parents are so hot, like ur mom is such a milf and your dad is such s dilf ” nyx is like ” ew that’s my parents ” the whole inner circle hears and laughs😩😭💀

nosy parents

(part two) (part three)

Summary: The Inner Circle overhears a conversation between Nyx and a friend

Warnings: none, not proofread

A/N: I LOVED this! lmao crack drabbles are my guilty pleasure, (sorry it ended up being more of a drabble than head cannons!)

Nyx, your best friend, decided it was finally time for you to meet his parents. You were hesitant at first, in fact you resisted it for as long as possible. Mother above, his parents are the High Lord and Lady of the night court. The fact that you’re somehow friends with him in the first place is still ridiculous, but his insistent badgering finally made you cave.

He told you to dress casual, and you made him come over to your apartment before and check that your idea of ‘casual’ was actually correct. He gave his approval, one thing you always appreciated about him is his unflinching honesty.

The dinner went well, you smiled and laughed throughout it and they had a way of making you feel comfortable. What Nyx didn’t tell you, is that the entire inner circle would be there. He slipped into your mind halfway through “what do you think?”

“I think you ‘conveniently’ forgot to tell me the entire inner circle would be here.”

“They’re all my family.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

Still both of you managed to escape outside, to one of the balconies, afterwards.

You were teasing him, nudging him in the side. “You didn’t tell me your parents are so hot,” and grinned.

“That’s gross,” he groaned, seeing him blush and get flustered was well worth it … for a few seconds, until the entire room behind you burst out into laughter. It was your turn for your entire face to turn beet red as you found them gathering behind you.

“It’s not my fault they’re nosy,” he hedged, “they probably wanted to see if were actually just friends.”

You audibly groaned, clutching your face in your hands. You'd never live this down.

#next gen acotar #feysand #feyre archeron x rhysand #feyre x rhys #nyx archeron #acotar drabble #acotar crack fic #acotar imagine

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acourtofmishapandmistakes · 4 days

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Shadowsongs

Summary: After Rhys and Feyre decide to take a trip away to the Summer Court for the night to escape the thralls of their newborn, Azriel is left caring for Nyx and finds that his greatest battle might just be getting him to sleep. I also recently rewatched the Labyrinth and forgot how much that movie slapped so the song from that is included.

As the Velaris tower clock chimed midnight, the sitting room of the River House was enveloped in the soft, ambient glow of faelight. Azriel sunk deeper into the plush, green, velvet couch, his expansive wings draped elegantly over the back of the chair, eyes heavy with exhaustion. His hand rhythmically patted the back of the squirming bundle nestled snugly against his chest. The babe, Nyx, resisted sleep with the tenacity of an Illyrian warrior, his tiny fists punching the air as if to protest the very concept of bedtime.

The room was a playful mess, strewn with toys - dolls lay abandoned, blankets were tossed aside, and bottles had rolled under chairs. Azriel had assured Feyre and Rhys he could manage babysitting for a day and night. They desperately needed a break after months of non-stop parenting in tandem with running the Night Court, and a trip to the breezy shores of the Summer Court was the only thing keeping Feyre from collapsing into tears. Feyre had sobbed when they left, overwhelming Azriel with reminders of Nyx’s schedule and a litany of do’s and don'ts, which Azriel already knew inside and out. Her maternal instincts flared to the point where Rhys had to gentle pull her away, reassuring her that Nyx would be fine for one night, and, if anything, they should be more concerned about Azriel surviving Nyx than Nyx surviving Azriel.

Typically, everyone shared babysitting duties throughout the week day, but with Nesta and Cassian off in the Autumn Court, Elain incapacitated by her first fae cycle, and Amren claiming she would rather cut out her own tongue than be left alone with a babe, the responsibility had fallen to Azriel. Leaving Nyx overnight for the first time might have been a tad ambitious.

“Come on, Nyx,” he coaxed with a whisper of amusement. “You’ve got to give in at some point.” Azriel briefly considered that perhaps this was how the victims of his torture efforts may have felt when they had been kept awake for hours on end. Perhaps he should start having them babysit a fussy Illeryian babe instead of cutting off fingers. He chuckled to himself before pushing the thought away.

Yet, Nyx remained defiant, his violet eyes locked on the ceiling, deep in thought, as if unraveling the secrets of the cosmos rather than giving in to slumber. Azriel exhaled deeply, his fingers threading through his tousled black hair. After learning about Feyre’s pregnancy he had stealthily devoured every parenting book Feyre had purchased, to the perfect formula-to-water ratio, optimal bath temperatures, and baby sensory activities, he had learned it all. When Feyre faced challenges with breastfeeding, Azriel had accidentally revealed his clandestine studies by suggesting a particular latching technique. Cassian had teased him relentlessly since. Despite employing every baby battle strategy known to him, Nyx was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel sank even further into the plush cushions, resigning himself to a long night. As he watched Nyx’s tiny chest rise and fall with each breath, he couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer stubbornness of the new babe. Azriel couldn’t tell if that was more from Feyre or Rhys, and then decided that that trait most likely came from his Auntie Nesta, whom Nyx had wrapped around his tiny, chubby fingers.

In the dimly lit room, Azriel’s gaze followed his shadows as they danced across the ceiling, capturing Nyx’s rapt attention. With a grin, he watched them twirl and twirl – they were always more playful when Nyx was around. His shadows seemed as curious about Nyx as he was about them. During gatherings at the River House, it wasn’t uncommon for the shadows to envelop Nyx, tickling him and teasing him, eliciting peals of laughter from the delighted babe as he reached out to catch them.

Elain had said before that the shadows and Nyx reminded her when she and her sisters were young, a black barn cat would seek her out to frolic among the late summer heat. Azriel wondered what Nyx made of these ethereal companions, if they were like an animal to him, or another playmate. He also pondered whether the shadows would maintain their fascination with him as he grew older. Azriel, himself, hadn’t spent much time around children this young, and his shadows seemed to be so gentle with the babe, as though they somehow could sense his innocence and hoped he would keep it forever.

As Azriel and Nyx both kept their gaze to the ceiling, the shadows began to craft intricate shapes and forms, transforming into a mesmerizing puppet show. Nyx’s restless squirming subsided as the shadows danced across the walls, casting enchanting silhouettes that swirled and twirled in their silent ballet creating a tableau of delight.

On the ceiling, an array of animals appeared in what resembled a grand ballroom scene. Pegasus, birds, and sheep mingled before parting to reveal a single swan, its wings unfurling with ethereal grace. The swan bowed elegantly before twirling loftily above its admiring audience. Then, emerging from the gathered shadows, a sly fox approached, gracefully taking the swan’s wings in its paws and spinning it in a delicate dance. Although the room was silent, one could easily imagine the soft strains of music. Nyx reached up excitedly, prompting Azriel to adjust his hold, lifting him slightly higher for a better view.

As the dance continued above, some shadows descended the walls and playfully twirled around Nyx, their cool touch eliciting giggles from the dark-haired babe.

The shadows conjured forth visions of Nyxs’ family, distant echoes of life beyond the cozy sitting room.

In one corner of the room, the shadows morphed into delicate snowflakes cascading down the wall. Above the floorboard, three figures raced across the scene – two winged Illyrians and one without wings. The winged males playfully lobbed snowballs at their wingless companion, who shielded his head with his hands. Suddenly, a log sprung from the ground, causing the wingless man to trip and tumble face-first into a pile of snow below. The two other males doubled over with laughter, one even dropping to his knees as the snow continued to fall. Nyx’s eyes widened with wonder, his tiny fingers reaching out to grasp the fleeting shapes. The snowball fight between his father and brothers drew excited coos and giggles from him, his laughed echoing around the room.

In the other corner, the shadows drifted into a scene of a woman standing at an easel, the woman's stomach swollen with child. The shadow woman stood before an easel, her brush moving across the canvas, she ran her hand over her stomach, glancing down towards it when a man walked in behind her, twirling her around into an embrace. The man leaned over, placing a tender kiss on the woman's stomach. Nyx babbled joyfully, his tiny feet kicking Azriel’s chest with delight, which while uncomfortable brought a smile to his face.

Across the ceiling, the shadows painted a scene of a great battle, a field of war and chaos as two winged males fight back to back against a vast army, shooting arrows and swinging swords.

While the shadows swirled the tapestry of memories, Azriel looked only at Nyx, who giggled and babbled in delight at the unfolding scenes. With each passing moment, it became increasingly apparent to Azriel that while the shadows were doing their best to soothe Nyx to sleep, they had only awakened him more. It became glaringly obvious that bedtime stories wouldn’t work.

Nyx’s giggles and coos echoed through the River House. With a sigh, Azriel gestured for the shadows to cease their dance, and the room was once again plunged into a soft, dim glow.

“Alright, Nyx,” Azriel murmured, his voice gentle but tinged with exhaustion. “Let’s try something else.”

He drew Nyx back into his arms, cradling him close against his chest. Rising from the enveloping comfort of the couch, Azriel’s footsteps were muted against the plush rug of the sitting room as he began to meander through the house. Moonlight streamed through the towering windows, casting the ornate corridors in a serene silvery light, illuminating the walls adorned with Feyre’s vibrant paintings.

Feyre and Rhys had both endured their share of sleepless nights, pacing the same halls with Nyx in their arms. Rhys had noted that being the babe of the Night Court it seemed all Nyx wanted to do was explore the world when the sun had set and all had gone quiet. Perhaps Nyx was more bat than babe.

Undeterred, Azriel pressed on, his footsteps echoing through the halls as he swayed in arms in a steady rhythm. But Nyx remained stubbornly awake, his eyes darting from window to window cooing loudly. As he reached the grand staircase that spiraled upwards, a faint cry echoed through the silence. Nyx stirred in his arms, his tiny fists clutching at his shirt as he let out a wail.

Azriel attempted to shush the fussy baby who now was wailing louder for what seemed no apparent reason. Perhaps Nyx was finally fighting exhaustion as well. With a sigh, Azriel retraced his steps, as he stepped into Nyx’s nursery.

Feyre had taken months to finally get the nursery the way she envisioned it. She had wanted Nyx’s room to encompass the entirety of Prythian as they were unsure what powers Nyx might hold.

Each wall of the room was a canvas of vibrant colors and intricate designs including the bay window that Feyre had insisted be where Nyxs’ bassinet be.

Painting the Spring Court wall had been a battle unto itself with Rhys and Cassian joking constantly that the wall should be burning to the ground, or that she should paint Tamlin being pursued by a dragon. Feyre had just shot them an obscene gesture and instead painted spring blossoms of pastel pinks and greens. Delicate flowers bloomed amidst emerald meadows, their petals unfurling in the warmth of the sun. Amongst the meadow was a warm pool with a waterfall cascading down a mountainside.

Opposite, the wall of Summer blazed with the fiery hues of the sun, a tapestry of gold and crimson beamed down onto the deep blue sea, where Tarquin’s white castle glistened atop the white sandstone mountain.

Next to it, the wall of Autumn was a symphony of earthy greens, oranges, reds, and browns. The Autumn Court forest held deep shadows which made the wheat fields protruding from them seem like shining gold. Lucien had helped Feyre paint this wall, and his awkward-looking, disproportionate deer and fawns clearly showed that.

Beside the Autumn wall, the Winter Court lay shrouded in a blanket of icy blues and silvery whites. Snowflakes danced amidst frost kissed pines, their branches bending beneath the weight of the winter embrace. Bears and arctic foxes scampered on the piles of snow, wearing the traditional colors. Elain had insisted on giving the little foxes scarves. Azriel had reminded her they were made for that sort of weather but Elain had only glanced at him sadly before saying “But what if they get cold” before she painted tiny mittens on the bears.

On the half of the ceiling closest to the door, Feyre had painted the Dawn and Day courts. Sunlight streamed through branches of ancient oaks as it rose from the corner of the room, and hills of rolling green with children from each court playing amongst them filled out the space.

Over Nyxs’ crib, Feyre had painted a deep blue color of the sky with a sparkle of stars strewn across it. Rhys had enchanted the space just below the ceiling to be constantly in motion with sparkling star dust which moved in and out of constellations, with the occasional shooting star flying high above.

As Nyx continued his tirade of shrill cries, Azriel rocked him around the room, shushing him as much as he could. As he continued to sway gently with Nyx in his arms, the baby began to quiet, his tiny body nestled into Azriels chest as his breaths steadied. With a tender smile, he began to sing, his voice a gentle melody through the darkness, like a whispered prayer.

“I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry,” he sang, “What could I do?”

With each note, Nyx grew more and more relaxed, his eyelids fluttering closed from the gentle cadence and rocking.

“My baby’s love had gone and left my baby blue” he sang, his voice soft and tender, “Nobody knew.”

Azriel watched Nyx’s tiny fingers curl against his chest, his breathing slow and steady and sleep drifted closer.

“What kind of magic spell to use, slime and snails, puppy dog tails, thunder or lightning,” Azriel continued to sing as he wandered carefully over to the crib.

“Dance magic, dance magic dance, dance magic dance,” He lowered Nyx into the soft blue oasis. “Jump magic, jump, jump magic, put that baby’s spell on me, kiss my baby, make her free,” Azriel placed his palm onto Nyx’s chest and continued to rub back and forth soothingly.

“I saw my baby,” He continued, softer, more of a whisper, “Trying hard as babe could try, what could I do?” Azriel dropped to his knees, his fingers tracing the lines of the baby's face as he rested his arm on the side of the bassinet and laid his head atop it. “My baby’s fun had gone, and left my baby blue, nobody knew.” Nyx’s soft pink lips fell open slightly as his eyes finally closed and his head fell to the side. Azriel smiled and found his eyes drifting shut as well.

Feyre found them the next morning that way. Nyx sprawled on his back, his tiny fingers wrapped around Azriels, and Azriel, a piled heap on the floor, his wings splayed on the floor behind him with his head still resting against the crib.

Rhys walked up behind her as Feyre motioned him silently. “I guess he does sleep,” she whispered.

“Who?” Rhys chuckled, “Az or Nyx?”

Feyre turned her head to look at Rhys, “Both I guess.”

Rhys asked Feyre if she planned to go in and wake either of them up but Feyre only shook her head, “I think they both could use a little more time.”

With that, Feyre shut the door quietly, leaving the warrior and the babe to sleep a little longer.

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the-lonelybarricade · 5 months

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In Silent Screams - Elucien Oneshot

Summary: Elain volunteers to look after her nephew so that Rhys and Feyre can get some much needed sleep

A wholesome, fluffy treat with a dash of angst inspired partly by this long ago exchange of headcanons with my friend @arrowmusings, partly by this recent post by @tuzna-pesma-snova, and partly because I think we can never have enough baby nyx content with his doting aunts and uncles! 🥰

Word Count: 2.7k

Read on AO3

A piercing wail woke Elain for the third time that night.

She groaned, rolling over to pull a pillow over her head like it might shield her from the sound. Plumed feathers, as it turned out, were a feeble defense against the piercing lungs of a newborn. At least she was upstairs, safely barricaded behind wood and stone and a firmly shut door.

Elain didn’t know how the others dealt with it—having such sensitive ears, capable of hearing the worms writhing through the soil below the house, and still enduring such close proximity to her crying nephew. Even in the moments of silence, where Feyre and Rhys managed to coax their son to sleep, Elain could still feel the reverberations in her skull.

No wonder Feyre and Rhysand looked so exhausted. They would never say a word in complaint—how could they? Their child was a miracle, and Elain knew they would surrender sleep for eternity if it was in service of their child. But she swore she swore the foundations of the town house tremored from the next bout of wails.

Her ringing ears coaxed her out of bed and down the stairs. She was already awake, still unused to this body and its overwrought sensations, how keenly she could feel existence ebb and throb around her. She’d never mastered how to tune it out. But at least if she couldn’t sleep, Rhys and Feyre could escape to the House of Wind for some peace and quiet while she watched over her nephew for a few hours.

“Are you sure?” Rhysand asked.

He was better at hiding it; a smile glided across his lips as easily as the autumn leaf coasting on the other side of the large window pane he stood before. Nyx caught sight of it and pointed, prompting Rhys to pivot without faltering the rhythm of his slow back-and-forth bouncing. He cooed quietly to Nyx as if his son had discovered something fascinating, and it didn’t take long for Nyx to drift back to sleep. Fatherhood suited him, she thought, even as she noticed the weary draw to his shoulders, the rumpled clothes.

Feyre mentioned that Rhys answered the majority of the midnight cries without being asked, out of duty and apology and pure, unbridled love. He wore it plainly. There was a gentleness in his eyes as he handed his son to Elain, a quality she only truly glimpsed in the High Lord when he was looking at Nyx or Feyre.

Elain’s heart squeezed a bit at the sight of it. Some days, she felt so lost, surrounded by so much love. Half of her was here, in this body that felt and heard and smelled so much, and the other half felt as if she were the fallen leaf outside, being swept by the night-kissed breeze. Only ever observing from the other side of the thick glass. Untouched by the warmth in this house.

“Thank you,” Rhys said, smiling as though he genuinely meant it.

Elain nodded, forcing a smile in return. “Go rest. I’ll alert you if I need anything.”

Or Nyx would. She didn’t speak the thought, but she wasn’t certain it wasn’t as readily communicated through his magic by the way he huffed. Not quite a laugh, but as he nodded his goodbye, she saw a glint in his eye that spoke of humor. He vanished into smoke before she could assess it further, undoubtedly eager to return to his mate for a rare moment of peace.

She didn’t begrudge them that peace. They earned it. She was happy to do what she could to help them, even if that was something as simple as sitting across the soft cushion on the bay window, cradling her nephew to her chest, and staring blankly through the glass. She hardly registered the city beyond, gilded in ribbons of moonlight. Her gaze was fixed on the autumn leaves collected on the ground, wondering what had attracted Nyx’s attention.

The colors, she wondered? She imagined he might have a mind fashioned after Feyre, where he saw and felt and breathed in color. It would be fascinating to a child to witness leaves changing color for the first time. There was a time when Autumn felt like magic to her, too. Long before she ever associated it with cold, with the first creepings of winter. With vibrant red hair and unnervingly perceptive eyes.

A faelight flickered to life in the dining room. The light reflected off the glass, wiping away the night sky and cityscape so that Elain was confronted with her own reflection. And above her shoulder, as though she’d summoned him, Lucien Vanserra had stumbled into the kitchen.

In truth, Nyx’s crying hadn’t been the only thing keeping her awake.

She turned too sharply, forgetting there was a sleeping baby in her arms. Lucien, at least, looked astonished to find her there, and his eyes flitted to the child stirring in her arms, beginning to fuss. He looked as though he were debating the merits of veering straight out of the dining room, abandoning whatever task had lured him to begin with.

Then, the shrieks began.

Elain flinched, holding the child at arm��s length as the sound pierced through her bones. She could feel the vibrations in her teeth, and she wanted to gnash them as her vision went fuzzy around the edges.

“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to hold him,” Lucien said, fashioning himself as being helpful.

At twenty-three years, she had admittedly little exposure to child-rearing. She’d been too young to glean anything helpful when Feyre was born, and she’d scarcely been around many children in the years since. As a woman—a female—it was supposed to come naturally to her. Certainly, everyone expected it would come naturally to her, and she had never questioned why it wouldn’t. She’d always felt a nurturing instinct, always felt a compulsion to care for plants and people and wounded things. A baby felt like a natural extension of that affinity.

And yet… yet she felt clumsy with Nyx. Uncertain how to hold him. He had wings, after all, no human child had wings. Should they be included in the swaddle? Could she manipulate them safely, or would they tear at the slightest pull? Would she fracture this beautiful, fragile creature if she accidentally applied too much strength with her new, foreign body? Sometimes, she felt like she was the one who was fragile. The glass slowly splintering from the blow of those piercing wails.

He was crying so loudly Elain couldn’t think.

Lucien was standing before her now, and she scowled at him like this was his fault. If he hadn’t startled her, she wouldn’t have startled Nyx. And Rhysand would be coming back down any second, and she knew he wouldn’t say anything in judgment, that he’d be happy to take back his son and that he’d appreciate her attempt at kindness nonetheless.

But she was tired of feeling so useless. And this was the one thing she was supposed to be good at. Had being fae taken this away from her, too? Was she unfit to be a mother because some part of her was fundamentally broken, flooded and washed away with her humanity during all those agonizing seconds she’d been in the Cauldron? She’d been screaming at the top of her lungs, too, like Nyx was now. The only difference was that water had filled her mouth, her lungs, and no one had heard her screaming.

Her pain had been utterly silent. It always has been. No one saw it, no one heard it.

Elain flashed her teeth at Lucien, some instinctual warning that he was coming too close. He stopped, eyes wide, and raised his palms in surrender.

“I know how to hold a child,” she snapped.

“It doesn’t look like it,” he said dryly.

The cries pitched in volume, and she winced. Nyx had fallen asleep in his father’s arms, utterly content, and by now, he’d surely put together that it was not his mother or father holding him, not even one of his dear uncles, but his insecure, uncertain aunt.

Softer, Lucien added, “Do you want help?”

“I don’t need it,” she said as she stiffly readjusted Nyx, attempting to mimic how Rhys had been cradling him earlier. She sucked in a breath at the newfound proximity, those wails now a close-range weapon assaulting her mind again and again.

Elain squeezed her eyes shut. She recalled Feyre’s lessons on mental shields and wondered if there was some equivalent for shutting out all of this sensation. No one else seemed to find it as overwhelming. Rhys and Feyre, she could excuse as parents blindly devoted to their child. But Lucien, hardly a step away, did not flinch or clench his teeth. He held his shoulder tense, though that was not unusual when they were in the same room as each other.

He was studying her in that unnerving way he often did when he thought she wasn’t looking. Elain braced herself for the tug she occasionally felt on the other side of the bond. She thought it was the last thing she could handle at that moment. It would be the final, frayed edge that, if pulled, would send her unraveling into a pool of shapeless, tangled string. Fortunately, there was no pull. Lucien’s lips parted as if something dawned on him, and then he shifted. The movement was so subtle Elain would have thought nothing of it if Nyx hadn’t immediately seized crying.

Elain blinked, craning to look at her nephew, then again at her mate. Nyx’s mouth was moving, his little face pinched. She could see the back of his throat rattle with the force of his anguish, could feel the vibrations thrum through his tiny body. But there was no sound.

“What did you do?” She wanted the question to sound closer to an accusation, but she could not strain the relief from her voice.

Lucien shrugged. “It’s just a glamor. You seemed overwhelmed.”

Her ears were still ringing in the silence. She moved her jaw back and forth, trying to focus on other sensations—the newborn scent of her nephew, the curious scratch of the wind against the townhouse. The slow, steady beat of her mate’s heart. Elain shut her eyes and began swaying to its rhythm, humming quietly to shut out the echoing remnants of the crying.

When it finally faded, she opened her eyes, unsurprised to find that Lucien hadn’t moved.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “He was… so loud.”

Lucien nodded. “You’ll get used to it one day.”

“The crying?”

“The fae senses.” He glanced thoughtfully at Nyx, and Elain wondered if he could still hear the crying. Did the glamor only impact her? “You’ll get better at tuning out unwelcome sights and smells. And if not—there’s always magic.”

Feeling Nyx start to settle, Elain shifted on the bay window until her back hit the wall. Lucien stared at the space she created on the other side of the cushion but didn’t dare accept the movement as an invitation. Not until Elain nodded, and he cautiously ventured forward, apparently unconvinced this wasn’t a trap.

“I don’t really know how to use magic,” Elain said. “I can… feel it. But I’m not sure how to control it.”

Lucien claimed a tedious seat at the edge of the nook, both feet planted firmly on the ground so that he might bolt at the soonest provocation. Carefully, he asked, “Would you like to learn? I’m sure Feyre would be willing to teach you.”

He didn’t volunteer himself, and she wondered if he had as little interest in teaching her as she had in learning from him. Which was a good thing, she reasoned. But her chest felt tight.

“I don’t know,” she said. It was honest. “I know that I should want to learn. But it sounds like it will be exhausting, and I am already so tired. Every day, it’s too much. All of the people in the city talking over each other, the crying seagulls and the roaring tide. I’d like it to stop. Just for a little while, and then maybe I’ll be ready.”

Ready for what? She could see him wanting to ask. Elain was grateful when he didn’t.

Instead, he glanced around this small, cushioned nook and asked, “How’s that?”

Elan’s brows merged, not following, until she paused her wandering mind long enough to listen. There was no lapping water, no writhing soil, no percussion of even breathing, layered and out of sync as the city slept around them. There were still some sounds. That ever-present heartbeat, twining with her own. Those were more coordinated, just like her slow exhale and his steady inhale. And though she could still hear more than she could as a human, for once, her existence was narrowed solely to this small nook in the world, where it was just Lucien and Elain and her nephew.

She exhaled again, feeling the tension in her body release in that single breath. “Another glamor?”

“A shield,” he said, raising his knuckles to knock against a solid, invisible barrier. “Let me know when you need me to lower it.”

“Are you staying?”

There must have been an edge to her voice. One he misinterpreted, for he shook his head.

“I don’t need to,” he said, already shifting his weight to his feet. “The shield will remain once I leave. You can always tug on the bond when you’d like me to—”

“Will you stay?” Elan wished he didn’t look so stunned. It faltered her confidence enough that she scrambled to add, “So that you can add the glamor in case Nyx starts fussing again.”

“Right,” he said. He cleared his throat. “Of course I can stay.”

Lucien settled back on the cushion, and this time, with the encouragement of a raised brow from Elain, he adjusted himself until his back was against the opposing wall. They were facing each other, and fortunately or unfortunately, there was enough space on the shared cushion for her legs to stretch to one side and Lucien’s to stretch to the other without touching.

What would it be like to touch him? She remembered the one time in Hybern. Cold and trembling on the floor, that first touch had felt like thrusting her skin into an open fire. The heat was too startling against the numb, thawing her too quickly, too soon.

But with the sun breaking the horizon in the distance, gilding all of his loveliest features in soft, glowing light, she thought it wouldn’t feel so excruciating to be touched by him this second time around. Less like burning fire and more like warm, buttery sunshine.

Realizing that they’d fallen into silence, and that she’d been staring at him without saying a word, Elain asked, “What brought you into the dining room to begin with?”

Cast in the rising light, his cheeks had taken on a rosy hue. “Rhysand knew I was awake. He asked me to come in here to light the fire.”

That drew Elain’s attention to the empty hearth, blackened from the fire that had died sometime in the night. She’d seen Rhys light the flames with his magic a hundred times before.

“Why couldn’t Rhys light it?”

“I was coming in here to ask him the same thing,” he said dryly. With a clipped laugh, he muttered, “Nosy bastard.”

Insufferable busybody, was more like it. Elain shook her head, though she was finding in this cocoon of silence that she was grateful Lucien had come.

She asked, “Why were you awake to begin with?”

His eyes met hers. Held, in a way that spoke far more than his explanation of, “the crying baby, of course.”

“Of course,” she said, breathless.

His heart rate picked up, no longer the rolling rhythm she’d used to rock Nyx to sleep.

“And you?” Lucien prompted. “What were you doing awake?”

She’s woken to the sound of that heartbeat. Pulled from whatever dream she’d been having, like some intrinsic part of her thought it was wrong to listen to that heartbeat and not follow its call. It was why she could never sleep very well whenever Lucien stayed in the house.

“The crying baby,” she said. “Same as you.”

#Elucien #Elucien fic #Elucien fanfic #Elucien fanfiction #Elain x Lucien #Lucien x Elain #Nyx Archeron #Rhysand #Lucien Vanserra #Elain Archeron #feysand

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hellcat8908 · 6 months

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Hii I love all your work for nyx could you write a fic where his mate struggles with alot of anxiety and depression so one day when the reader doesn't visit the night court at all he can tell somethings up and finds her in her room breaking down but he manages to comfort her

His Burden Nyx x Female Reader (Both Adults)

Warnings: Mental Health, Language, Angst

As you quickly made your way back home, you shielded the bond, not wanting to be a burden to Nyx while he was at the Night Court. The words you weren't meant to hear from a group of women outside the Court had triggered your attack. Even though they hurt what they had said was true.

You knew you were a burden to Nyx. You've caused him to have to leave his duties early or not be able to spend time with his family because of your attacks. You had taught yourself how to shield the bond to prevent him from any guilt over not knowing.

You made it home and walked upstairs. You laid in bed grabbing Nyx's pillow. His scent brings you some comfort as you focus on the breathing techniques Nestavhad taught you. You'd hope it would be enough, but your mind kept turning on you. Dragging you further into the darkness filled with your insecurities. You could feel your chest tighten as your breathing became shallow.

You managed to get out of bed and into the shower, leaving the water as hot as it could be. You sat under the stream of water and tucked your knees to your chest as the tears fell. Your clothes cling to your skin as they become soaked. You're pulled under, and you sink further into the darkness that is your mind.

Nyx keeps awaiting your arrival, glancing at the doors. He carries on with his duties while he starts to worry. He keeps his face neutral as he uses his daemati powers to ask his mother to check on you. He impatiently waits to hear back while carrying on about his business. Feyre informs him you didn't answer the door and the house is dark.

Nyx mentally curses and tries reaching you through the bond again, but no response comes. He reaches out to Rhys, asking if he can come take over for him. Rhys responds that he will and walks in moments later, allowing Nyx to excuse himself. After exiting the room, he rushes home.

As he bursts through the door, he starts calling your name. He takes the stairs 2 at a time as he makes his way to the bedroom. Upon discovering it empty, he calls out again, "Babe, where are you?" Still no response, but he hears the shower running. He quickly makes his way into the bathroom and finds you in the shower.

Noticing you're still dressed, he kneels in front of you, " babe, I'm here." He says softly, reaching out for you. The water is ice cold, and he sees you shivering. "Fuck, babe. We need to get dried off and warmed up." He turns the water off and carefully carries you out of the shower.

He sits you on the counter, "I'm going to remove your wet clothes and dry you off." Nyx says, hoping for some sort of a response. You just stare blankly as your eyes are bloodshot and puffy from all the crying. He gently peels your wet clothes off of you before grabbing a towel and gently drying you off from head to toe.

He grabs one of his sweatshirts and pulls it over you. You quit shivering as he picks you up and carries you to bed with him, climbing in and keeping you in his lap as he holds you. He pulls the blanket over you and gently strokes your hair. "Come back to me, please." He says softly. "I'll be here waiting as long as it takes. Please come back to me." He continues.

He gently starts rubbing soothing circles on your back as your breathing starts to sync with his. "I've got you." He says as he kisses the top of your head. He keeps reassuring you he's there, and you're not alone as he tries to comfort you while warming you up. "What they said was mean, but it didn't make it any less true." You say softly, barely loud enough for Nyx to hear.

"What who said? When did they say this?" Nyx asks, trying to remain calm for you. "The women outside of court today, I wasn't meant to hear them." You say numbly. Nyx hates how hollow you've become in a matter of hours. "What women? What did they say?" He asked with a hint of anger.

"I'm a burden to you, your family, and your friends." You answer. "You've never been a burden to any of us. I don't know what's made you think that, but those women have no right to comment on things they know nothing about." Nyx tells you, gently turning your face towards his letting you see the truth to his words.

"Stop trying to pretend I don't make your life harder with my issues. You've had to miss out on so many things because of me. I'm holding you back, and I'm selfish for holding onto you when I know how much I've ruined for you." You say as you move to get out of his lap. His arms tighten around you, trying to hold you. "Let go of me." You demand.

He releases you, and you move to sit at the edge of the bed. "I can't keep you from living your life the way you were meant to." You tell him softly. Even though you're only inches away from him, it feels like miles. "I'm living my life the way I want to, and that includes being with you." He says, trying not to escalate the discussion. "You'd be better off without me and my issues." You tell him.

"Stop. Stop telling me what you think is best for me." He tells you. "I've listened to this long enough, and we need to clear things up. You have never been a burden to me or anyone close to me. I love you, and my family loves you. I haven't missed out on anything because without you, those memories aren't worth having." He says, kneeling in front of you, gently resting his hands on your legs.

"Love, you are my everything, and without you, life isn't worth living. You make me the happiest I've ever been. If somedays you need a little extra love, I've got an endless supply to give you. You're not a burden. You're my mate, and I have the honor of taking care of you." He says gently, taking your hand in his.

His words bring tears to your eyes as he sits beside you and holds you. "I'll always be here for you, just promise me you won't quit on me." He says as he gently wipes your tears. "I promise." You tell him softly. "Come on, Love. I'll make you something to eat since I know you haven't eaten all day." Nyx says as he helps you to your feet.

"Can we have breakfast?" You ask excitedly at the idea. "My baby gets whatever she wants. He says as he leads you to the kitchen. "Well, in that case -" you say teasingly. Nyx just laughs and pulls you into his side, "Like I said whatever you want." You smile, "Well what I really want is this."

You say before kisding him softly. He deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms around you. You break the kiss and give him a genuine smile, which he returns. "I love you." You tell him. "I love you too." He says. "Now to make breakfast for my beautiful girl." Nyx says.

#acotar #batboys #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #acotar angst #nyx archeron #nyx x reader #nyx

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fever-fluff · 6 months

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Home V

Word count: 3.2k (Not Proof Read) Azriel is butting heads with his new companion, being forced to recognise some hard truths...

Part IV , Part VI

The waves crashing against one another was a sound she hadn’t realised she’d missed so much in her time away. Brien had taken up post beside her, finally moving away from their guest for the first time since that night. She had felt his reluctance to carry out their journey after she had woken him for the terrors that had plagued his mind. It wasn’t the first time he had dealt with them, she supposed. But the undiluted fear that had come off him in waves was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

So, she had silently requested Brien to accompany him when she couldn’t. And now that they’d made t to the swelling ocean, his anticipation to slip away had turned into a desire to run from what he’d promised. She’d smelt the shift so intensely that she almost felt bad for keeping him here. But their work was more important than running from inner demons, at least to her anyway. Besides, there was no telling whether he’d return to Indere to Mor, and she couldn’t allow someone a new friend held so dear decide to disappear into his shadows.

She moved away from them towards the cove they’d need to complete the journey from, walking down the steep rocks she’d passed so many times she didn’t need to follow Brien’s lead anymore, but his presence in front of her was a welcome one. They’d spent centuries together, sometimes it only being the two of them, and he had become apart of her just as much as she for him.

Aodhan was talking to Azriel behind her, explaining how they’d cross safely without fear of the swallowing waves beneath. “You’ll have to fly on the currents, making sure to take the ones sweeping up and avoiding those that’ll push you towards the swell. It gets easier as you do it, but winnowing is out of the question. There’s wards up that haven’t been broken longer than I’m alive.”

“And another reason Mor wouldn’t be able to cross regardless of whether she was allowed to or not.” He’d already pieced together that it was too dangerous to carry another fae as you navigated the currents. Aodhan nodded in confirmation, “We’ve had sailors and other fae try to cross before, whether they knew the islands were inhabited or not, we don’t know. Their secrets went down with them to the bottom of the sea.”

She was still looking towards the sound of the sea when she’d heard his next question. “Which still doesn’t explain how you’re crossing…” She smiled, not straying from her position, but pulled a sharp whistle to Brien who was preoccupied with sniffing around something to her right. Her voice cut loudly to the howling wind that had picked up as if it sensed the oncoming flight, “I can’t let you in on all my secrets just yet Shadowsinger.”

Brien moved to her feet, his physical body shifting into something else, something entirely magic. It swirled around her, climbing from her legs upwards and taking whatever was physical of her with it. There was no sign of her feet beneath her, not feeling of them either. They ceased to exist, as did the rest of her body as Brien climbed and climbed. It was always terrifying, feeling everything she was and is being turned into what felt like nothing. Brien had reached her neck as she bid her goodbyes, “I’ll see you both on the other side,” and the very last of her body was engulfed.

There was never any memory of what had happened once her consciousness was consumed. She had been something, then wasn’t, and until Brien decided to place her back in the physical world she did not exist in and shape or form. She always thought maybe one day, if Brien ever decided to, he could just allow her to be that way for eternity. She didn’t know if he could form his physical body without bringing her back, and never thought it necessary to find out.

The return of her was always more tedious than the consuming, taking longer as if Brien wanted to make sure he didn’t forget to form a toe or a finger on the way back. Azriel and Aodhan hadn’t made it over yet, and she wondered if he’d actually attempted to make a run for it when she had disappeared. But the beats of two pairs of wings from the sea was enough to confirm her thoughts wrong. She sat perched on a rock, Brien wrapped loosely around her shoulders, purring loudly. He always craved the closeness of it after, as if he missed her presence in the short time she wasn’t there. Aodhan and Azriel were panting from the exertion it took to cross over, she wondered if either of them had gotten close to being swallowed on the way over.

She stood as the caught their breath, moving to greet the two of them on home soil. Home. It felt good to be able to call the ground she stood on that. The chieftains were right to call her, it had been far too long.

“Azriel” his body turned to her attention, “welcome to our home.”

Azriel never, never, wanted to agree to a race like that again. After he had gotten over his spluttering about how Brien had practically eaten her in a wave of pure magic, Aodhan had insisted that it was the best way to cross, that it would take his mind off the sheer force that would be beneath him. But it had done no such thing, and he’d nearly toppled through the rough wind too many times and fell straight into a watery grave. Dancing with death had always been easy for him and his brothers, but that was sheer stupidity.

But, looking at where he’d be stationed for the next while, he understood what that graveyard beyond the cliffs was hiding.

Peace.

He felt it in the wind, soft and warm unlike the ones he’d just flown through. Lush green covered the sloping sides of the tops of the cliffs above him, a colour so inviting he felt the itch to roll in it like he were a dog. Trees of every kind seemed to guard him on both sides, and the sounds of running water filed his ears from somewhere. There was a quiet here he had never felt before, there was no inkling of being alert for oncoming dangers from somewhere. This place was a land that felt like he had passed on, but the aches in the muscles holding his wings and the tightness still filling his chest from a lack of air grounded him from thinking he had truly died going over the water.

They had begun to walk inland, passing floral and fauna that had gone undisturbed for centuries, unperturbed by their trek and seemingly unaware of the predators they could be. Azriel had never seen the likes of it -even Velaris, the city which held an imaginable number of dreams and hopes couldn’t hold a candle to the utter surrealness of this place.

Even watching her as she walked among paths long trodden into the earth, her steps were lighter than before. Like she had nothing to fear behind the bends ahead or the treeline to her side. Brien didn’t walk as closely to her either, shifting between prancing legs and swift wings as he basked in the afternoon sun overhead. The stopped slightly as they came to a dip in the land, the expanding view of her land filling his vision. She nodded towards Aodhan, “Fly ahead and let everyone know we’re back.” His arrival with them a silent command between her words was not lost on him as Aodhan unfurled his wings and split through the air, the gust he left behind making Azriel plant his feet more firmly in place. Before he had even looked to the sky, Aodhan had flown out of sight.

“Sometimes I forget the strength he has until he takes off.” The fondness in her voice was contagious and Azriel found himself smiling along. “You must be proud.”

Her face had tilted towards the sun to take in the heat as she sighed, “You have no idea.”

“When he was fifteen, he’d crash landed into the roof of our home, falling into where I was sitting trying to enjoy a glass of wine after a long day. It took him a week to repatch the hole. But the entire time all he could talk about was how fast he had flown and how he’d become faster and faster.” They were walking side by side now, his attention raptly on the joy she seemed to light up with as she gave him a laugh, “I couldn’t even be mad about the roof, or that he could have hurt himself. He seemed so happy in that moment that all I wanted from then on was to keep it that way, that he’d never feel bad about being who he was.”

“His happiness meant your happiness” Azriel thought back to Nyx, already noting the familiar feeling he had for his nephew brewing in his chest. “My brother, he has a little one now with his mate. I’m certain the whole family would tie the stars on strings for him if it’d make him smile.”

“It’s terrifying, thinking what you’d justify to bring them happiness. Everything is fair game when it comes to them.” her sentiment was horrifyingly true for Azriel. If anything -or anyone- ever got in the way of Nyx, not only would Feyre and Rhys burn the world, the rest of them would destroy whatever ash was left over in their wake. The air had turned tense around them for a moment until she spoke again, “It’s the reason I’m doing this, pushing to open the boarders that is… Aodhan, like many of the younger ones, is restless. He’s never truly seen the rest of the world. And this peace we’ve created, it’s become suffocating for them.”

She made to grasp his hand, gripping his fingers with hers stiffly, as if it would convey how much resolve she had in her to make this happen. “Children of peace are so different from children of war, Azriel. He – they – need the freedom we’ve kept from them for too long.”

He wanted to believe her, truly. But he’d seen so much of the ugly side of the world that he couldn’t bring himself to stop the words spilling from his mouth, “The world isn’t as welcoming as you think. It’s not as beautiful as here, the wounds are still so fresh from everything that I doubt even the next few centuries can fix it. Too much blood has been shed…”

“And yet your sister tends to those wounds not far from here, doing the work so many before have been too scared to even consider a possibility.” Something hard had entered her tone, and he felt himself wishing to take back his words if only to remove it as quickly as it had come, but he persisted. “She’s creating trade routes, what you’re implying is opening up a world, an unknown world, to the rest of us. You can’t possibly think it will end in peace…”

“She’s connecting worlds, how is that so different from what I want?”

“You know damn well how different it is. You’ve been cut off from the rest of us for centuries! You hid during wars that the rest of us bled for, how welcoming do you think our world will be to yours once they realise you have come out of everything unscathed while the rest of us clawed our way out of hel to rebuild what was left?” She’d ripped her grip from his at that, eyes hardening and levelling him. Even though he knew she couldn’t very well see him, Azriel had a mind to take a step back. “Do not try to educate me on political matters I am damn well aware of Shadowsinger. I see now I should have let you slink off in your fear instead of having Brien watch you like a dog.”

Azriel bristled at her admission, “Fear? Do you think that was what that was?” the distance he created closed instantly as he matched her stance a hair’s breadth away, “I have come here, an unknown territory with unknown fae, unguarded and you believe I am afraid?” His wings had spread wide, shadows pouring from them steadily as if to snuff the light that surrounded the two of them forever in a sea of darkness. But the female in front of him didn’t cower, didn’t balk at his act of dominance as so many others had.

“I have been alive for over seven hundred years; I know fear when I smell it. And the stench of it smothers you Azriel, whether you realise it or not.”

The hitch of his breath seemed to pull her from the fight she seemed so wound up to have, and she sighed when he answered her with a growl. “Azriel, I am not ignorant to what fae outside these islands may think. But this is the only step forward. If you do not want to help, then that is your choice, and you may leave whenever you want. But do not shut a door you haven’t properly opened yet.”

As she stepped away from him and the wave of shadows around them, turning to begin the walk again, Azriel felt himself torn in two. He was still angry, her implication still stinging fresh, but he hadn’t lost himself enough to forget the rest of her words. So, begrudgingly, he made to follow. Brien had flown back in between it all probably to ensure his masters safety and now slunk in between her steps, chuffing at him as if it was his fault the mood had turned sour. He growled back lowly at the disrespect, but the familiar had already taken to ignoring him in favour of watching a butterfly in the nearby brush.

Azriel wasn’t sure what to expect with his arrival, newly announced as it was. For somewhere so disconnected, surely a newcomer would warrant some type of wariness in the form of unchecked violence should the need arise. But, as they reached as small town that she had told him was one of many that sat on the outskirts of the main part of the island, he was met with very much the opposite.

Fae with wings very much like Aodhan’s had come out in groups to get a glance of what they’d heard to be an emissary of the known world. Small children, more than he had ever seen in one place his entire life, huddled in groups or at the legs of who were most likely their parents as he passed through beside her. Their whispers reached his ears quickly.

Gods, look at his wings…

Mom, why do they look like that?

Dad, why does his wings look different to ours?... He’s not fae like us son, he’s a foreigner. What’s a foreigner? Ahhhh, it’s someone who comes from a different place than you do… Oh….

Do you think he can fly in the rain?

Wonder where he’s coming from? Probably the continent, it’s where Danu was last visiting.

He looked to her in question of the last whisper he listened to, “Danu?”

“An honorary title, it’s what most fae will use instead of my given name.” He hummed his understanding, “So should I be using it as well?”

She threw him a shrug as they entered one of the buildings, “If you want, it makes no difference to me.”

The building turned out to be a tavern of a sorts. Bottles lined the shelves behind a counter, and tables with precarious looking stools littered the rest of the floor. But she made for the back of the room, pulling back a piece of fabric to reveal a better looking table and chairs made for those with wings more private than the rest of the place. Danu, he supposed it would be best if he honor her name here for the good graces of the rest, motioned for him to sit while she went to grab the bottle and two tumblers the barkeep had left on the counter without a word.

Pouring what looked to be whiskey for each of them, she lifted her glass in cheers to his and downed it in one go. It burned his throat as fire would going down, hitting the base of his stomach far harder than any liquor in Rita’s ever had and he found himself staving off a cough.

“Uisce thine, one of the best things to ever grace the world of drinking.” Azriel didn’t really agree with her sentiment. If either Cassian or Nesta got their hands on the likes of this, well, there wouldn’t be much to keep the chaos that would ensue from happening. “Perhaps you should keep this on the island.” Their spat from earlier on seemed to be a matter of the past for her as she laughed in understanding. Pouring a second round, she began to tell him more of her home and how to navigate it. “Muintir na Lasrach are an old race, they predate even some families of high fae and our customs are much different to yours.”

He listened closely to how they didn’t believe in the mother creating the known world, and how the phoenix was one of four gods who had given up a single feather to create them from fire, wind and clay. “Like the phoenix, they’re incredibly selfish down to their very nature, so I’d be careful if you decide to venture outside of political connections and who you choose to do that with. Male and females alike are extremely territorial if they’ve claimed someone for themselves, and because you’re an outsider death wouldn’t be too harsh a punishment if you put a foot wrong.” Azriel felt his stomach drop as the memory of Rhys swearing him off Elain resurfaced. He’d made the mistake of coming between fate once before, he wouldn’t do it again. “No mates. Noted.”

Her brows pulled together in rebuttal. “There’s no mates on the island, at least not in your knowledge of the term. Everyone here chooses their partner of their own accord, no fate involved. They’re just extremely territorial is all I’m saying.”

Azriel didn’t know how to comprehend what she’d admitted. Regardless of whether they believed in the mother or not, how could there be no semblance of mates anywhere. “How is that possible?”

She made to pour one last drink for them before they’d go to an inn for the night, “A story for another time. Drink up, and I’ll tell you the rest of what you need to know after we’ve had some stew.”

Pronunciation of words

Muintir na lasrach —> mwin-ter na lass-rock

Uisce Thine —> ish-kah chin-a

Aodhan —> a-dawn

Taglist @mis-lil-red, @justdreamstars, @florencemtrash

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nightcourtseer · 10 months

Text

Nyx’s Nightmare

Summary: Nyx wakes up in the middle of the night from a bad dream - to be expected, as war is on the horizon. Elain comforts him, with the help of someone else.

Pairing: Elriel

Read on A03

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Nyx woke with a start in the middle of the night.

Cool air swept through the window of his bedroom, flung wide to let in fresh air and the comforting sight of the multitude of stars twinkling brilliantly above Velaris.

His father was always telling him that whenever Nyx missed him or his mother, that he should look up to the stars. That Nyx’s mother and father would always be there for him, no matter how far away they were, along with the High Lords and Ladies before them and their family and friends from long ago - they would all be there, among the stars, watching over him.

But that night, not even blinking his sleep-heavy eyes at the expanse of the night sky could comfort him from the nightmare from which he had just awoke.

For war was approaching, and quickly. And no matter how carefully his family tried to shield him from that fact, there were also difficult conversations had with Nyx, at a delicate 5 years old, to prepare him for the possibility of the worst.

One such recent conversation revealed the ultimate bond made between his parents. A bargain that comforted him in the fact that his parents would never again be without each other. But could also leave Nyx an orphan.

They had told him in his parent’s study, where Nyx felt more like a High Lord’s son than solely Nyx. The oversized leather chair in which he had sat made him puff out his chest, tracing the buttons beneath his fingertips as his father began speaking, first gesturing him to the constellations mapping the walls of the skies above them, and the skies above worlds that they did not even have access to.

His father had reminded him that no matter what, he would never be alone.

There were so many who loved him, who took care of him like their own son. His Uncles Cassian and Azriel, Aunts Nesta and Elain, Amren and Varian and Aunt Mor and Nuala and Cerridwen and Lucien and Gwyn and Emerie and the priestesses and the Valkyrie…

But he had only two parents. Who he could lose at once in the snap of a finger.

Each night since they had sat him down to tell him this, the same nightmare had plagued Nyx’s normally sweet dreams.

A bloody battlefield, his parents on the frontlines. Side by side. Facing a horde of beasts and monsters and somewhere in the crowd among them, a cackling evil, a nameless and deathless god whom Nyx had only gleamed whispers about while lurking around the meetings he had no business overhearing.

What he had wished his father had told him was that the stars were also protecting Rhys and Feyre.

Nyx’s covers suddenly felt restricting, the typically comforting tuck pulled up to his chin by his Aunt Elain, his caretaker for the evening while his parents were away in Day. Nyx always loved when he got to spend time with his aunt, one of the most patient figures who took turns caring for him. He loved gardening with her, learning about each unique plant that resided in the garden. And he loved baking with her, the product of which sat upon his bedside table. A plate of cookies with a small note that cheekily read, “For Emergencies…”

Judging by the moon’s position in the sky, it was still the middle of the night. But even though Nyx was far too old to be clinging to his aunt because of a nightmare, he shook with the need to be held. His small hands tremoring as he blinked away his tears ashamedly, slipping out from under the covers and padding barefoot across his room.

He passed under the posters of constellations gifted to him by his father, and the paintings that he had done with his mother.

Reminders of those who loved him filled the space, never making it seem too large or empty. A wooden sword was propped up in the corner, a rocking pegasus in the opposite one. The western windowsill held a flourishing garden, where Nyx was tending to a pot of night-blooming jasmine with his aunt’s help. A small piano resided on the wall opposite his bed, upon which rested a silver crown adorned with an obscene amount of tiny rubies. It was joined by a stuffed fox on the tiny wooden bench, which looked as if it were about to start playing with the keys, a mischevious look on its red-orange face.

Nyx turned the knob of his door, which was tied with a pale blue ribbon.

The dark hallway loomed menacingly ahead of him. His aunt’s bedroom on the opposite wing from that of his and his parent’s.

Winnowing was not allowed in the house, he had been expressly told by his parents, except in the case of an emergency or injury.

His parents had told him it was rude to winnow, and that it was especially forbidden to winnow into their bedroom, or any of his aunt’s and uncle’s bedrooms, unannounced.

But to Nyx, his small body still shaking with fear, this felt like an emergency.

So he squeezed his eyes shut, picturing his aunt’s warm bedroom with the pale yellow quilt and the vase of flowers never empty on her nightstand. The ornate wooden jewelry box filled with pretty things and a cobalt blue cloak hung on the back of the door.

And then Nyx winnowed, an easy task as he had been practicing with his parents whenever allowed.

His aunt’s back was to him as he appeared inside the dark room. Her windows also open wide, overlooking the garden she tended down below.

Elain’s form moved up and down rhythmically, fast asleep in the late hour of the night.

But as Nyx’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, he started in surprise to see that she was not alone in the large bed. A dark frame held her close to him, wings pulled in tight behind him as he slept on his side. Midnight hair swept over his face and hid it from view as Elain slept soundly next to him, her own face burrowed in his tattooed chest. No shadows to be seen - Nyx figured even they must be sleeping.

“Aunt Elain…” Nyx hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder.

Elain woke with a small gasp, turning around abruptly to see who had woken her. Nyx took a small hesitant step back, twisting his hands nervously in front of him - even though he had never once been chastised by his Aunt Elain, the gentlest of his many caretakers.

“Nyx!” She breathed, squinting through sleep-bleared eyes. “What’s wrong?”

The concern in her voice threatened to send a new wave of hot tears spilling down Nyx’s pink cheeks, which flushed in embarrassment. Future high lords were not meant to cry over a bad dream.

To distract himself, he addressed his initial source of confusion.

“Why is Uncle Azriel in your bed?”

Elain froze, kind brown eyes wide as she stared at her nephew.

Nyx looked over her shoulder to where Azriel still slept, unaware of the conversation taking place. He hadn’t seen his uncle in weeks - and often went long stretches wondering where the spymaster was.

Elain went to open her mouth, but Nyx whispered again before she had the chance to speak.

“Are you scared too?”

“Oh, baby…”

Elain’s arms reaching for him sent the first tear falling as Nyx tried to furiously blink it away. His aunt’s gaze softened as she lifted the covers, carefully moving from beneath Azriel’s heavy arm to pull Nyx closer to her, replacing the blanket back over the top of them once he was settled.

“Having Uncle Azriel here makes me feel better,” Nyx whispered quietly, as if to console his aunt as Elain wiped the stray tears from his face, brushing back his dark hair away from his eyes.

Her warm touch soothed him, her calloused hands still somehow soft.

“He makes me feel better too,” Elain admitted with a soft smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. “He’s very, very tired tonight, so we’ll have to try not to wake him.”

“But what are you afraid of, Aunt Elain?” Nyx inquired, already feeling calmer in his aunt’s reassuring presence, his uncle’s quiet breathing another balm to his worried mind.

“You helped win the last war. You’re not afraid of anything.”

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Elain murmured, not fully addressing his question. She paused, and then lifted a finger to tap twice on top of one of the stars embroidered onto Nyx’s soft sleep-shirt - where Nyx imagined his heart must be.

“To fear is to love, honey. It means you have a big heart - and you love something, or someone, very much.”

Nyx looked down, and then back up to his aunt’s loving face.

“I’m afraid of war. Of what could happen to mama and papa.”

The words hung heavy in the quiet night, and Nyx held his breath - afraid that even whispering them might speak that awful scene into existence.

Elain nodded slowly, a stray curl falling in front of her face as she leaned in to press a kiss to Nyx’s forehead, pulling him closer for a hug.

“You’re a very brave boy, Nyx. And I promise you, your mother and father will do whatever is in their power to always come home to you.” Nyx nodded, willing his aunt to be right. “They love you very much. We all do.”

And Nyx knew that to be true, without a doubt. He let that love surround him, as he nestled into the warmth of the blankets and Elain’s touch which continued combing through his hair. The rhythm of it a gentle lull back into sleep.

——————-

It must not have been too much later, as Elain was still awake when new movement roused Nyx once again. He blinked open his eyes, readjusting once more to the darkness of the room.

Nyx peered over the top of his aunt’s shoulder. His uncle had started murmuring something in his sleep, muffled by the pillow as scarred hands knotted and twisted in the casing.

“I think Uncle Azriel is having a nightmare,” Nyx said frowning, concern coloring his voice as he noted the furrowed brow on his uncle’s face.

“What does he have bad dreams about?”

Nyx could not fathom the formidable spymaster, his kind but stoic uncle, being afraid of anything.

“Yes, he does have bad dreams.”

“About what?” Nyx asked curiously. He couldn’t make out what his uncle was saying.

Elain turned to look slightly over her shoulder, at the male sleeping next to them.

“He’ll tell you himself when you’re older.”

Nyx knew not to protest this rationale by now - he knew well that when one of his parents or caretakers said he had to wait until he was older, there was no argument to be had.

Even if he wasn’t yet allowed to know what his uncle was dreaming about, Nyx didn’t want his uncle to suffer. Remembering his own nightmare just hours before.

He reached a small hand over Elain to nudge his uncle’s shoulder, but Elain was faster, capturing his wrist in her hand before he could touch Azriel.

“Gently,” Elain warned softly, but firmly. “Sometimes Uncle Azriel is confused when he wakes up, and he doesn’t remember where he is. We don’t want to startle him, especially since he will be very surprised to see you.”

Nyx nodded seriously. When it came to all matters of his uncles, he never wanted to disappoint them.

“Okay,” Elain affirmed, twisting and lifting Nyx so that he now lay in between his aunt and uncle. Still guiding his outstretched hand, Elain led Nyx to gently lay a palm on Azriel’s cheek. His skin was cool beneath Nyx’s touch, soon enveloped by the warmth of his aunt’s palm as she gently stroked both his uncle’s face and Nyx’s hand.

Nyx knew the second his uncle woke, as shadows swarmed from the corners of the room to fly about their master, tickling Nyx’s cheeks and nose in their haste to get to Azriel.

The shadows had never frightened Nyx, but seemed to trail after him once in a while like a stray puppy. Probably by the will of their commander, but Nyx appreciated their presence all the same. It was like an extension of his beloved uncle, even when he wasn’t there.

“Elain?” Azriel muttered dazedly as his brow tightened even further while he fought to open his eyes.

“We have company,” Elain murmured back carefully to his uncle, a kind of warning in her tone. Nyx waited with bated breath.

He didn’t have to wait long, as Azriel’s hazel eyes opened fully at her statement, landing quickly on Nyx who was mere inches from his face.

“Holy mother-“

Nyx couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his uncle’s surprise, having never once been able to actually startle his stealthy uncle before.

“What’s wrong?” Azriel rasped, pushing up to his elbows to look behind Elain and Nyx toward the still closed door. A few of his shadows darting out beneath it into the quiet hallway.

“Everything’s fine… Azriel.”

Elain’s voice was just as soft as it had been with Nyx.

“Nyx had a bad dream, too, and winnowed here.”

Azriel’s shadows settled closer to him once more once he had determined that neither Nyx nor Elain were in any real danger.

Nyx’s cheeks turned bright red, and he hoped the darkness might hide the fact from his uncle.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to winnow in the house.”

Azriel’s expression softened, hazel eyes lowering toward Nyx’s wide blue eyes and wobbling lip.

“It’s alright, Nyx.”

Elain chimed in gently, suggesting, “Why don’t we take you back to your room and we’ll wait until you fall back asleep?”

She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“Yes, please,” Nyx answered bashfully.

Elain led the way out of the room, shadows twisting around her ankles affectionately as Azriel followed behind them both. Nyx had never seen his uncle so casual before. He padded barefoot and bare-chested in a pair of soft sleep pants, hair mussed every which way.

It had been strange to discover him in his aunt’s bedroom, as every i interaction he had ever witnessed between the pair before had been polite, cordial, but nothing more. But clearly, they were good enough friends that Elain turned to him when she was frightened, too.

He was grateful for both of their presence that night, and the memory of his nightmare was quickly fading.

A small hand reached forward, grasping Azriel’s and then the other reaching just behind him to grab Elain’s.

Azriel gave a small smile to Elain over the top of Nyx’s head, while Elain beamed.

The walk down the long hallway no longer seemed so frightening to Nyx, as shadows twisted and danced along their path, the dark shapes leading the way back to Nyx’s room.

Once inside, and Nyx was settled back underneath his covers which once more seemed comforting rather than restrictive, Elain and Azriel sat on either side of him, Elain fussing while Azriel sat quietly, his tired eyes bouncing between the boy and his aunt.

“Uncle Azriel, will you sing?”

Nyx’s small voice was already fading as his eyes drooped with exhaustion.

Elain flashed Azriel a pretty smile, which made the corners of his uncle’s lips turn up before he started to sing quietly, a song that he had sung to Nyx since he was in swaddling clothes. It was in a language he did not recognize, but comforted him all the same. His uncle’s voice was rich and deep, like the roots of a tree digging deep into the earth.

The last thing Nyx thought about before he drifted back to sleep was that he hoped his aunt and uncle would not have any more bad dreams that night either. And that the stars would watch over them too, just as they remained bright and twinkling outside of his bedroom window.

———————

Once they were sure Nyx was resting peacefully, with no nightmares in sight, Azriel and Elain quietly took their leave back to Elain’s bedroom.

As soon as the door had clicked shut behind them, Azriel scooped up Elain and carried her down the rest of the way down the hallway, against her whispered protests.

Now that he was awake and sure that his nephew was sleeping soundly once more at the other end of the hall, Azriel had no intentions of falling asleep again anytime soon.

“We’re lucky that I needed that nap before properly greeting you,” Azriel murmured, pressing teasing kisses up and along Elain’s throat. “Otherwise we would have needed to have a much different conversation tonight.”

Elain huffed a laugh, even as she gripped his shoulder tighter, urging him on.

“I’ll figure out what to explain this as in the morning, to keep him from saying anything to Rhys or Feyre.”

“Is something distracting you from devising a plan right now?” Azriel murmured against her neck. Elain could feel the curve of his lips turn in a teasing smile.

“I’ve been waiting for this distraction to come home to me for weeks, so I would say yes…” Elain retorted, pushing him away and on his back with surprising strength and hiking her nightgown up in order to straddle him.

“Now, distraction, show me exactly how much you missed me.”

Tag List: @ultadverb @reverie-tales @123moiaussi @demarogue @gracie-rosee @impossiblescissorspeachpaper

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acotar fanfiction #pro elriel #elain x azriel #pro elain #elriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #elriel fic #baby nyx #hurt/comfort #fluff #acotar fluff #elriel fluff

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mybestfriendmademe · 4 months

Text

Title: Welcome to the Family

Summary: They've been seeing Rhys and Feyre in secret after they met them at Rita's one night. The inner circle thought it had been a one night stand. They were wrong.

Word Count: approx 1200

Warnings: None except rusty writing and no beta'ing.

A/N. This is my first Massiverse fic and my first fic in a long time, so please be gentle. I'm a slut for the men she writes. I hope I can do them justice. And I've found the wonder that is poly!feysand thanks to Tumblr (specifically @whisperingmidnights-go checkout their fic Chasing Starlight, it's unbelievable.). I thought I'd take a crack at it. I'm dipping my toes in. Hopefully the water feels fine. Likes and comments give life. Let me know if you want a part 2.

.......

They walked up to the River House taking deep breaths. Rhys thought they'd have an easier time being introduced as their partner if they were there before everyone. And they'd agreed. Unfortunately, they had quite the busy evening at work and couldn't make it until family dinner was supposed to start. They knocked on the door and it was opened by the male you knew to be Cassian. The High Lord and Lady's General of the Armies was easy to spot around town due to his loud and friendly nature.

He wore a big smile, opened his arms wide and yelled, "welcome!" They were surprised and flinched a little, however, they smiled. "Thank you, Cassian," they replied softly. They were a quiet person by nature, the yin to Cassian's yang.

Feyre's voice came from down the hall, "Cassian, please don't scare them away before they even get into the house." She reached the door, pushed Cassian-who was still grinning at them-away and hugged them. She held onto them for longer than was proper, whispering a welcome to them. She didn't care that the hug was going long. This was their coming out dinner and she'd hold onto them as long as she wanted. Cassian raised his right eyebrow and slid off to find Mor.

Once Cassian was gone, Feyre pulled away slightly and put her hands on their arms, "are you ready for this," she asked, smiling, "we know it's a big step and we know this family is crazy. You can leave now and no one would blame you."

They giggled, "I'm ready. I'm so ready. Speaking of family. Where are the boys. I miss both of them."

Feyre rolled her eyes, "Rhys was dissatisfied with the outfit I chose for Nyx for the coming out dinner so he's upstairs choosing a better one."

"He's right here," they both heard from the stairwell behind them. They both turned around to find Rhys and Nyx in matching black slacks and black button down shirts with small silver stars shining in the fae lights.

Feyre laughed. "Rhys you are so extra. When did you find that shirt for him?"

Rhys picked an invisible piece of lint off of Nyx's shirt and replied, "I had it made for a special occasion and decided tonight was it." He looked away from Feyre and said to them, "welcome to the River House precious, and to the family, officially."

They smiled at Rhys greeting them, but reached out for Nyx. "There's my boy. I missed you. Yes, I did. How are those toofers sweetie, are you feeling better?" Rhys and Feyre introduced them to Nyx before the rest of the family to make sure they and Nyx could get along. Much to the delight of Nyx and the consternation of his birth parents their bond was quick and strong. He often preferred their company on outings and was more often than not being held by them on hikes instead of one of his birth parents. Nyx had definitely adopted them as parent number three. After the initial sting of being passed over for someone else Feyre and Rhys loved seeing them holding, playing with, and talking to the baby. It was another thing that proved they belonged here with them.

"He's finally back to sleeping through the night since they popped through a couple of days ago," Feyre answered for Nyx since conversation understandable by adults was as of yet out of his grasp.

Rhys kissed them on their cheek and put his hand on the small of their back with just a bit of pressure saying, "Let's head into the sitting room before people start bringing the party out here."

They followed Feyre through the grand hall and to the large sitting room on the left. There was a fire going in the large fire place and they could see Cassian and Mor standing next to it talking quietly. Sitting on one of the sofas they could see Elain speaking with her mate, Lucien. On the sofa across from them she could see Nesta speaking with a pretty red head that they'd seen before but didn't know. Another woman was on the sofa with them. A gorgeous light brown skinned, dark haired Illyrian woman you've also never met. Azriel was standing off in a corner watching everyone, his shadows flowing around him calmly. As they entered, everyone's eyes turned to them and Rhys cleared his throat.

"Everyone, you know of our friend here. You may have seen us dancing with them at Rita's about a year ago. Or you may be a patron of their shop in the Rainbow. Either way, Feyre and I wanted to introduce you, officially, to our partner."

Cassian smirked and held his hand out to Mor who swatted it away annoyed she'd lost the bet. Elain and Nesta's jaws dropped. Lucien and the two unknown women smiled. Azriel looked disappointed. They hoped it was just in himself since the trio had successfully hidden their relationship from Az and the shadows for a year. After the initial reaction Mor, Cassian, and Lucien all started making their way toward them.

Mor smiled at them and hugged them. "Welcome to the family."

Cassian hugged them so hard they came off the ground a bit. Rhys growled when the hug lasted too long for his liking. Cassian set them down and they giggled, happy for such a warm welcome. "Thanks for making me some money, and welcome to the family."

Lucien held his hand out, "I'm Lucien Vanserra. Please come to me any time you need to vent about any of the bat boys or Archeron girls." You heard a chorus of "hey's," from around the room and thanked Lucien as you giggled.

You greeted the room, "I do know most of you either through my shop, or through the many stories I've heard from these two over the last year. I honestly feel like I know most of you much more than you know me and I'm just starting to realize how weird that is." Everyone laughed and you turned to Nesta who was just standing.

"Welcome to the family, and may I introduce my closest friends Gwyneth and Emerie." The red head and the brunette stood as well and shook your hand. Azriel finally left the corner taking Gwyneth's hand.

"I'm Azriel, Gwyn's mate and husband." You were amazed at how quiet and humble he seemed, completely leaving out the part about him being the spymaster of the Night Court. To them it seemed the only part that mattered was his connection to Gwyn.

Mor hugged Emerie from behind and said in a threatening tone, "this is mine." Emerie swatted her hand and smiled while rolling her eyes.

"Noted," they said, "I feel as if I have my hands full already, though, and won't be tempted elsewhere."

Rhys started walking out of the sitting room, "let's head to the dining room everyone. I'm sure we're all ready to eat."

Feyre put her arm through theirs as they followed the group out. They felt welcomed thoroughly and quite pleased about how that went. They took Nyx back and snuggled into his neck to make him giggle. It was their favorite sound. Well, it was their favorite sound outside of the bedroom. As they sat at the large dining table next to both of her partners and Rhys snapped his finger to bring out the food and wine, they smiled to themselves content to be a part of this family officially.

#poly!feysand x reader #reader fic #fluff #acotar fanfiction #feyre archeron #rhysand #nyx acotar

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divinemare · 2 months

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Nyx, on the phone: Remember how I said Blaze and I were going to have a calm night out for once?

Demetria (OC): Yes.

Nyx: Well, we’re in jail.

Demetria: *hangs up*

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Note

Can I request something where Azriel has to pick up Nyx from school one day and thinks his teacher is cute & is very flirty with her?

Yes! Love this idea so much!

When I Kissed The Teacher

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Feyre loves Nyx's teacher but loves playing matchmaker even more. After sending Azriel to collect Nyx from school one day after feigning a studio related emergency, she's very happy to learn that Azriel's affections are completely in the palm of your hand.

Warnings - none really, just cuteness all round

Feyre had always been worried about sending Nyx off to school, even though she believed Rhys when he told her that the schools of Velaris were the best in Prythian, she couldn't help but feel anxious that he wouldn't thrive.

Then she met you, and all of her worries faded away.

You were everything Feyre wanted in a teacher for her child, it had taken a lot of weight throwing to get him into your class, it was full to the brim of children from higher born families, only wanting the best for their offspring. Feyre wasn't even surprised.

It was clear how much you cared about your children, in nurturing them into intelligently creative creatures. Other teachers focused solely on the academics, but you had a passion for the arts, you said creativity helped children to find their passions and grow into more compassionate and joyful souls.

Nyx had run into her arms when she had come to collect him that first day, babbling on about what a wonderful time he had with you. Miss Y/L/N. Feyre had never seen such wonderment in his eyes when he told her in that broken infant language how great you were. Everyone's worries about Nyx becoming a shell had vanished.

The little thing had returned home with paintings, reciting poetry from your favourite passages; he had the desire to read, making different voices for the different characters like he had learned from you. Nyx was well and truly flourishing.

Feyre had insisted that you walk home with them one afternoon, since you only lived five minutes from the River House and it was on your route home anyway. From that walk, Feyre had learned much about you, that you were from Spring but left after being disowned by your family for wanting more from life than being married away to be used as a breeding tool. After that you had travelled the continent, making many friends along the way and opening your mind to the world before settling in Hewn City, only to be brought to Velaris on Rhys' orders because he had heard of your talents and passion and wanted it taking root in the children of his city.

The more you spoke, rambling on about art and books and theatre, did Feyre come to the realisation that a certain someone would be absolutely besotted with you. When you had hugged Nyx goodbye, ruffling his hair and telling him you'd see him in the morning, did Feyre begin to hatch her plan.

Azriel wasn't one for sunshine and rainbows, but even he had to admit that Nyx's and Feyre's gushings about you had him intrigued, even Rhys had commented on how sweet you were, seemingly very fond of how Nyx was excelling under your wing.

"Az, would you mind grabbing Nyx today? I have to head to the studio, delivery emergency," Feyre floated past him toward the door, a thin cloak fitted around her shoulders to protect her from the afternoon summer breeze that drifted along the Sidra.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," he waved Feyre from the house as she dashed down the path shouting over her shoulder what time to be at the school for.

The sun was beginning to dip in the sky but warmth still flew through Velaris, Azriel walked along the winding paths and up the hill to the school, the skittering sound of children's laughter filling his ears as he approached. Parents parted as he walked down the cobbled stone path, not wanting to graze against his wings with slight unease in their eyes. Azriel was used to it by now, the looks of disapproval, the slight fear in the people he passed.

The bell rang and birds shot to perch on the branches of the trees that surrounded the plush gardens teeming with bright flowers and wildlife. Children began to file out from the open door, grabbing their bags and running to their parents with wide smiles, excited to tell them what you had taught them that day.

Azriel spied the inside wall littered will paintings and cards, all addressed to you, as well as a wooden table filled with the gifts the children had no doubt made their parents purchase for you.

Then he saw you, and the Shadowsinger audibly gasped. There you were, dressed in a loose white blouse with stringed corset, an earthy brown skirt that fell to the floor covered in colourful handprints that reached your thighs, your hair was unbound and baby hairs whispered along the sides of your face.

You were sunshine. You were radiant.

Nyx's hand was curled in your own as you led him out of the classroom and Azriel could have sworn he'd never seen a brighter look on anyone's face as the little man searched the crowd, "Uncle, Az!"

Your gaze had also fallen on him and you drank in his smile as Nyx left your grip and hurtled to the Shadowsinger, his grin was large, showing off all of his teeth as he bent down and wrapped Nyx in his toned arms, laughing loudly and asking about his day before standing up.

"I don't think we've ever formally met," you held your free hand out, your other carrying Nyx's bag, "I'm Y/N, well, Miss Y/L/N."

You were as soft as summer rain, adoration in your orbs, and you radiated purity and grace. Azriel glanced at your outstretched hand, sliding his own into it and feeling a force of gravity will him closer to you, "So you're the one that has Nyx ready for school at the crack of dawn," he felt relief when you didn't recoil at his hand in yours, the hands that usually made people grimace, "Azriel," you giggled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your pointed ear.

High Fae.

"Guilty as charged," your voice was like butter, smooth and rich, the perfect balance of femineity.

"Can't say I blame him," he smirked at the heat that rose to his cheeks, at the sheepish smile that tugged at your lips.

"That's very nice of you to say," one of your students walked past you, waving goodbye, and Azriel watched you bend down and fix her jacket to her body, telling her to have a lovely weekend in the sun, "Nyx has had a lovely day today. He just keeps on flourishing, it's remarkable," you had told him once you had risen again.

"I'm sure anyone could flourish with you around. Must be the Y/N effect," he cocked his head to the side at your giggle, just happy to be able to examine the woman who had Nyx all excited every morning. Feyre and Rhys were right, you were remarkable. Like a rainbow rippling in a storm.

"Must be it," the birds jumped from branch to branch around you, like they wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as possible, flitting to the bird houses you had erected by the pond of ducks and in the trees.

"Would you like to walk home with us? Feyre mentioned that you didn't live too far from the house?"

Your mouth fell into the perfect o shape, "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose-"

"You're not," Azriel smiled, looking down at Nyx, shaking his little hand and asking, "Is she, Nyx? Would you like Miss Y/L/N to walk home with us?"

"Yes!" Nyx shouted and you laughed, a laugh that made the edges of your eyes crinkle, you disappeared into the building, returning a few moments later with you satchel, locking the door and taking Nyx's free hand in your own after handing his bag to Azriel.

Azriel was positive that he'd never seen Nyx shine so brightly.

The walk home was full of light chatter, you made Azriel laugh more times than you could count, and Nyx was pointing out random things along the way, looking up at you for approval and tapping his feet on the ground when you nodded and smiled.

From the house, Feyre watched through the curtains as Nyx ran up the path, and kept watching as Azriel lingered behind, she wished she could hear what he was saying to you. But as you smiled, and blushed, and then nodded at the Shadowsinger who was kicking his feet like a schoolboy, she knew it was going well.

Strong arms wrapped around her midsection and her back hit a hard chest, his deep chuckle vibrated through him and his warm breath fanned against her ear, "Playing matchmaker again, darling?"

Feyre hummed with a gentle smile, accepting the peppering kisses over her shoulder as she watched you walk away, looking back at Azriel and waving before turning the corner, "I think this is my best one yet," she told Rhys, noticing the pursed smile on Azriel's lips and the faint pink tinge to his complexion as he followed Nyx up the path.

"I'm inclined to agree."

SO CUTE!

Thank you for the request! x

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 1 year

Text

chapter vi – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,500+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

Eris did as he promised to the High Lady and Lord of Night Court: he found their best booze and chugged two glasses before pouring a third and forcing himself to nurse is.

There was a fire already crackling when he entered. Night Court had a subtle chill not so different than Autumn Court. Though Eris wish he had a sanctuary similar to Feyre and Rhysand that could give him such comforts.

What the Cauldron are you doing here? Eris asked himself.

He should be back in Autumn Court by now. This was not part of the plan. He was meant to check on Y/N, instill fear into the hearts of Rhysand and his court, and never to appear again.

But now he planned on having dinner with his mate? His mate who had no idea that they were mates.

Someone finally walked into the drawing room.

Eris recognized her as the middle Archeron sister. His youngest brother’s mate.

Her eyes grew wide at his presence.

But then she blinked and seemed to relax quite a bit. “Oh, I thought you were your brother.”

Eris smoothly took another sip of his drink before he said, “I take that as a great offense. I am far more handsome than him.”

Elain managed to force a small smile. But Eris saw how much effort it took her, more than anything.

“I-I did not realize you were dining with us,” she muttered awkwardly.

Clearly his presence made her uncomfortable, whether he was Lucien or not.

“I was forced,” Eris answered bluntly.

A toddler came crawling after Elain, cooing and trying to climb up his aunt’s legs.

Elain smiled – genuine, this time – and leaned down to pick up Nyx.

“So this is the little prince…” Eris finally spoke, observing the toddler.

“He’s certainly treated like one by all his aunts and uncles,” Feyre joked, finally entering the drawing room with Rhysand right behind her.

She immediately went for her son, who beamed at the sight of his mother.

Eris had never thought much about children. Being the eldest of seven meant he was often asked to take care of his brothers growing up. The last time he held a baby was when Lucien had been one.

He figured he’d have children when a marriage was forced upon him by his father for political reasons.

But with Y/N…Eris doesn’t know if he could go through with such a union now. Even though there was voice in his mind screaming that it would put a much needed chasm between the two of them if he did. Distance from him is what Y/N needed most of all. And an arranged marriage with some courtier or another would do just that.

There was a ruckus coming from the front entrance.

Illyrians, Eris thought. So loud and obnoxious.

The rest of Rhys’ inner circle came waltzing into the drawing room: Cassian with his mate Nesta, then Amren, Azriel, Mor. But it was Y/N who walked in last.

And the sight before Eris made him lose his breath.

Y/N wore a dress of Night Court fashion: a grayish plum color that curved into the shape of her body so naturally. While there was hardly any skin showing, it made Eris’ heart race just a little bit faster.

Her face was painted with rather dramatic makeup. Though it suited her and she looked beautiful, Eris somehow knew that Y/N must not involve herself in such glamour in her daily life.

It also completely hid the bruises that Eris had spotted earlier.

“Y/N, you are allowed to tell Mor no,” Feyre giggled at the sight Y/N all dressed up.

Y/N shrugged politely and ducked her head as she said, “It seems to bring her so much joy. I don’t have it in me to stop her.”

But Mor wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. Because as soon as her eyes had been locked on Eris, she gave him a glare that Eris felt should’ve killed him.

“What is he doing here?” Mor snapped.

Eris had been too busy getting lost in Y/N to even notice that he was someone’s prey.

Rhysand stepped forward. “He is our guest tonight, Mor.”

Y/N watched everyone’s reaction’s to Eris’ presence carefully, and she was smart enough to put together that Eris was no friend to the inner circle.

Then she looked at Rhysand, staring intensely at More, who still glared at Eris. She knew the High Lord must be speaking to her through their minds.

“I’m famished!” Cassian groaned. “Let us eat already.”

And the tension was broken – for now.

Rhysand and Feyre guided them to a formal dining room with a long table. However, at the head on one side were two chairs. So the High Lord and Lady could sit next to each other instead of being separated by a massive table.

Feyre kept Nyx in her lap, seeing no issue with feeding him while she also fed herself and entertained their friends and guest.

Nesta sat on Feyre's left side, Cassian sat next to her, and then Y/N squeezed in between Cassian and Mor. Eris could tell it was purposeful. As if Mor and Cassian were protecting the human girl by sitting on either side of him.

Eris managed to grab the seat on the other side of the table that was directly across from Y/N. If he was going through with this terrible dinner, he was at least going to get a good view of his mate.

Amren sat on his other side, at the corner of the table. Whether it was to keep an eye on him or because she didn’t care to sit beside him at all, he didn’t know. Azriel sat to Eris’ left and then Elaine was between the Shadowsinger and Rhysand.

Feyre noticed the unusual quietness.

Their dinners tended to be chaotic, but full of love and camaraderie.

The tension of Eris’ presence was impossible to ignore.

“Wine,” Feyre blurted out. And everyone’s glasses filled with it.

The High Lady didn’t hesitate to toss the entire glass back. And her mate watched in amusement.

“Y/N,” Feyre called to her politely. “Have you been properly introduced to our guest?”

“No,” Y/N answered bluntly. “But I know who he is.” Then she muttered under her breath as if she were talking to herself.

Eris watched her closely, yet still somewhat discreetly.

She then eyed him right back, as if silently telling him, ‘And I can see enough to know I shouldn’t like you…or trust you.’

“Let us toast,” Rhysand stood.

Feyre joined him, Nyx balancing on her hip and her other arm holding out her wine.

“To Y/N,” Rhys started. “Who risked her life to protect and save my son.”

Cassian pounded his fist on the table, “Hear! Hear!”

Mor bumped Y/N’s shoulder playfully, yet proudly.

Eris looked around to see that everyone was beaming at Y/N, who shrunk at the attention, but still slightly lifted her glass off the table.

“We can never repay such a debt,” Rhys added ever so seriously.

“But he will surely try,” Feyre added with a smile, lightening the mood a bit.

“I could smell the flower shop you put in her room from down the hall,” Nesta commented, pretending to act as if it had been an inconvenience.

Y/N smiled at Nesta, almost gratefully.

As soon as the toast was over, food appeared on their plates with a snap of Rhysand’s fingers.

Eris noticed that Y/N was looking around, observing everyone. It was as if she needed to make sure she was matching the groups etiquette, how formal or informal they ate and talked. He had already assumed Y/N had not been from a wealthy mortal family. But her watchfulness only proved it.

“We haven’t poisoned your food,” Cassian teased Eris when he noticed the male hadn’t started eating.

“Maybe we should have,” Mor snips before taking a bite and added a glare to Eris.

“I neither begged nor requested this invitation. Your qualm is not with me,” Eris cooly answered.

“Did you have fun in the stables today, Y/N?” Rhys asked, taking on the role to defuse any sort of tension aimed at Eris.

Y/N nodded shyly. “I didn’t expect you to have horses…since all of you use…different forms of travel.”

“Do you like horses?”

Eris shocked himself, not even realizing the question had come from him until he saw Y/N’s eyes widen in surprise.

Everyone else had paused for a moment to process his boldness as well.

Y/N lowered her gaze to her plate as she nodded and then muttered lowly, “I don’t believe there’s any animal that I don’t love…”

An image of Y/N meeting Eris’ smoke hounds flashed into his mind.

But Mor wasn’t finished yet. “Have you killed that demon of a father yet, Eris?”

Eris didn’t look up from his plate, but his grip on his silverware tightened so hard that he was convinced he was about to break it in half with just his thumb.

So much scheming and secrecy lingered around Eris’ plans to rule Autumn Court, that to have someone so blatantly speak ill of his father and expose his plans was infuriating.

He glanced to his left to see that Azriel gripped a knife in his hand and his shadows were humming with anticipation. The Shadowsinger was fulling expecting Eris to fling himself across the table and try to strangle Morrigan.

“Mor…” Feyre warned, but she mostly sounded disappointed.

“You wish to kill your father?” Y/N asked ever so quietly, eyes narrowed with suspicion and distrust.

Eris knew what Mor was doing: ruining his image befor he ever got to even have a conversation with Y/N.

In a way, he respected her strategy for trying to protect Y/N.

But Eris couldn’t ignore Y/N when she spoke so directly to him.

“My father is unfit to rule,” was all he told her.

But the answer made Y/N’s face scrunch even further in thought.

Mor continued with, “What’s stopping you?”

Eris ground his teeth before snapping, “I can only assume it is the same thing that’s stopping you from killing your own father, Morrigan.”

Mor shot to her feet, fist clenched at her side. “I’ve lost my appetite suddenly.”

A soft wind brushed through the room.

“It was not him that tortured you,” Y/N mumbled, eyes staring off into the distance.

But it was enough to stop Mor in her tracks.

“He brought you to the border and sent word that you needed saving,” Y/N added darkly.

Then she blinked, as if bringing herself out of a daze.

Mor took a deep breath as she stared at the back of Y/N’s head. But then still continued her exit, slamming the door of the dining room behind her.

Eris’ gaze shot to the High Lord and Lady. “What tales have you been telling her?”

“Y/N has a knack for knowing things that have never been told to her,” Rhysand tried to speak for her, making it seem nonchalant with a wave of his hand.

Feyre managed to shift the conversation to lighter topics. And the Inner Circle was set on helping her as much as they could.

Azriel seemed to be the most annoyed with Eris' attendance. But his stoic silence was the only outward rebellion to their guest.

Cassian joked with both Feyre and Y/N. Nesta pretended to be annoyed, but would give her mate looks of love when she thought no one was watching.

Y/N seemed to lighten as the conversation continued. She wouldn’t add anything, but answered pleasantly when anyone spoke to her.

But every so often, her eyes would subtly move to Eris as if he were a puzzle she were trying to figure out.

Eris mostly ignored the conversations around them. But he held onto every single word Y/N spoke and intended to memorize them within his heart.

When they were all finished eating, Feyre said something about going back into the drawing room for drinks and possibly dessert.

But Eris noticed a door leading into their back garden that eventually led to a river.

Without saying anything, Eris walked out of the home. The fresh air did him wonders. Even with so many other people and a steaming supper, Y/N’s scent had infiltrated his senses.

And his body was screaming at him to just speak to her, to get her alone.

The cold air woke him from his trance.

He leaned his head back and looked up at the sky.

It must be the magic of the Night Court that made the stars and moon seem even more beautiful here. Though Eris wondered when the last time he even looked at the sky in Autumn.

“Are you trying to flee?” A deep voice said behind him.

Eris slightly turned to face the Illyrian General.

It sometimes seemed like Cassian hated him the least. But perhaps Eris was confusing his smugness of winning Nesta as a lack of hatred towards him.

“Never. Though I should be leaving soon,” Eris clipped back.

Cassian still lingered though.

And Eris shifted his weight. His eyes were distant, as if he seemed to be mulling something over in his head.

“Do you wish to ask me something?” Cassian asked.

But he surprised Eris by appearing rather serious, no teasing in his tone.

Eris cleared his throat. “Before your mate was turned fae, did you know?”

Cassian nodded his head slowly. “I had an…inkling.”

Eris only gave a slight nod.

“It is stronger for you?” Cassian asked in return.

Eris didn’t want to share something so intimate with anyone, let alone someone he still considered an enemy. But this Illyrian was the only one who seemed to relate to the turmoil he was going through. To know your mate is mortal... it was a terrifying realization.

“As soon as she–“ Eris cleared his throat. “As soon as she looked me in the eye, the bond snapped into place.”

“Perhaps it’s because she needed saving,” Cassian pondered. “The Cauldron has strange ways of connecting us.”

Then the Illyrian turned and looked at the window of the drawing room. Y/N was on her knees, controlling little gusts that lifted Nyx a foot off the ground with his baby wings. Nesta smiled as Nyx fell into fit of giggles when he slowly lowered to the ground.

Eris inhaled sharply. “She’s…”

“A witch, yes.” Cassian finished for him.

Eris seemed to process this. The eerie knowledge she had on everyone, the dazed look she sometimes got, the muttering to herself, the reason she was able to protect the heir of Night Court against an infantry of fae.

Eris had spent so little time with her, yet somehow he'd sensed from the moment he met Y/N that there was something more to her.

“That is how she saved the boy,” he breathed.

Cassian nodded. “Rhys didn’t tell you?”

Eris’ expression darkened. “No, he failed to share that particular detail.”

“Y/n says people have always just believe she is crazy,” Cassian commented darkly.

Was that a protective tone in the Illyrian's voice?

“The wind,” Eris commented. “It tells her things.”

Cassian nodded again. “For the most part, she keeps it to herself. Y/N’s more than aware that many only know witches as evil beings, drinking the blood of innocents and thirsting for more power than they should ever possess.”

But both males knew there was nothing evil about Y/N.

Eris still watched Y/N through the windows. She now held little Nyx in her lap while softly talking to both Nesta and Elain. Perhaps she liked talking to the them because she could sense that they were once mortal like her.

As if feeling someone watching her, Y/N’s eyes moved to meet Eris’ through the window. They locked gazes only for a second or two. But to him, it felt like an hour.

“I should be going,” Eris declared, forcing himself to break eye contact and fully turn to face Cassian.

Then he was marching back into the house, but made sure not to look at Y/N – or anyone else in the room, for that matter. He didn’t pause in the room, not wanting to ruin the joy and comfort that had built in his absence.

On his way to the front door, Eris lowered his mental shields for the first time in the presence of Rhysand and Feyre.

Thank you for your hospitality, but I must return to Autumn Court, Eris mentally messaged the High Lord and Lady.

You are welcome to visit her whenever you wish, Feyre answered.

But Eris ignored her comment, and put his shield back up before they could say anything more on the matter of Y/N.

“Please, wait.” A gentle voice begged, just as Eris reached the front door and had already opened it halfway.

A chill went up his spine. He took a shallow breath, breathing in her scent now that it was not mixed with anything else.

Eris slowly turned to find Y/N watching him hesitantly.

This was only the second time they had ever been alone.

His back straightened and his face went even colder, even more cryptic.

“S-Sorry,” Y/N stuttered out. “I…I just wanted to know…”

She was interrupted by a wind that rushed from outside, brushing through Eris and Y/N.

It suddenly slammed the door shut that Eris had held half open.

“Shhh!” Y/N muttered, clearly not speaking to him.

Eris could easily see how mortals would call her crazy and think nothing more of it. But faes who have lived for hundreds of years could easily see that there was something more to the young woman.

He tilted his head slightly. “Dare I ask what your little friend tells you now?”

His voice almost sounded bored and disinterested. But his heart raced faster, fearing that perhaps the wind knew what Y/N was to him.

Y/N’s eyes widened at his clear awareness of her gift. “T-They just say you should stay. But…but they won’t tell me why.”

“I must be going,” Eris told her harshly. “Was there something you needed?”

She nodded, but seemed less confident now with his performative coldness and annoyance.

“Why…umm…why did you save me?” She sighed.

Eris’ jaw clenched and he crossed his arms. “You would have died in that forest.”

Y/N blinked at his blunt response.

“And you could have just left me there,” she challenged.

Eris looked around at the house they stood in. The home of the High Lord and Lady of a court that was not his own.

“Do you have family? People in the mortal lands?” He asked, making sure to keep out any sympathy or affection in his voice. “You do not have to stay here.”

But Y/N shook her head. “My cov–” She stopped herself. “My family is dead. I’ve been on my own for years.”

“Your coven,” Eris said slowly, proving that he caught her mistake.

She glared at him. “We are not what you think.”

He ignored her reply. “What happened to them?”

“They were killed by the nearby village.”

“By humans?” Eris persisted.

“We could never settle in one place for long. People always assumed we brought some sort of evil with us. But all we ever wanted was to be left alone.” She shook her head as her eyes glazed over with the memory. “There was a plague going through the mortal realm. We had the pow–“ She stopped herself again, and cleared her throat. “We had the means to cure those suffering. But the village…they thought we had brought the illness.” Y/N’s voice shook as she continued, “The night we were brewing the medicine to save them was the night they chose to come and slaughter us.”

Eris felt his heart drop at his mate’s story.

A silent tension filled the room.

“I-I don’t know why I just told you all that,” Y/N mumbled, clearly annoyed with herself for oversharing with a stranger.

“Yet, you survived,” Eris pointed out, managing to still sound unmoved by her story.

Y/N’s eyes stared at the floor as she whispered, “I shouldn’t have.”

All of Eris was screaming at him to go to his mate, to comfort her, to pull her into his arms. He wished to tell her that nothing like that would ever happen to her again, that he would keep her safe.

But he couldn’t even keep her safe from his father, from his court.

So, instead of doing or saying the things his heart begged for, he cleared his throat roughly and said, “I must being going.”

And he walked down the path, only able to winnow when he finally left the protection wards of the River House.

He didn’t turn back to give her a final look.

Eris heard Y/N’s story... and gave her nothing.

–––––

Let me know if you liked this! I love hearing from readers 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Still think only like 5 people are reading this silly fic. lol

Feel free to send me questions in an ask. Those always making me happy.

chapter vii

#eris vanserra #gust & flame #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra reader insert #night court #autumn court #acotar #a court of thorns & roses #inner circle #cassian acotar #feyre archeron #nyx acotar #rhysand

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