#* ⟢ ━━ azriel. ( answered )

[yearning-for-autumn]

So, here is my humble request 👀:

Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.

When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.

Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.

So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.

I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻

Would That I -- Part 1

A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!

Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health

Word Count: 3,638

Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.

Part 2 Part 3

Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.

“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.

“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”

Rhysand cleared his throat.

“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.

“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”

His brow furrowed.

“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.

“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.

You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.

You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.

---

In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.

You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.

He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.

“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.

“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.

---

As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.

Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.

He loosed a breath.

“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.

“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Is Cass--?”

“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.

“Ok.”

Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.

“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”

You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.

“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”

You scoff.

“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”

Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.

“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”

Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.

“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.

Rhysand sighed.

“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”

---

It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.

You sat up worried.

“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”

“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”

You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.

“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.

You snuggled up to your eldest brother.

“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”

Azriel tucked you under his arm.

“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.

---

Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.

He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.

Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.

“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.

“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”

Eris rolled his eyes.

“Just show me your plans, Ash.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.

“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.

In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.

He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.

It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.

When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.

Asher sighed,

“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.

“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.

“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”

“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.

“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”

“She is my mate.” Eris growled.

“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.

“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.

“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”

Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.

He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.

---

The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.

Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.

Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.

Disgust.

What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.

Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.

Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.

Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.

“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”

You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.

“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”

You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.

“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.

A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.

Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.

Would that you could be half as lucky.

Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.

---

There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.

“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.

“Eris will be there.” You said.

“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.

“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”

And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.

Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.

In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.

Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—

“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the magic word.”

“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.

A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...

[redbleedingrose]

Hey it’s the anon that had the nightmares. Headcanons about dealing with nightmares would be absolutely amazing if you’re up for it, thank you so much. You truly have no idea how much you’ve helped me 🥺

Of course dear!!! Here you go!!! (sorry this took so long sweetheart)

Edit: This ask has been sitting in my drafts for months and I am so sorry I didn't post it until now. Writers block and general insecurity does crazy things to me.

How the Bat Boys would help you with your nightmares!

Rhysand

Okay, the thing about Rhys is that I think he remains fully aware of your presence at all times, even in his sleep. He can feel you next to him, your body pressed against his, your heart beat thumping at his side, the weight of your head on his shoulder, he can feel it.

He also, is very in tune with your emotional state. Maybe it has to due with your mating bond, but tbh, I think his love for you has brought him a number of powers that allows for the deepest sort of connection to you. He can feel the emotions that you feel. It can go as far as Rhys feeling the roof of his mouth ache when you burn your mouth from drinking too hot tea, it can go as far as him feeling like someone has poked him hard when he is entirely alone in his office (when it is Cass who is poking at you, whining at you to share your summer imported mandarain oranges with him) and if Rhys really sits on it, he can also feel your mixed emotions of amusement and teasing towards Cass in that moment.

So I think that if you were having a nightmare, Rhysand would know. He would feel your heart racing from fear, it would make his own stutter. He would feel the panic pumping through your veins, and it would nearly send him into a frenzy.

Rhys would be awake, shushing your tired whines, and peppering the softest kisses all over your face to slowly ease your mind. The high lord of night would absolutely slip into your mind like butter, easing all the fired up neurons that have built up from your nightmare, slowly detangling the knots of emotion twisted inside your mind without waking you. He would pull you impossibly close, his heart beating against yours, his hands tangled in your hair, rubbing at your scalp, and naturally, you tuck your forehead into his neck, a quiet sigh leaving your once quivering lips.

Your nightmare would have dissolved without your knowledge, and you would be lulled into a dreamless sleep with your mate holding you close, his warm cheek resting on your head with one hand resting at the back of your neck and the other hand stroking up your spine, protecting you from anything and everything, even your own mind. You would wake up without any memories of the nightmare, and if I am being honest, Rhysand wouldn't want to remind you of it either, so he keeps this part of his duty towards you to himself.

Cassian

I am not gonna lie, this male is a heavy sleeper. He is dead to the world once his head hits the pillow. And he freaking snores too. Actually, he is famous for how loud he snores. Cassian can be heard snoring from across the house of wind. And initially, it was really hard for you to fall asleep to. In fact, you would force Cass to stay awake until you fell asleep because you just could not with his snoring.

And now?? Now this fucking male has you unable to fall asleep without his snoring. You need his heated, and I mean this male is a literal furnace, nearly naked body beneath you, with his burly arms wrapped tight around your waist, with your head pressed against his male tits, your legs tangled with his, in order to fall asleep. The snoring has become its own sort of white noise to you, and without it?? You will stay up the entire night and be extremely grumpy the next morning, often resulting in the back of Rhysand's head getting smacked for his taunting. (if Cass is out on a mission for longer than a day or two, Rhys actively avoids you for fear that you will end up choking him for sending his general away. Not that that has ever happened before.... nope... never................)

So. On good nights, you are usually snoozing it away with your hunk of a male, and you end up waking up to a lovely "surprise" poking at your tummy and a male who is too turned on by you to be ashamed in the slightest.

On bad nights though, on nights where you worry about Cassian, on nights where all of your fear of losing your loving mate culminates into nightmares, don't ever doubt that Cass wouldn't be there for you. Cassian is the general of the night court of a reason. He, like Rhys and Az, has been trained, for centuries, to be aware of his surroundings, even in his sleep. So while he might sleep heavy, his body are attuned to taking note of his environment, and that means, his body and his bond is focused on you throughout the night.

So he does wake up to you tensing, to your quickened breathing, to your restlessness, immediately too. His eyes would snap open, with his arm around your waist firm and tight, his other automatically reaching for the dagger he has hidden under his pillow, looking out for any signs of immediate danger to you. Not to himself. To you. His instinct does not edge towards self preservation. It hasn't since he met you. His instinct is to protect you at all costs.

Once he realizes that there isn't any physical threat that is causing your distress, his attention goes back to you, an ache burrowing itself in his chest as he notices your hand is clenching into a fist against him, as he notices your face is screwing up in fear, as he notices your body shaking. His mouth drys at the sight of you looking so scared, and he wouldn't be able to help himself.

Cass would murmur quiet reassurances, rubbing at the space between your shoulder blades and planting kisses onto your furrowed brows, "wake up sweetheart, s'jus a nightmare" and "shhh, I got you love, I'm here" and "s'okay baby, you're fine" and "c'mon, that's it, that's my girl, wake up f'me beauty"

When you wake with a start, he hushes your cries and pulls you in even closer. He would turn you both onto your sides, your front melding against his with his arm tucked under your head and around your hip with his leathery paper thin wings shield you both from the outside world. It's this warm cocoon that he forms around you where you spend the rest of the night and into the early morning.

At first, you would apologize for waking him up so early, knowing that he has training in the morning with Az and the others, but he dismisses that immediately, stressing to you that his only concern, at this time and forever, is you. He would stay awake with you, attentively listening to your ramblings about your nightmare, playing with the ends of your hair while you tell him all your secret fears. And he would kiss you and promise to protect you no matter what, and he would promise to keep you safe. Eventually, you would end up falling asleep, the closeness of your mate, his gentle breathing, and the warmth he brings relaxing you enough to a dreamless rest. And Cass, the ever diligent and loving male, would stay awake for the rest of the morning, skipping out on training to watch over the love of his life and make sure that you don't have any other nightmares.

In the morning, after you wake up feeling rested, Cass would finally let you go, a soft kiss to your lips and a wink in goodbye, only to come back within ten minutes, bringing you some warm, fresh chai that he made for you with some oatmeal that you both share in bed together. You spend the rest of the day cuddled up with your mate with slow and sweet love making, hushed oaths to each other to protect one another, and long naps in between.

Azriel

Azriel is a completely attuned to you. And so are his shadows. He has one that you have noticed that constantly follows you around, that learns every single thing about you to report back to its master. And then there are a couple that you haven't noticed. Ones that stay hidden in the darkness with full intent to take care of anything that puts you in harms way. And it stays that way always, regardless of the timing.

So at night, when your heart rate jumps, your blood pumping through your veins, your eyes furrowing shut too tightly, the slightest bit of sweat breaking out on your skin, they are the first to notice. And they are the quick to notify their master about it, hurridely slithering to his ears to wake Az so he can help you.

Azriel would initially try to soothe you in your sleep, his heart aching at the thought of you being afraid of something he can't control. A quick command to his shadows has the curtains to your balcony eased apart, the light from the moon and stars beaming in through the large glass doors. His scarred hands would stroke at your cheeks ever so gently, your mating bond humming at the barely there touch. Az wouldn't hesitate to place his lips in the space between your brows, moving from one soft edge of your face to the next with small pepperings of kisses.

He would thumb at your edge of your jaw, the calloused tip of his finger reminding you in your sleep that he is there. That he didn't leave sometime in the night. That he would never leave. That he would always be there to protect you. To care for you. To love you. He knows that you have your own traumas that you deal with, and he wants you to feel in control of your problems. Nightmares... they make you feel out of control. And he is there to give the power right back to you.

Most nights, Azriel's simple touch is enough to soothe you. I'm ngl, it does stroke his pride a little (a lot) that he is able to calm his mate with just the touch of his hands. With something that he used to keep hidden behind his back when he talked to others, something that he would cover up from the shame of his past, something that he feared would one day lead to a disgusted look on your face. And on those nights that his touch is enough, once you are settled, he pulls you closer to him, tucking his arm around your waist and wrapping one of his large wings around both of your figures, burying his face into your neck so he can fall back asleep to the feel of your pulse against his skin.

On the nights where the nightmares are just too much, where you are too deep in the dream that you can't feel anything but the fear, Azriel will wake you. He loathes the thought of disturbing your sleep, he hates that you will most likely not feel rested in the morning, but his heart shatters into the tinest pieces when he can feel the end of your mating bond crying out for him in your sleep. So he lays a firm hand on your forehead, his other hand rubbing at your shoulder, tenderly shaking you awake: "wake up my love, it's alright," and "you're fine my sweet girl, I'm here," and "I promise I'll always be here my dove, now be a good girl for me an wake up"

He would hush you as you startle awake, the jolt of your body causing him to wrap his arms tightly around you with mumbled, "that's it, there's my starshine" and "s'okay moon, it was just a bad dream" and after a good long while of him calming you down, he would whisper into your hair with a final kiss to the top of your head, "c'mon love, let's get you something to drink."

Azriel wouldn't let you lift a finger or a toe for that matter. Male would take your comforter and wrap you up like a burrito and then carry you all the way down to the kitchen where he settles you onto the counter, sending you the most beautiful, tired smile while he makes you some chamomile tea. He would be slow in each of his steps, the small smile on his pretty lips never leaving his face as he feels your gaze watching his every movement. He adores doing things like this for you. He craves doting on you. He thinks you are his treasure. A gift from the mother herself. And he plans to make sure you feel that way, all the time, forever, until you and him only exist as stars in the night sky.

A/N: 😫🫠🥲 Sorry this was a bit repetitive, but I hope you liked it ❤️❤️❤️

[the-darkestminds]

“The riddles in books are always so easy to solve!”

Me (has never solved a riddle in my life):

[florencemtrash]

When can we expect the next chapter 🥹❤️

TOMORROW! So sorry it's taken so long to get this out. Life happened.

The Shadowsinger and the Inkbird — Chapter 20 sneak peek

“If things go wrong—” He whispered, flicking a strand of hair out of your eyes. “Promise me you’ll find me.”  You blinked up at him, tracing fragments of gold in his gaze.  “Find you,” you echoed, your voice tinged with sadness. “You’re not going to convince me to run?” He laughed bitterly. “I know you too well, my love. You wouldn’t listen even if I did. If anything, it would make you want to stay and fight even more, just to prove me wrong.“ “Then is this some reverse psychology? You tell me the opposite of what you want, so I end up doing what you intended all along?” “You’re thinking too deeply about this.” He slid his arms around the small of your back, dropping his weight until you were flush against him. Until you could feel his heart beating beneath his skin in time to yours. “Find me, so I can protect you. And so if anything happens, we won’t be alone. I want you to promise me.”  You caressed his cheek, the coarse bandages he’d wound around your wrists and knuckles scratching the skin of his jaw and the faint stubble that had grown there over sleepless nights. “I promise I’ll find you, Azriel. We’re better together anyways.” 

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

hello i just wanted to drop by and put it to u that Azriel definitely uses his shadows to play “where’s daddy gone” with his kid and then jumps out while his daughter giggles like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. anyway, as u were.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

some of your favorite fics from all types of fandoms~ along with some of your favorite writers!

omg ok ok gimme one sec. i'm just going to link my fic rec posts because they have all my fave writers and fics :)

bhna:

bakugou todoroki

jjk

gojo geto megumi

acotar

azriel

here you go nonnie! i hope you enjoy these as much as i did!!!

[kayla-2]

Well jokes on you because Elriel is obviously not happening. It was so obvious in the bonus chapter that Gwyn and Az will end up together, maybe it was hard for you to analyze it? Take your time and read Yaz's analysis about mating bonds and Gwynriel so you'll not get disappointed. Plus, when Gwynriel's book is finally out the focus will be on Nesta too, Nessian specifically. Fetsand's time was up. Either you have to love Nessian or you could "roll your eyes" while reading acotar 6

I do not know who that is but I’m not reading anything that’s not the books and the author. That’s it, everyone else has limited information just like I do

Bonus chapters are just BONUS and shouldn’t be the start of a relationship. Elriel didn’t just have moments in the bonus, we don’t even need that bonus, it’s more of a confirmation they’ve been building since acomaf-acosf. You need things in the main series that is accessible to everyone not a limited bonus chapter that don’t even have any development.

I must care about gwyn more than you do because why would you want gwyn with a man that doesn’t consider her a friend, gifts her a necklace he bought and designed for another woman (mind you, he told clotho to give it to anyone first) and two pages before he saw her (mind you he said he thought he would be alone and would’ve ran if she didn’t already see him) he was about to kiss another woman and thinking of having sex with elain.. why do y’all want that for her?

The only thing that allows your ship to even be a thought is Rhys interrupting Azriel when he was about to kiss elain (definitely not elains mating bond which Sarah hasn’t made any development for since book 2) if Rhys didn’t interrupt…Az would be laying somewhere with elain, which isn’t enough for a new relationship and gwyn deserves better than a coincidence or a hurt man

Maybe if you listen to the author instead, you would know that Sarah said that feysand are the center of everything, so I’m not worried 😘 I do adore cassian though not that thing he’s chained to

[freyjas-musings]

gwyn and az are in a staring contest, who do you think is winning😂

You would be surprised but Az cheats flusters Gwyn and wins .... she is extremely agitated that she lost .... she makes him pay 10 times over 😅😅

[romanticatheartt]

No, Rhysand did NOT use his power to make Azriel call Elain a mistake, it was all Azriel's doing.

No, Gwyn is NOT a lightsinger that used her power to make Azriel re-gift that necklace to her, Azriel made that choice all by himself.

No, Mor did NOT lead Azriel for 500 years, she was clear about what she wanted and it was Az who crossed that line over and over. He wanted to be led and wait for a mating bond instead of forming any sort of friendship.

Please hold this man, that you put on such high regards, responsible for his actions. He always made his own choices all by himself without anyone's interference. This is how sjm wrote him, he's fucked up and messy.

And No, it's not out of character when you have no idea who Azriel is. So stop self-insert you fantasies into him and make this perfect character (for you) because he most definitely is NOT.

[theostrophywife]

the song of the phoenix.

masterlist (azriel x reader) request: @carlotawelshshit could you do one where the reader is the second oldest archeron sister and she has been with the ic for a very long time now but it's just now when the mate bond appears to az and then to her? author's note: writing this was so much fun. thank you for the request. i got a little carried away, but i hope you like it anyways. feel free to send more! summary: as the second eldest archeron sister, you've always felt invisible, but a song from the shadows confirms that azriel has seen you all along.

All your life, you felt invisible. 

Nesta was the fearless warrior. Elain was the gentle beauty. Feyre was the huntress with a heart of gold. 

As the second eldest Archeron, you were the overlooked sister. Quiet and shy, the wallflower who preferred to use her voice to sing rather than speak. It was a cruel twist of fate when the Cauldron took the one thing you loved and twisted it into a weapon to harm others. 

Now every time you sang, your voice had the ability to shake the seas and crumble mountains. Amren said that with proper practice, your power could desecrate entire villages. It was a gift, she said. It felt like a curse. 

Still, you needed to learn how to master it if you wanted to help your friends fight against Koschei. So here you were, sitting on the balcony at the House of Wind while balancing an empty goblet in your hand. The assignment that Amren tasked you with seemed simple enough. Shatter the glass using your voice. 

The day had come and gone as the sunset painted Velaris with its pink and golden hue and yet the glass remained intact. You draped a leg over the edge of the balcony, sighing. A huge contributor to your failed attempts was your own fear. You were afraid of this strange power within you. A year had passed since you were turned into High Fae, months had dredged on after the war with Hybern, and yet you hadn’t deigned to sing again since the Cauldron forged you into a harbinger of destruction. 

Anger coiled around your heart like a dark beast, clawing its way to the surface as you wrapped your fingers around the goblet. You gripped it so tightly that it began to hurt. Unaccustomed to your newfound Fae strength, shards of glass shattered in your hand and sliced opened your palm. Crimson droplets snaked down your wrist, leaving trails of blood on your cotton dress. 

“That’s one way to complete Amren’s assignment.” 

You turned abruptly, nearly falling out of the balustrade before strong arms wrapped around your waist. Shadows cast its net of darkness to keep you from careening over the edge while came face to face with the shadowsinger. A flash of concern flickered through Azriel’s hazel eyes before he set you down on the marble floor. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Heat flared through your cheeks as you shook your head. “It’s alright. I probably shouldn’t be sitting this high up with my track record of clumsiness.” 

Azriel studied you, his gaze drifting down to the cut on your right hand. An overwhelming sense of embarrassment washes over you when you realize that he witnessed your angry outburst. Instinctively, you slipped your hand into the pockets of your dress to hide them from view. The shadowsinger catches your wrist, a frown settling over his handsome face as he examines the blood.

“We should get you cleaned up.”

You waved away his concern. You hated causing anyone worry. “It’s fine, really. I can do it myself.” 

A hard expression settles over his features. “Do you know how to properly bandage a wound?” 

He raised a brow, knowing how squeamish you were when it came to injuries of any sort. When you shook your head slowly, Azriel smiled. “It’s alright. Given my line of work, I’ve picked up a thing or two from Madja. I can show you, if you’d like. You may be High Fae now, but you still have to make sure it heals properly.”

You eventually concede, finding yourself sitting on Azriel’s bed as he prepares the necessary items. Though you’ve been living at the House of Wind for awhile, you’ve never seen the inside of his room. It was darkly furnished, but not unwelcoming. As was standard, there was a bed, a desk, and a dresser. The door to the right connected to the shared space leading to Cassian’s old room, which you now occupied. On the left side, there was a bathing room that contained a tub large enough to accommodate Illyrian wings. The thought of Azriel soaking in the hot water and washing his wings after a long day instantly had your entire body heating up. 

It felt wrong to think of your friend that way, especially given his interest in your younger sister. You shook the thought away, quietly watching as Azriel strode back into the room with a basin of water in his hands. He set it down on his dresser, soaking a cloth while he settled beside you. Azriel wrung the towel and turned to face you. 

He seemed hesitant, looking down at his own scarred hands for a brief moment. You knew of Azriel’s insecurity as well as the story behind the burns. When he told you during one of your late night conversations in your shared living space, it took everything within you to not hunt his step-brothers down and make them pay for their cruelty. Instead, you thanked Azriel for trusting you with the painful memory. 

You told him that his hands were beautiful, because it was the truth. On that night, you saw Azriel smile for the first time. The look on his face was the most breathtaking sight you’ve ever seen. 

As doubt flickered through his eyes now, you wish you had the courage to tell the shadowsinger how you felt. The same way that you’ve been feeling since that night, but that would only serve to complicate things. It was painfully clear that Azriel only saw you as a friend and you didn’t want to ruin that, so instead you remained quiet. Like you always did.

“May I?” Azriel asks with a tone of uncertainty. You gave him a small nod of encouragement, rolling up the sleeve of your dress. 

Ever so gently, Azriel cleans the blood from your cut with careful concentration. The setting sun cast a warm, golden glow over his face, hitting his hazel eyes at just the right angle to bring out the golden flecks within them. His dark brows furrowed with focus as he pulled out a small vial from his dresser. A clear liquid glowed within as he pinched it between his fingers. 

“This might sting a bit, but it’ll help sterilize the wound.” 

“Okay,” you say. 

Azriel places a drop onto your cut and you wince as the liquid burns your palm. His fingers curl around your wrist, tracing soothing patterns onto your skin. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” 

The shadowsinger’s eyes flickered up to your face, but you averted his gaze, afraid of what he might find there if he looked hard enough. It was a miracle in itself that he hadn’t deciphered your feelings by now. Azriel was keen and observant, which is why you avoided being alone with him as much as possible. Some days you couldn’t avoid it, given that you lived across the hall from one another, but with your constant visits to the River House and Azriel being away on missions, the late night talks had been kept to a minimum. 

It was probably for the best because the more you got to know him, the more you valued Azriel’s friendship and you didn’t want to do or say anything that might jeopardize it. 

Azriel finished cleaning your wound and began to wrap gauze around your hand. Once he secured it safely, his shadows swirled through your arm and placed soothing kisses over your skin. You smiled, chuckling softly. 

“Sorry,” Azriel says sheepishly. “They seem to have a mind of their own today.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” 

He shifts on the bed, facing you. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You place your hand in your lap, sighing. “I just…feel so frustrated. It’s been nearly two years since the Cauldron gave me this power and I still don’t know how to wield it. My sisters, our friends, they’re all doing their part to prepare for what’s to come and I can’t even manage this one task. I hate feeling useless.” 

Azriel surveys you carefully, a frown forming on his face. “You’re not useless. It’s completely understandable that you haven’t been able to master your power given all that you’ve been through. These things take time.” 

“We don’t have time,” you reply. “Feyre learned how to wield all of the High Lord’s powers before the War. Nesta has her Valkyrie training. Even Elain has sought to understand more about her seer abilities, but I’m still stuck in this place. Still terrified of this destructive power that the Cauldron gave to me.” 

“Your sisters have dealt with their powers in their own ways and while they did, you supported them every step of the way. You encouraged them to have patience with themselves. I just wish that you’d extend that same grace to yourself.” 

Azriel stares up at you in earnest. There was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. The more he looked at you like that, the harder it became to remind yourself that you were only friends. 

“It’s hard to see everyone else adjusting to their lives here while I remain stagnant,” your voice cracked as panic rose up in your throat. “The Cauldron gave my sisters abilities, but it took what I loved most and warped it into something monstrous.” 

You curled your left hand into a fist, nails digging crescent shapes into the surface of your skin. The anger was bubbling up in you again, laced with frustration and grief and a million other emotions that you were so exhausted of feeling. A single tear slid down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away, ashamed that such a simple thing could reduce you to tears. 

To your surprise, Azriel lifted your chin up with his fingers. The action was full of uncertainty as though he expected you to recoil from his touch. He wiped the tear away with his thumb, caressing your cheek tenderly. 

“Is that why you haven’t sang since that day in Hybern?” You nod silently as Azriel beheld the pain and anguish written all over your face. “I thought so. When I first met Feyre, she told me about you. About how beautiful your voice was. How much you loved to sing. Then she took us to visit you and I heard it for myself. You were always humming under your breath. Singing in the garden when you thought no one else could hear. Even with the looming war, I found myself listening for your voice.”

Your heart felt hollow and empty. The song had been entirely ripped out of it. Azriel brushed your cheek again, holding you so gently as though he was afraid you might break. “But then, Hybern happened. When you and your sisters first came here, I thought that I might hear you sing again. I waited and listened every night. But I only heard silence.” 

“I can’t,” you cry out. “I can’t sing knowing what my voice can do.” 

“I know you think that the Cauldron made you into a weapon, but even weapons can be wielded to protect others. You tried it once and failed, but it doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. The restraint you had was barely holding and the dam of your emotions was threatening to flood your heart. “How many people will I hurt in the process? How much will I destroy because of this power I carry? How long until everyone else realizes that this monstrosity has always been inside me and the Cauldron only brought it to the surface?”

Your chest heaved as tears fell down your cheeks. The questions that have been eating away at you since that fateful day finally hung in the air like a noose tightening around your neck with every breath. 

“You’re not a monster, dove,” Azriel whispers softly.

The burden of carrying everything alone crashed down on you all at once. In five simple words, Azriel had voiced the thing you feared the most. His reassurance should’ve brought relief, but instead it only served to remind you of the complexity of your own feelings when it came to the shadowsinger. 

“I-I can’t talk about this with you.” 

Hurt marred his beautiful face. Your heart crumbled in your chest, hating that you were the cause of such a devastating sight. But for your own sake, you had to put an end to this conversation and distance yourself from the shadowsinger before it was too late. 

Azriel stared at you while you wiped your tears away. The intensity of his gaze burned as he examined every tell of emotion in your body language. Finally, he released a shaky breath.

With a voice of uncertainty, Azriel turns to you. “Did I do something wrong?”

The ice thawed in your veins. You shook your head vehemently, eyes welling with tears once more. “No, it’s not like that. You didn’t do anything wrong, Az.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” You tensed at his words, freezing in place. He clocked the shift in your posture and frowned. 

“I haven’t…I haven’t been avoiding you. We do plenty of things together all the time.” Even as the words slipped out of your mouth, they sounded entirely unconvincing. 

Azriel’s eyes narrowed. “But never alone. Not since the night I told you about my hands. Something changed between us then." There was such anguish in his voice as though the thought had kept him up at night. "I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what I broke.”

The walls felt like they were caving in, your chest caving deeper and deeper into the hollow space of your heart. All this time, you didn’t think Azriel would notice you slowly pulling away. Putting up a barrier between you so you wouldn’t get hurt. “It’s not about you, Az. It’s about me. I…I just don’t think spending time alone together is the best idea.”

“Why not? I thought we were becoming friends. I thought I was slowly getting through the wall you put up around yourself. I thought that you were finally letting me see past the armor of fake smiles and hollow laughs.”

“That’s the problem, Az. I don’t want you to see all of me.” 

Azriel blinked, never balking. Entirely unfazed by your stubborn effort. “I am your friend, dove. Don’t push me away.”

“I know, Azriel. You are my friend and that’s precisely why I’ve stayed away. I know how you feel about Elain and I respect that, but please don’t expect me to stand by and watch while you pine after my sister.” 

“Felt,” Azriel emphasizes. “How I felt about Elain. Those emotions were a manifestation of my jealousy towards my brothers finding their own mates. I care for Elain as a friend, but nothing more."

Azriel pauses, weighing his words. "There is another who has completely bewitched me mind, body, and soul. Even while she was human, even when she thought she was invisible to those around her, I heard her call.”

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t look at the male before you. “Do not say things you do not mean. It’s cruel.” 

Azriel inhaled sharply. “You know that every word I’ve ever uttered to you has been true. You can fortify that steel wall of yours as much as you want, but I will rip it apart inch by inch if that's what it takes to make you see yourself the way that I see you.”

A sob clawed its way up to your throat. Didn’t he understand that the steel wall you’d put around yourself was the only thing keeping you from falling apart? The only thing protecting the rest of your family and your friends from the darkness threatening to swallow you whole?

Silent tears fell on your lap as you held back the floodgate threatening to spill over. “If I let my guard down, then you’d see me for who I really am. All the dark and ugly parts that I try so hard to bury because deep down I have always known that I - I am broken.”

The tenderness in his eyes held nothing but understanding. “I was broken once too, but my brothers, my friends, you - you helped me put the pieces back together. You convinced me that I can be whole again and I’ll do the same for you. However long it takes.” Azriel held your face in his hands, determination blazing through those hazel eyes of his. “Because I love you.”

The steel wall around your heart collapsed at his words. You sobbed, clutching at Azriel’s chest while you completely fell apart. Strong arms wrapped around you, enveloping you in the familiar scent of night chilled mist and cedar. With the flap of his powerful wings, Azriel cocooned you in the safety of night. 

“It’s alright, dove.” Azriel whispers, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. “You can rage. You can scream. You can cry. You can fall apart and I’ll be right here to pick up the pieces.” 

“I love you, dove.” You curled into his chest, weeping and weeping until your voice was hoarse and your head throbbed. Azriel stroked your hair, pressing kisses on the side of your head. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he repeated in your ear like a lullaby. 

Shadows swirled through your form, placing a million, tiny little kisses on your skin. One swept over your cheek, curling through your ear to hum a familiar tune that you haven’t heard since you were a child. The song was soothing, reminding you of the time before your family lost your fortune, when you would play the grand piano in the music room, singing into the late hours of the night. Your mother had always scolded you for it, but your sisters would oftentimes curl up on the carpet to listen to your voice. 

Despite yourself, you hummed along softly. In the darkness of Azriel’s wings, a golden bright light glowed from your chest as though the music was coming alive from within you. He unfurled them slowly as shadow and light danced together until the thread formed a bridge between you. When you looked up, the shadowsinger's eyes were lined with silver. 

“It was you,” Azriel whispered. “In my father’s dungeons. I heard you.” 

Beneath your palm, Azriel’s heart thundered in his chest. You could feel it as though it were your own. It echoed in your ears, thrumming to the beat of your own heart as though yours and Azriel’s were one and the same. 

“What do you mean, Az?” 

Tears flooded his eyes and it knocked the very air out of your lungs. A protective instinct awakened inside of you as Azriel released a shaky breath. “When I was stuck in the darkness, I heard my shadows sing that same song. I’d been in that cell for so long that I was ready to lose hope, but then your song pierced through the silence.” 

An ache formed in your chest as Azriel recalled the painful memory. You reached out to touch him, wiping the tears streaming down his face. Golden bursts of light thread through your fingers and into his hair and Azriel’s shadows intertwined themselves in its gleam. 

“How is that possible?” you asked. 

“The bond,” Azriel says. “I heard you through the bond. I felt you and you saved me.” 

A memory floated through the surface. You were alone in the night, sitting in that same music room with your fingers hovering over the keys of the grand piano. An overwhelming sense of hopelessness and despair washed over you in waves, knocking into you again and again until you felt like you were drowning in it. The loneliness felt like a sentient being. A beast clawing to be released. You understood its pain and anger and fear because you’ve felt it all your life. The darkness didn’t scare you. It just needed a friend and you recognized that longing more than anyone, so you sang. A harmonious melody to soothe the feeling of isolation you both shared. 

You’d felt its pull all your life. That darkness - it wasn’t the same one that suffocated you when you were plunged into the Cauldron. It wasn’t evil or malevolent. The veil of shadow you’d felt that night had become a part of you and you’d carried it all along without truly knowing what it was.

“I- I felt you too,” you confirm. “That night. You needed a friend and so did I. When I reached out, I could feel the pain, the grief, the sorrow, the love, the joy. I think it’s been here all along.” You clutch at your chest. 

“What does that mean, Az?” you asked softly, but you already knew. The word was ingrained in every fiber of your being. Echoing in the depths of all that you were, are, and would be.

Mate. 

The bond of shadow and light snapped taut between you and it felt as though your very soul aligned to his.

Azriel placed your hand over his heart. “You’re - you’re my mate.” 

You couldn’t breathe. A mix of emotions welled up in your chest again. “Are you - is that okay with you?” 

He cupped your cheek in his hand. “Of course it is. I meant what I said, dove. I love you. Not because the Cauldron chose us to be mates, but because I chose you and I will do so every day for the rest of my life.” 

“I choose you too, Azriel. I think I’ve loved you longer than I realized,” the tension fell from your shoulders as you finally allowed yourself to say the words. “You saw me when no one else really ever has.”

Azriel wrapped his wings around you. In the cocoon of night, your skin glowed golden. His shadows twirled and danced with your light, weaving through your wrists and into your hair. The pure look of adoration on Azriel’s face made your heart melt. 

“I told you that I wouldn’t stop until you saw yourself as I saw you. Well, this is exactly what I’ve always seen. You are pure light, dove. Bright and burning, just for me.” 

You looked up at him and felt the love traveling down that bond of yours. When you leaned in to cup his face, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Azriel’s eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his forehead against yours. His nose brushed against yours and in the most gentle manner possible, he closed the gap between you and kissed you. 

The moment your lips met, you felt the light pulse within you. It bathed the both of you in its warmth, soft and golden like the rising sun. You felt complete in Azriel’s arms like all those years of feeling out of place and invisible were washed away with that one action. He felt like home. 

“All my life, it’s been nothing but dusk,” Azriel whispers. “But then you came and brought the dawn with your light.” 

This beautiful male would never stop taking your breath away. “You are my moon and stars, Azriel. I only learned to appreciate the darkness because of you.”

Azriel kissed you again, soft and sweet as though he was putting the broken pieces back together just like he promised. His shadows twined around you, their gentle caress a loving reminder of the bond you now shared. 

“They like you,” Azriel says with a smile. 

“I like them, too.” You chuckled as one of his shadows danced with your light. “But I like my mate most of all.” 

You kissed the tip of his nose, making Azriel beam. “Mate. I like the sound of that.”

“Why are we only feeling it now?” 

Azriel blinked, tilting his head in thought. “I think it’s because you finally let me in. You allowed yourself to be vulnerable enough to truly feel the bond.” 

With that, you felt a loving tug on the bond of shadow and light. The golden beams shimmered on your skin and Azriel reached out to caress one. “I think I know what you are, dove.” 

“What am I?” 

Azriel tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re a phoenix. The Cauldron tried to snuff out your light, but you rose from the ashes.” 

You didn’t know what it meant or even what being a phoenix entailed, but you didn’t feel worried. Instead, you felt relief. “Thank you, Az.” 

“For what?” 

You smiled. “For seeing me.” 

Azriel wrapped you in his arms once more and you melted into him. Whatever came next, you knew that he would be by your side to help figure it out.

For now, you were just content to feel safe in your mate’s embrace.

[yearning-for-autumn]

Would That I -- Part 11

A/N: God this took me aaages to get to a point where I liked it. But here we goooo, finally some interaction between reader and Eris! Thank you so much for your support on Part 1, there will be one more part after this. I hope you enjoy! Based on an amazing ask from @fandomsmultiverse who has the best ideas.

Pairing: Eris x Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, masturbation (male), oral sex

Word count: 5k

Part 1 Part 3

Were you jealous?

You could have thrown the letter into the fire. There was no need for a signature for you to know exactly who it was from, and you seethed. After he had kissed her neck, Eris had proposed to Nesta. Proposed. And yet here he was, writing letters, crawling back to you. Imagining him on his hands and knees, grovelling, soothed the hurt somewhat.

You re-read the letter again and again, losing yourself in ever worsening fantasies of Eris begging at your feet.

How dare he.

It stung all the more knowing your answer, deep down, was yes. Knowing that when you had locked eyes with your mate—your mate—all you could feel was the cold sting of envy. He was yours. You hated him. You needed him. You wanted him dead.

You crumpled the letter, then unfurled it and put it in a box, kicking it under your bed.

Cauldron damn and burn him.

The next week you received another letter.

Your silence tells me everything, little fox. And here I was thinking that you hated me. Send my regards to Lucien, I hear he has taken to sheltering in your dingy court.

You huffed an angry breath. But you read it over and over, searching for something. Something to be truly mad about. You came up short. Lucien was spending more and more time at the house of wind these days. Avoiding Elain. You had found a firm friendship trying to help him settle more in Velaris. Cauldron knows your brothers weren’t doing enough to help.

You found him in the living room, reading.

“Your brother sends his regards.” You said, watching intently for his reaction. His metal eye whirred as he looked up from his book.

“Hello to you too.” He said after a pause. “Which brother?”

“Eris.”

“Ah.”

You waited for him to say something more, but it never came. You sat down next to him biting your fingernail, debating whether to let him see the letter.

“Read this. Please.” You said, thrusting it into his hands. He read it, looked up at you, then back down at the letter. His lips curled into a grin.

“Oh, he’s practically begging for you.” He said, still grinning. You scoffed and grabbed the letter from his hands.

“He hates me. And I hate him.” You said decidedly. Lucien stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.

“Ok. So he’s writing you letters for you to...burn, I presume? Just to get you all riled up?” He bit his lip when he saw your murderous expression. “My brother wouldn’t be writing to you if he wasn’t interested in you. Rhysand told me about the ball, about how you were staring.”

“He proposed to Nesta that night, not me.” You said.

“Ah, so you are jealous.” Lucien teased. You growled.

“You are not helping.”

“Sorry.” He apologised, though he didn’t look remorseful, “I don’t know what you want me to say. My brother ruined my life, forced me to watch my love be killed and now he’s mated to someone who hates him. Seems like fair retribution. Send him my love of course.”

He was joking, but you saw through his mask of indifference. His unharmed eye revealed much more than you suspected he knew. He was pleading to speak to his brother. Despite your better judgement, you resolved to write Eris back, if only for Lucien’s sake. Excusing yourself to your room, you picked up your pen and paper.

Lucien sends his love in return. In future, if you wish to speak with your brother I suggest you contact him directly.

It disappeared into the ether and you stared at your desk. Another letter landed in front of you before you could get up. You blinked in surprise. You had spent so long hating this male that you had never spoken directly, reports of his cruelty coming second hand, and yet here he was, his handwriting so hurried you could have sworn he was excited you had written back.

Unlike you, Lucien would burn his letters. I will let myself believe Lucien sent his love sincerely, please let him know I wish to see him. I also wish to invite you to dine with me.

Why in all the realms would I dine with you?

You are my mate, are you not? It has snapped for you also. I saw how you stared at the ball. Nesta is a beautiful female, but you should know I am not the unfaithful type.

You have no one to be faithful to.

You wrote back, cruelty flowing onto the paper. It felt good for a moment, before the bond soured it. You stared at the letters piling up with increasing disdain. Who did he think he was, acting as if you were already his. His reply popped onto your desk moments later.

There you are, unfortunately, most correct, little fox.

---

Eris spent the next few days in agony. He had never expected you to write back, but after seeing the hunger in your eyes that night… If there was any chance you had changed your mind about him, he would be in the Night Court in a heartbeat. Rhysand had been keeping all diplomatic matters at arms length, not allowing any visitation into Velaris. Eris was no stranger to the territorial behaviour of a male with a pregnant wife.

On that note, he was supposed to be shopping to find a gift for his nephew today. He whistled for Cheddar, who brought along Lulu, his youngest. Eris rolled his eyes.

“Ok, Lulu can come too if she must. But both of you will have to be on a short lead.” He said, mostly to himself, but Cheddar cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture that made Eris grin, rubbing her head with both hands.

He was in a small toy shop, full of handmade stuffed bears and wooden doll houses, when the letter appeared unceremoniously in his hands. Excusing himself outside, he slunk into a nearby alleyway to read it.

Lucien has agreed to see you.

Was all it read. His heart leapt into his throat. He scribbled a response on a scrap of spare paper in his pocket and it vanished from his hands before he had time to regret it. The response was immediate.

Rhysand will allow you in Velaris for two hours under strict supervision from Lucien. Tomorrow at noon.

Eris tried to catch his breath, not wanting to admit to himself how overjoyed he was that his baby brother wanted to see him. Not only that, but he was granted permission to enter the Night Court, Velaris for that matter, where you would surely be. He pet Lulu gently, grounding himself. Now to think of an excuse as to why he would be absent from Court tomorrow. In the shop, he picked out a soft brown bear with a doe eyed expression, letting himself believe it was because his nephew loved bears, and not because its glossy eyes reminded him of you.

Beron took the lie surprisingly well; any dealings with the Night Court were beneficial to Autumn, which was dangerously close to having few allies in Prythian. Beron liked Kier, and whilst he looked down on them, appreciated the brutality of the Illyrian armies. Night would be a strong ally indeed. If only he knew exactly where their loyalties lay.

Eris laid in bed, the window ajar, unable to sleep, thinking of you. His mind straying to that night in the Hewn City, how you looked in your silken gown, back deliciously low to show off your magnificent wings. You had been downright sinful, and he had had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Nesta, who, whilst stunning, held no candle to you that night. Not to him. He ran a hand down his chest as his cock stirred. 

Memories consumed him. The heat of the ballroom. Trailing his eyes all the way up the slit in your dress, dragging his gaze to the top of your thigh, no panty line visible. His hand grasped his cock through his slacks as he imagined peeling the fabric back to reveal your unclothed cunt, and he squeezed hard as he saw himself drop to his knees.

“No panties?” His voice was husky. You gave a coy smile,

“Wanted you to have me, Eris.” You breathed. “Wanted you to taste how much I need you.”

Unbuttoning his slacks and freeing his cock, Eris hissed as he pumped his already dripping length. Your pussy would make a delectable mess of your thighs, drooling just for him. He licked his lips and fucked his hand harder as he fantasised. Your moans would be music to his ears as he messily ate you out, tongue laving across your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling as your thighs shook with pleasure.

Debauched sounds filled the room, the wet shlick of his cock becoming the squelching wetness of your pussy as he finally sunk his fingers deep inside of you. He wanted your hands in his hair. He wanted to guide you down onto the floor so that he could feast on you properly, drink you down, consume you. You would cry out, just the thought of it had him squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon. His hips bucked into his fist at a punishing pace, his eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in pleasure. 

The bond was thrumming like drums in his chest, heightening every feeling as his thick member pulsed, spurting precum into his hand. It didn’t take long until he growled, his whole body tensing and his cock painting his stomach white with his seed. When he groaned out in pained pleasure, it was your name on his lips.

---

You stood by Lucien’s side, the redhead almost vibrating with nervousness.

“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” He asked. You smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Because you want to see him. I could tell the moment I gave you that letter. You’re happy he still thinks of you.”

“It’s complicated.” He groused, “We haven’t spoken properly in decades. What if—what if he’s not the male I remember?” You felt your heart break at Lucien’s words, cursing yourself for meddling in his relationships. You just wanted to see him. Once more. To confirm that your hatred was justified. But you pushed that aside, feeling terrible for dragging Lucien into your little game.

“Lucien, he’s your brother. I know you haven’t been feeling so settled here lately, I think seeing him will do you some good.” It was the best you could do, unable to tell him for certain that the Eris you knew was the same doting brother he had told you about. You squeezed his arm and were relieved to feel him relax.

“Will you stay with me, just for a bit?” He asked. You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, not to Lucien. You smiled at him gently.

“Of course I will. Just don’t expect me to have anything nice to say.” He laughed, but his bright smile faded as he spotted Eris walking up the path, escorted by a deadly looking Azriel. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw your mate, impeccably dressed and ruggedly handsome. Your eyes lingered for a moment too long. Azriel shot you a warning glare, then winnowed away. Eris, finally free of his chaperone, looked at Lucien and you felt nervousness wash down the bond. He dug in his bag and pulled out two small boxes.

“Lucien.” He said.

“Eris.”

“Mother baked apple cinnamon biscuits. They are—were your favourite.” He handed one of the boxes to Lucien, who took it with so much care it could have contained something much more valuable.

Eris turned to you, “I also brought you something.”

Surprised, you were handed a little box of your own. You peeked inside and heat rushed to your cheeks. A small dagger, with jewel encrusted hilt lay on a bed of luxurious velvet. A courting gift. You looked at him incredulously. He was here to see his brother, he hated the very thought of you, why in all the realms was he bringing you courting gifts.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” You frowned, looking down at the dagger as if it had offended you.

“Usually they’re used for stabbing people.” Eris said, with a mask of cool calm betrayed by a tightness in your chest that didn’t belong to you, “But I suppose it would make a pretty kitchen accessory, should you wish.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes.

“I am not a housewife.” You sneered.

“No. That’s not what—” Lucien cleared his throat and saved you from whatever Eris was about to say next.

“Let me show you around Velaris.” He said, diffusing the tension. “It’s not often outsiders are allowed to just waltz in.”

“Of course,” Eris said, “Will you be joining us?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I will spare you the agony, Vanserra.” You turned to leave, but looked back at Lucien, “Do not let him out of your sight. Rhys will have my head if he does anything stupid.”

As soon as you were a few feet away you felt you could breathe easily again. The bond had been simmering, thrilled at your proximity to your mate. It was a constant buzzing and humming in your chest. You were relieved you could no longer feel it, and made sure to send that feeling loud and clear down the connection between you and your mate.

---

In the following three days you received: A small wheel of cheese, a bouquet of marigolds and a pair of amber earrings. Lucien couldn’t stop laughing when he presented you with the cheese, but it had been amazing with some salt and pepper crackers that evening.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt when Lucien came the next day with another box. He was grinning wildly, barely stifling his laughter.

“I think this might be the worst one yet.” He said, thrusting the box into your hands, “Please open it.”

Eris had been sending the gifts through Lucien, and, like the letters, you had been hiding them from the rest of your family. It felt bad, going behind your brothers backs. But they could never find out that Eris was attempting to court you, for his sake and theirs. Lucien and Eris had managed to start talking again, over the constant gifts and letters. As annoying as it was, you were glad some good had come of it. Though he hadn’t been allowed in the Night Court again.

Lucien was practically rocking on his heels. Inside the box was a knitted headband. It was poorly made, full of holes and oddly misshapen. You frowned.

“What is this?” You looked to Lucien for an explanation but he was doubled over. He took a ragged breath.

“I told him not to send it. I told him it was a shit gift.” He managed before he was wheezing with laughter again. You inspected the headband.

“Did...did Eris make this?” Lucien simply nodded through his tears. You blinked.

“I don’t want these gifts. Please tell him to stop wasting his time.” It felt cruel. But your mind flashed to his lips on Nesta’s neck, his emotionless eyes during the battle with Hybern, your cousin's agonising cries when she had returned in Azriel’s arms that fateful night. You balled the cursed thing in your hand and chucked it back in the box. Lucien bit his lip, not finding it quite as funny anymore.

“It’s tradition in the Autumn Court to send things that are useful, as well as just objects of beauty.” He explained. It was clear which one the headband was meant to be.

“I’m Illyrian. Does he really think a bit of cold is going to hurt me? I don’t want any courting gifts, Lucien, regardless of their use.”

“You ate the cheese.” He murmured.

“We all ate the cheese, Lucien.” Was your quick reply.

He had no retort, and you decided that it was for the best. When you returned to your room, you pushed the box under your bed with the rest of the letters and gifts. The marigolds were wilted and dead for lack of sunlight, the earrings never touched. You could feel the mating bond screaming, begging to be heard, but you pushed it back further. This male would not have any part of you. None at all. You would never be his. No matter how much the thought pained you.

---

You were not reciprocating. Eris had spent all night fumbling around with those stupid needles trying to make something you might actually care for, and your response was silence. He thought back to that night. He knew he had not imagined the hunger in your eyes that almost knocked him dead. Yet how had he repaid you? By kissing Nesta. By proposing to Nesta. 

He had fucked up. As if, after everything you already thought about him, you might have given him a chance.

Yet the bond raged so fiercely, he could barely stand to ignore it for even a day before his chest burned so badly he thought he might drown. It would be a fitting way to go, he thought. To be hated so much it killed him. He had done enough to deserve such a fate.

Weeks passed, then months. Rhysand had been kind enough to let him visit Lucien twice more, once ending in a painfully awkward run in with Cassian that had him leaving earlier than intended. Those overgrown bats hovered around him as if he might try stealing you away the longer he spent in the Night Court. He never managed to catch even a glimpse of you. Not with Azriel or Rhys silently staring, or Cassian barging in every few minutes pretending to need something from the room. He was allowed nowhere without Lucien as his chaperone, he could say nothing without it being overheard. So much for bats, they were more like hawks.

He had stopped sending courting gifts. And he had stopped sending letters.

Cheddar lay her head on his lap, and he stroked her soft head gently.

“Am I just a fool, Cheddar?” He asked, knowing she could do nothing more than side-eye him as he spoke. “What good is it, pursuing your mate who hates you and whose brothers want you dead? Should I let this go?”

Cheddar whined, and thumped her tail. Checking the clock Eris found it was almost time for her walk. Eris glanced at the paper laid on his desk, gathering dust for weeks. He sighed. Once more. Once more he would grovel for your attention, to soothe the pain in his chest, the ache in his heart. Then he would let it go.

Let you go.

Forever.

Join me for a walk. I wish to talk. Eris.

He signed his name, the first time he had ever bothered to. Before he had time to overthink it, it vanished from his desk. His hands shook. Seconds passed, minutes turned to half an hour. Then it came. Popping onto the desk unceremoniously. Your response.

Fine. Where should I meet you?

He replied quickly, Cheddar beginning to get restless.

On the border, there is a doorway from Night to Autumn, I will walk you past the wards.

I will be there.

It was now well past when he would have usually taken the dogs out, but they would be walked, this time with his mate in tow. He stood with a shaky breath, and took the leads off the wall. Winnowing with his dogs to the edge of the Court, he steeled himself. He was ready to face you, to face his one chance to change your mind.

---

You stood at the edge of the Autumn Court. You had told no one where you were. Nor had you told anyone who you were with. Rhys would have a fit if he ever found out, Azriel would never speak to you again. Cassian might have allowed you to go, but not without following you and glaring holes through Eris the entire time.

It was safer for Eris on your own.

You heard his dogs first, then his voice calling after them to slow down. A brindle smokehound bounded up to you, its tongue lolling and tail wagging frantically. They were a beautiful breed, and rare, you couldn’t help the warm smile you gave it. It stopped just short of smacking into your legs and you giggled, holding your hand out for it to sniff. It was a few beats ahead of its owner, who was walking slowly with four more dogs waltzing around him, one calmly at his side. You watched as they ran circles around you and Eris as he came to a stop before you. He gave a short whistle and they stopped dead in their tracks, then retreated to his side. You couldn’t help the short burst of arousal you sent down the bond. Eris gave a cocky smile.

“You came.” He said, his smooth voice giving away no emotion, the bond closed off to you.

“I did.” You answered, unable to block your side of the bond quite as effectively.

“Did you receive my gifts?”

“I did.” You repeated. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.

“Well, the dogs will be off leash, I hope that’s alright. They’re usually good, but this one might try and go for the squirrels.” He said, pointing to a gorgeous black dog who pressed it’s long nose into Eris’ hand. You gave the pup a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, both of you unsure of where to start, what to say to mend the fraying thread that connected you. Golden and ruby leaves crunched underfoot, the dogs panting breaths fogged little clouds in the crisp air. It was truly beautiful. You had always felt a sense of calm when Autumn fell over Velaris, but it could not compare to the serenity of the Autumn Court. It felt as though the whole Court was holding its breath, the season of change, never-changing, unending. Eris let you soak it in, watching as you beheld the forest in all its magnificence, not bothering you with conversation.

“You kissed her.” You said finally, breaking the peaceful silence. Eris fiddled with the leash in his hand.

“I had to.”

“Why?” You asked, the question sounding childish as soon as it escaped your lips.

“There were expectations on me that night I don’t expect you to understand.” The bond was still sealed tight from you, he spoke with the emotionless tone of a well-trained courtier.

“Try me.” You pressed.

“I don’t want to.” And perhaps it was the truth, but frustration built the further you walked, the silence dragging out between you uncomfortably. He had invited you here to talk. So talk he would.

You scoffed. The bond buzzing incessantly at your closeness to your mate, finally right where it wanted to be. But all you could focus on were his eyes, his heated gaze, as he had brushed his lips across Nesta’s bare neck.

“No.” You snapped. “You knew I was watching when you claimed my sister. When you proposed to marry her. You have given me no reason to believe you care for me. Never once apologised for what you did to my cousin. How could I ever trust you? That is what you want, is it not?”

He was staring at you now, no longer averting his gaze, amber eyes cold and calculating.

“I had a duty to my father to propose marriage to Nesta, I have no feelings for her, only for you.” Eris said, carefully ignoring any mention of Morrigan.

“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Only that we share this bond.” You argued. One of his dogs trotted up to your side and you pet her head to calm yourself. The action grounded you, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Eris, who felt it deep in his chest.

“I know that you seem to care an awful lot about what I did with your sister, yet claim to detest me” He said, dropping the walls he had carefully placed around the bond.

Nerves. Anger. Disappointment.

“I have waited centuries for a mating bond, and will not let your unfortunate Court affiliations bar me from trying, especially not when you show me so clearly your true desires.”

You rounded on him with anger glinting in your eyes.

“You could never be serious, professing my ‘true desires’, if you knew how much I loathed you, Eris Vanserra.”

Hurt. Pain. Despair.

“You are a power hungry brute who as far as I know has a secret thing for Illyrians.”

There was a pregnant pause. Eris stared straight at you with an expression you could not decipher. He was bathed in dappled golden light. He looked ethereal. You couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you, and you knew he felt it too.

Hope.

Something clicked, his expression shifted and he moved towards you with a darkness in his eyes that sent heat rushing to your core. You stepped back until you hit a tree, your back pressed up against it, and you were trapped. He crowded you, so close you could almost taste his spiced perfume.

“Is that what they have told you, little fox?” He asked, his deep voice low and sensual against your ear, “The only Illyrian I have a thing for is you. The moment I saw you swagger into that meeting as if you owned the place, I knew the Mother had made the right choice. She mocks me with your family, but I would risk their disapproval for just a taste of you.” You sucked in a breath, anger quickly replaced with lust as he pressed against you, and you cursed your body for reacting. You knew he could smell your arousal as his cruel grin widened.

“You feel it too, don’t you little fox.” His scent consumed you as he dropped every glamour, the heady rush of his arousal surrounded you like a drug. “That despite everything you think about me, you want me too. You want this.”

There was nowhere to run, with your back firmly pressed against the tree. There was no escape. That would be the lie you kept telling yourself afterwards as you surged up to kiss his lips, no longer able to resist. You took him by surprise, and used your advantage to spin him around, lips still on his, pushing him against the tree. He looked at you with lust blown eyes, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, hard.

“This is mine.” You growled, the jealousy and need you had felt at the ball rushing back full force, “You are mine. From now on if you so much as sniff around another female I will make sure to show you exactly who you belong to.”

He panted, nodding frantically.

“Yes. Please. Please y/n, I need you.”

You fished his cock from his pants, it was wet and throbbing, the length of it in your hand making your pussy clench in need. He hissed at the cold air. You needed him closer. You needed to taste him. Dropping to your knees, you enveloped him in your mouth, his hands flying to your hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk.” He groaned. He pulled your hair roughly, and you looked up at him with doe eyes. You wanted it hard, rough. Wanted him to fuck your mouth as if he hated you. He felt it all through the shimmering golden thread and whimpered.

“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He grit out. With a small smile you bobbed your head, experimentally. A burst of salty precum coated your tongue and you swallowed it with a moan. He was hot and pulsing in your mouth, you pushed your head further down until he was at the back of your throat, your nose bumping against his navel, wanting him to feel the contractions as you swallowed around him. Breathing through your nose, you tapped at the back of his legs. you wanted him thrusting into you.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he pulled his hips back, dragging his cock lavishly across your tongue. With a sharp breath he pushed in, and you met his thrust with a bob of your head, knees aching, eyes watering.

He growled, and picked up the pace until he was fucking your face with abandon. His moans and pants sending slick dripping into your panties. Salt was all you could taste as his dick leaked continuously onto your tongue. He was soaking wet, with your spit, with his slick. It was the messiest blowjob you had ever given, and you fucking loved it. The bond hummed in pleasure as you gagged and drooled around him.

“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m close.” He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy as he ground his hips against your face.

“Gods your mouth, your fucking mouth, you’re gonna make me cum.” You laved your tongue over him, his constant stream of words both amusing and arousing you. You pulled off his cock and held your tongue out, looking up at him, hand pumping him roughly.

“I’m, I’m cumming, shit, Sweetheart, fuck.” He came copiously, so much that you choked on it. You swallowed, watching his eyes darken as you licked your lips.

He leaned against the tree, panting, and you sat on your knees.

This was not what you had planned. Not in the slightest. You had come to tell him to fuck off, to let the bond grow cold and stale. And yet you were on your knees in front of him, the taste of him consuming your senses. What had you done? You knew he could feel the growing fear, spreading through your chest like a chill.

“I have to go.” You stood abruptly.

“Don’t—” You didn’t stay to hear what he said next. You ran to the doorway, and didn’t stop running until you had reached your bedroom in the Night Court.

You opened the door. Rhys stood, a murderous look on his face and letters gripped tight in his fist. The scent of Eris was all over you. You had no way to hide it. His eyes darkened, your desk cracked and splintered then misted into thin air.

“Rhys I—” You scrambled for the right words to say as your brother took a heavy step towards you.

“I can explain.”

Taglist:

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[redbleedingrose]

Hey , how will our bat boys would react to No Nut November ? 😂❤️

All three of them would not complete at all 😅

This is an interesting question LMAO! I think all of them would lose, neither of them would make it till the end of the month.

NSFW 18+

Rhysand

I feel like Rhys would last at least a couple of days, no longer than a week. He has patience as high lord, but lets be so for real, Rhys is a SLUT! He is absolutely taken with you and cannot go long without having you in some sort of way. This male only goes on his knees for you, so do we really think he would last without having a taste of his favorite girl?

I feel like he would try to distance himself and force himself not to think about you by holing up in his office and busying himself with paperwork, but that doesn’t last with you constantly sending him dirty images of him bending you over his desk and fucking you senseless, of you crawling into his lap so you can bounce on his cock, of him tasting your sweet cunt, of you sucking the soul out of his cock. He can practically taste you, smell you, feel you having your way with him and he can’t resist.

Maybe five days in, after a long day of dirty images sent to him with murmured pleading through the bond, the high lord is practically restless, his cock throbbing and nearly bursting out of his pants, and you just walk into his office completely naked, nipples tight from the cold air and cunt soaked from your teasing. His pretty violet eyes roll back into his head, groaning at your scent that fills the air, practically tasting you on his tongue, and he pounces.

You don’t leave that office for hours.

And lets just say when you do, Rhys is carrying you out because you can’t walk.

And he may or may not be carrying you to your shared bed so that you can continue your Nut November festivities.

Cassian

Sigh LOL.

Poor Cassian wouldn’t last even a day. He would give up after a couple of hours LMAO. This male has no self control when it comes to you, absolutely no sort of patience.

You were probably just standing there minding your own business, not even knowing the challenge he and his idiot bat boy brothers came up with is happening, and he gave in. And to be quiet honest, I think he was trying to find reasons to give in since he started the challenge. The bastard was probably knocking down books from your bookshelf, chuckling to himself a raspy “oops” as you glare over at him, cock hardening in his pants as you storm over and point at him to pick it up.

The second he is on his knees before you, he gives in. He smirks up at you, standing ever so slowly until he is towering over you and you are glaring up at him with your fists pressed on your hips and your foot tapping away on the ground. He murmurs a “sorry sweetheart,” brushing your hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear before leaning in to press a hard, chaste kiss to your lips. And how can you not forgive him?

And then, he throws you over his shoulder, smacking a hard slap at your ass while you cry out, “Cassian,” in shock, tearing up the stairs so he can have a taste of his favorite cunt because fuck no nut November when his mate is as gorgeous and sexy as you are.

Azriel

Azriel would last the longest out of the bat boys. Full stop he would.

He is the epitome of patience, and restricting himself. He has to be as spymaster. It’s basically in his job description to deprive himself of simple pleasures. He waits for hours to have a sip of water while he goes out on missions to spy, waits days to eat and has gone up to a week without sleeping. He can restrict himself. He can.

But with you?

With you, it becomes incredibly difficult. He loves you, more than the moon and the night sky. More than he has ever loved anything. More than the night court, and even more than his love for his brothers. In all honesty, Azriel would betray Rhys if you asked him to. Don’t get me wrong, it would be hard and you would get push-back from him. But he would. It is one of his deepest secrets. Maybe one of his darkest secrets. Because when it comes to the question of loyalty… it will always, always, be you. No matter how much he loves his court, no matter how much he loves his brothers, it would always be you.

With that being said, is he able to resist you? I think he would for maybe two or three weeks. He gets pretty far into it, not that it isn’t the hardest thing he has ever done, but he gets far into it. I think it is probably harder for him than you realize. You obviously know about this little challenge your mate and his brothers created for themselves, and honestly, its very amusing seeing Az try so hard to resist you.

Even his shadows cannot resist. His shadows defy their master every day by playing with you. Traveling in whisps around your hair, brushing a cool touch against the back of your sensitive neck to the point your hair is standing, tweaking at your nipples till the peak beneath your shirt… they certainly know how to tempt their master.

Azriel gives in when he walks into your home, tired from his day long mission, and walks in on you completely naked, splayed out on your bed, legs held open by his shadows as they circle around your pussy, sensitive clit while you squirm, moaning and whimpering his name. From the looks of it, his shadows have been teasing you for hours, the smell of your arousal is absolutely divine, he can hardly tolerate it. You’re practically laying a puddle of your own arousal, staring at him through hooded, pleading eyes and he cracks.

Yeah, no one is able to get a hold of you or Azriel for a solid two weeks after. It’s practically like the mating frenzy all over again. And it is incredible.

Masterlist

[asphalt-cocktail]

How does the ACOTAR fandom feel about non canon compliant x reader or x OC fics? Im asking because I want to write one and don’t want to be blasted up the ass for not following the plot or adding in my own stuff.

[florencemtrash]

So like…..who’s gonna have the unfortunate job of telling Helion that Az accidentally and unknowingly stabbed his daughter 😅

I would NOT want to be that person that's for fucking sure 😅. Not my circus, not my monkey.... except it IS my circus and my monkey so... fuck

Either way, don't you worry, Helion will learn very quickly what went down and he is not going to be happy about it....

[sserrafeim]

“Azriel should end up with Elain”

“Azriel should end up with Gwyn”

No, Azriel should end up WITH ME

[valiantroyalty]

Anonymous asked:

I would love to read more Ariel x Azul please

”You know, I do believe that Girl is quite infatuated with you, Azul,” Jade commented as he spotted the redhead from the corner of his eye. The two of them were surveying the lounge, to see how busy it was currently, with Floyd in the kitchen.

“Oh, certainly not.” Now Azul spotted the redhead as well, who was weaving her way through the crowd of people, her eyes looking everywhere except for in front of her. “What makes you think such a thing, Jade?” He questioned as he glanced at his right hand man, who only shrugged but a smile was on his face. “Do you even know who she is -“

“Azzie!”

Ariel spotted the dorm warden and vice and she trotted over to them. Jade cast a gance to Azul which clearly read “I told you so” before he disappeared into the kitchen, which left the owner alone with the princess.

“I - Azzie? Are you referring to me?” Came the question once he found his voice. To thing he’s been given a nickname so soon, he couldn’t believe it. But the answer waa given in a form of an eager nod, red curls bobbing from the motion. Azul waa momentarily entranced before be cleared his throat. Part of him was nervous because he had an inkling on who this girl was exactly, and if true -

“You own this place right? It’s pretty!” His thoughts were interrupted by her voice. Ariel smiled up at him, one that showcased very sharp teeth, much similar to the twins. “I found this! Dinglehopper!” A fork was promptly shoved in his face and he had to take a step back.

“A dinglehopper? That’s not -“ A pause. The princess in the legend called forks dinglehoppers, and his suspicions were only being more confirmed. “Yes, a.. dinglehopper. We have plenty of those,” he told her. “Do you know the true use of one?”

Confusion flickered briefly on Ariel’s face before she showed him what the meaning was - all based on one bird’s words, of course. She ran the utensil through crimson locks, slightly tugging from her unkept curls. Then before Azul could react, his hat was off his head and Ariel was leaning in dangerously close, a determined expression on her face. She’s brushing his hair with the fork.

Unbelievable.

He felt his face flare up and he cleared his throat again. “You - you can stop now. My hair is brushed!” There’s embarrassment in his tone, which didn’t help as he heard familiar laughter from the kitchen. It’s a bit crowded in the lounge, and he felt eyes on him.

A soft hum greeted him as she pocketed the fork into her dress. She’s not discouraged at all. “I only start! We can do more in your room!”