#azriel shadowsinger fan fiction

[starlightazriel]

glass heart

desc: fem reader mated to azriel short one shot/drabble based on this request

warnings: ANGST, death of a child/stillbirth, time jumps

a/n: i received this request last night and my fingers were ITCHING to get it out omg i hope you enjoy the angst as much as me ! masterlist

wc: 1.5k

Drowning in the dry air.

Like all of the breath had been completely sucked from your lungs.

There was no sound, you couldn't hear anything, despite the cries and screams coming from your mouth you couldn't hear it. You couldn't hear what Azriel was saying as he held your arms in place, they were all trying to, but you needed your babe. You needed your beautiful baby girl. She was blue, wrapped in linen, not a breath, not a cry... Nothing. It was as if she had taken everything out of the world with her, any bit of happiness and light that you'd ever felt, she put it out, with her blue little body. Born like that, not a coo nor a wail.

You had failed. You failed yourself, you failed Azriel, you failed the beautiful baby and the family you were supposed to have with your mate. Your ears rung, the sound from the room eventually dialing in, none of them mattered, because they weren't your babe crying.

"Baby look at me, look at me," Azriel begged, pleaded with you to do anything besides scream. Feyre was holding the babe still, looking frightened of you as she stared back at you clutching your cold baby to her chest. "Calm down," Azriel continued to beg, anger ripped through you. How dare they. You needed to say goodbye.

"Give me my baby girl," you shrieked, your voice echoing through the room, she slowly advanced, placing the babe in your arms. You stared down at her face, blue, never able to take her first breaths. Her tiny wings took your breath away, another sob broke through you. Everything hurt, there was so much blood everywhere due to the complications, but no amount of physical pain you were feeling could compare with the hole that was now in your chest, marked onto you for life, never to be filled. You were lucky to even be alive, but you wished to be dead, how could you live with yourself anymore? Another sob ripped through your chest as you rocked and rocked, holding her to your chest.

"Y/n," Azriel pleaded with you desperately, his eyes were clouded, but his tears didn't fall. You ignored him, nothing mattered, you couldn't breathe, your heart was shattered... Gone.

"I'm sorry, Im sorry, I'm sorry," you sobbed over and over again, kissing the babes head, your little daughter, gone before you could even have her

-

You shook softly as Azriel poured the water over your head, washing away the soap he had put in your hair. He hadn't left your side for even a second, he hated how you were blaming yourself, how you refused to accept any other reality besides the one that involved you completely destroying yourself. Azriel carefully lifted you from the tub, setting you down on the small bench and carefully drying your body. He knew your knees would give out the moment he tried to make you stand. He pulled your nightgown over your head and scooped you up in his arms again before he carefully laid you back on your bed.

Sobs racked through your body, you rocked and rocked, Azriels shadows held you, caressed you. He sat in the chair by the fireplace in your shared room, a blank expression on his face as he watched you. He felt so numb. There was nothing he could do. He couldn't save you, he couldn't take your pain away. He didnt dare speak, he didnt dare approach you, or try to touch you again. Beyond bathing and clothing you wouldn't let him touch you.

Last night, he had tried, and you threw a vase of flowers at him that Mor had dropped off to signify her condolences. He couldn't talk to you, no one could, you refused to talk to anyone. It had been a whole week and you hadn't touched any food. He was desperate for you to say anything to him, to let him know you were okay, even though he knew you weren't.

"I love you," he tried, but you only cried harder, he winced, rising to his feet. You didnt ask where he was going, didnt even bother to look when he exited the room. He crossed the hall and went out the door to the balcony, shooting himself into the rain filled sky.

-

"Please come out of the room tonight," his tone was soft, so soft. It was the only way he had talked to you for eight months. You were starting to get sick of it, it was starting to build rage deep inside you. You knew it was eating him up inside to watch you wither away, but you didnt need his pity, this was your fault, you couldn't birth your baby. Frustration coursed through you because no one understood, not even Azriel. "It's winter solstice," he tries again when you don't respond, still in that same soft pathetic tone like he just felt so bad for you. He had been waiting on you hand and foot, barely working because he refused to leave your side for more than a day, bringing endless trays of food up to your room even though you refused to eat, bathing you and washing your hair, dressing you, even though you wouldn't leave the room. He had been so patient, and it almost drove you more mad.

"You can stop talking to me like that, Im not as fragile as you might think," you bite back, venom in your words. He draws back, you feel him, you feel his shadows shy away from your aggression, from your anger.

"Im sorry," he retorts, a similar bite lacing his tone, "but what the fuck do you want from me y/n?!" he demands, you twist around in the blankets, surprise covering your face, you can't even remember the last time he'd used a tone like that with you. "Everyone has told me to give you time, I have given you time. It's been eight months, you've barely left this room, Ive never seen you this skinny, you don't eat, you barely drink unless it's wine, you don't talk to me, you don't kiss me, we haven't had sex in I don't even know how long. I don't even know you anymore! I want my mate back," he was frustrated, you knew him well, he was going crazy. He didnt know how to cope with this new version of you, this shell of yourself. "I lost our baby too you know!"

"I killed our fucking child Azriel, we were supposed to be parents, and youre worried that we haven't had sex?" you look at him, disgust and horror written on your face. It didnt matter how many times he told you that it wasnt your fault, that everything happened for a reason, that you would try again in a few years, none of it helped, none of it made it better. It only made you more angry. And he expected you to leave your room when you couldn't even stomach being around Feyre and Nyx, you knew it wasnt fair, but the jealousy ate you up any time they came to visit.

"Oh you know that's the least fucking important thing out of everything I just said," he furrowed his brows, rising to his feet to look down at you, his shadows swirled and licked around him angrily. "When are you going to stop blaming yourself? When are you going to let it go y/n? You can't spend the rest of our lives in this room," he was so frustrated, so exasperated, he didn't know how to help you, how to fix you.

"Let it go?" Each word was drawn out slowly, laced with so much venom that Azriel took a large step back. "Our babe is dead and you want me to let it go," your anger and hate and depression was like a dark heavy cloud hanging over the room, it had been there for months. "No Azriel, no I will not be leaving the room, and no I will not be letting anything go," you're seething, your body trembling as you stare back at him.

"You know I didnt mean it like that," he breathes, softening and hes about to reach for you but you turn your back on him, staring into the dark winter night out your window. He sighs and a few long moments of silence pass. "Happy solstice my love," he says before tossing a small wrapped box onto the bed beside you before leaving you alone in your depression den, sucking all the warmth from the air out the door with him. You hadn't wanted him to leave, to back down, you wished he had forced you to come with him.

Hesitantly, with shaking fingers you grab the box, carefully undoing the ribbon and opening the box inside. You suck in a small breath, tears welling up in your eyes again. It was a beautiful silvery chain with a glass heart hanging from it, encapsulated in the heart was a tiny fragment of your babes wing. You sobbed softly, clutching the pendant to your chest. Your eyes squeezed shut, your body shaking with each cry. Guilt washed over you, you shouldn't have treated Az like that. He didn't deserve any of it.

Tomorrow you told yourself. Tomorrow you would leave your room.

-

a/n: sobbing

[starryevermore]

it’s a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it ✧ azriel

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: azriel x vanserra!fem!reader

summary: you have a surprise for your mate. azriel takes everything horribly. 

word count: 2,743

warnings?:, angst city™ bitch, (perceived) cheating, accusations of cheating, dual povs, no happy ending (we stay sad here), there may be a part 2 if anyone asks nicely, not proofread

PART TWO

Ordinarily, you hated when Azriel would leave for long missions. Azriel loved that about you. For so many years, he longed for someone to love him in spite of himself. Throughout his life, he had so many heinous things. He always worried that his hands were stained too red for anyone to ever want to hold. But you, the only daughter of Autumn, looked him right in the eye and proudly declared that he was your mate. You looked at the darkest parts of him and found love for him anyways. And when your family, when Beron, tried to keep you from him, you ran straight into his arms anyways. You were willing to throw away everything you knew for him. Azriel would always be grateful for that. But, now, you almost seemed to want him to leave. 

You had been acting strange a few days before he left. For as long as Azriel knew you, you were fiercely independent. It was something that was appreciated because it meant you could take care of yourself when he was gone for days, weeks, even months at a time to carry out Rhysand’s will. Now, though…You would disappear for long stretches of time, give vague answers when Azriel would ask how you were doing. He supposed, as spymaster, he could figure it out for himself, or at least send some shadows to follow you, but he wanted you to tell him yourself. He needed to hear from you that everything was okay. 

That is, until he told you he was going to be away for a month on a mission. Typically when he would be gone for so long, you would hold him close and rant about how you were going to give Rhys a piece of your mind for taking your mate away. And he would kiss you and cherish the few hours he had left with you before he would have to leave. This time, you only pouted and gave him a kiss goodnight before retiring to bed. 

It was damn near impossible for him to focus on the mission after that. Had Azriel done something wrong? Had you finally reached the depths of Azriel’s darkness and decided you hated what you saw? 

He planned on talking to you as soon as he returned. He would not let you get away with vague answers. He wouldn’t rest until he got the truth about your new behavior. He had to know. 

He almost wished he hadn’t. 

When Azriel winnowed into his shared home with you, the scent of other males filled his nose. If it had been Cassian or Rhys, he would have paid it no mind. But he didn’t recognize these scents. Who had you invited into his home? 

A worse thought crept into his mind—had this been why you were so eager for him to leave? 

You grinned as a shadow alerted you to Azriel’s return home. It had been so hard to keep away from your mate, but you knew that if you allowed yourself near him, you would have spoiled the surprise. And, oh, how you wanted to surprise him. 

It wasn’t easy to keep things from the spymaster. Between his shadows and his observational skills, he had near perfect accuracy when it came to figuring out your surprises. And yet, he didn’t make any guesses or reveal that he knew what your secret plan was this entire time. It almost had you confessing. But then Azriel told you he was being sent away for a month on a mission, and you knew you could hold out until the end. 

You couldn’t keep the secret totally to yourself, of course. You told Rhys and Feyre, who helped you find a reputable group of workers to build the addition onto your home. And you told Nesta and Cassian, who caught you leaving the store with a bundle of bags. Mor guessed on her own. Amren was the one who figured it out before even you knew. Everyone agreed to keep the secret amongst themselves, on the condition that you invite them over for dinner after you finally reveal your secret to your mate. 

And the day had finally come! The workers had just finished the addition a few days before, their timing nearly perfect. 

When you felt the shadows creep up your ankles, wrapping themselves around you, you knew Azriel was home. You jumped up from your seat on the couch and ran to greet him where he stood in the dining room. 

A wide smile stretched across your face as you said, “Welcome home!”

But when you threw your arms around his neck, he didn’t move. You took a step back, watching as he glanced around your home, his nose wrinkling.

“Did the mission go alright?” you tried. 

Still, Azriel didn’t say anything. Worry began to settle in the pit of your stomach. It must have been truly awful for him to be so quiet now. While Azriel usually kept some of the more gory details to himself, he did like to talk to you about his missions. He said it helped him process the things he did. Did you need to go give Rhys a piece of your mind? 

“Az, is everything okay?”

Finally, his eyes snapped to yours. “I don’t know,” he said, his head tilting, looking at you almost like how a predator looks at its prey. “Would you be okay if you found out your mate was unfaithful?”

Your heart dropped. How could he think that? “What?”

Azriel rolled his eyes and gestured widely to the room. “You think I can’t smell the other males who have been here? Do you think I’m stupid?”

Oh. Oh no. You had glamoured your own scent, so that you might keep this all a surprise. But you didn’t think to glamour the scent of the workers. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly well that I have a whore of a mate,” he hissed. 

You reached for him. How could this go so wrong? Why wasn’t he listening to you? “Azriel, please—”

He pushed you away so hard you stumbled, your back hitting the kitchen table. His eyes flashed—with what, you weren’t sure. Certainly not regret, though. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Just listen to me, please—”

“I don’t want to listen to any of the lies you spew,” he snapped. He turned to leave. “When I come back, I expect you to be gone.”

“Azriel!”

But before you could say anymore, he was already gone.

It took everything in you to not sink to your knees and cry. Why would Azriel so easily believe you would be unfaithful to him? Why wouldn’t he let you explain? Did he truly think so little of you? You wiped your face with the back of your hand, surprised by how many tears had already fallen. 

How could Azriel look at the face of his crying mate and not even attempt to hear you out? 

You took a shuddering breath, glancing down at the one shadow that remained with you. Bile rose up in your throat. He wouldn’t listen to you, but he would leave a shadow? To what, make sure you actually left? 

Fine.

Fine, you’ll leave, if that’s what he wishes. You didn’t want to stay a minute longer with a male who thinks so lowly of his mate.  

Azriel stayed gone for a week. He retreated to Rhysand’s cabin, knowing that you wouldn’t—you couldn’t—follow him there. Unlike your brothers, you were unable to winnow. Try as you might, the skill never came for you. It had once pained him, knowing how you had to flee the Autumn Court on foot so that you could be with him. Now, though, Azriel was grateful to be able to put distance between you and him. 

The only contact Azriel had that entire week was to send a letter to Rhys, providing the details of the mission and stating that he would be away for a while. Rhys only responded to tell him to enjoy his time away. Azriel wished he could. But there was nothing enjoyable about learning of a mate’s infidelity. 

Finally, though, the limited food supply at the cabin ran low enough to justify Azriel returning to his family. He went to the River House, hoping to talk to Rhys about what had transpired. What he hadn’t expected was to be greeted with celebration. 

“Congratulations!” Feyre said when she saw him, pulling Azriel into a one-armed hug as she held Nyx on her hip.

Rhys’s lips pulled into a smirk as he approached him. “Where is that mate of yours? I believe she promised us a dinner.” 

Azriel’s heart clenched at the mention of you. As angry as he was to learn you had been unfaithful, it had broke his heart to know that he couldn't be with you again. He would never be able to trust you again. Azriel already spent his days torturing the scum of Prythian. He didn’t need to have a scourge of a mate, too. “Dinner’s cancelled for the foreseeable future,” Azriel said. 

Rhys waved him off. “Understandable. If she’s anything like Feyre was, she must constantly be sick. Whenever she’s ready, though, we would love to have dinner with her.”

Why was Rhysand so focused on dinner? A bitter part of him wondered if his brother was one of the people you took to bed. Would you do that to him, to Feyre? 

Feyre looked Azriel up and down, sensing that there was something more than what Azriel was letting on. “Have you seen her since you’ve come back?”

“I have,” Azriel said, his tone clipped. 

“And were you…excited?” she asked. 

He rolled his eyes. “Why would I be excited to learn my mate is a—” He glanced at Nyx. Though barely a year old, he probably was cognizant enough to babble swear words spoken in front of him. “—that my mate was unfaithful?”

“What are you talking about?” Rhys asked, his brows knit together. 

“I came home to a house reeking of other males. She didn’t even try to hide—”

Feyre gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Finally. Someone understood. “You didn’t—“

Rhysand’s eyes flashed. “Azriel, don’t tell me you excused her of cheating.”

“Why shouldn’t I confront her for what she did? For who she brought into our home?”

“Azriel, that female loves you. She risked her life to come to Velaris. Do you really think that she would throw that all away?” Rhys snarled. “Tell me she’s still at the house.”

“When I left a week ago, I told her to be gone. I imagine she isn’t there anymore.” Azriel frowned. “And I know, it doesn’t seem like something she would do, but the males’ scents were everywhere—”

Azriel’s head snapped to the side. He raised his hand to his face, touching his stinging skin. He looked at Feyre, his eyes widening. Did she really just hit him? Now? “You idiot!” she snapped. “Your home smelled like other males because she hired workers to build an addition while you were gone.”

“What?” Why would you do that? You had always loved the small cottage. You had once told him that the only reason you might ever choose to leave would be to grow your family. 

“She was having a nursery built,” Rhys snapped. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

It was days before you reached Autumn’s borders, and days still before you came into contact with other fae. The female fae, who found you collapsed on her family’s farm, took pity on you. Ordinarily, you would have shuddered at the mere idea of being pitied by anyone. But you were so exhausted. You weren’t sure if you could make it any further on your own. So when she ordered her husband to winnow you to the Forest House, you leaned against him and let him take you away. At the Forest House, you were passed to the arms of a sentry to one of Eris’s guards until your brother was carrying you into your old room, yelling for a healer. 

Save for trips to the bathroom and when your mother dragged you out to family dinners, you scarcely left your bed. The healer would check on you daily to ensure that you were still healthy enough to carry your child and that the child was still doing well—that the stress wasn’t killing it. You were sure the stress was killing you. Aside from her, though, you didn’t speak to anyone. You couldn’t find the energy, not even when Eris was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of what happened. 

“Did something happen with Azriel?” he asked, reaching out to pet your hair. It had been something he often did when you were younger whenever you were upset. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and rolled over, turning your back to Eris. It was the first time anyone had said his name. Whenever the healer would come, she would make remarks about “the father”. But she never said his name. As for your mother and brothers, they mostly kept to themselves. Whether it was to give you time to heal or out of fear of you breaking down, you weren’t sure. 

“Did he hurt you?” Eris asked.

“Not like Father did,” you whispered. It hurt to speak. Your vocal cords strained. You swallowed, trying to alleviate the pain. It didn’t help.

 His hand paused at your answer. When he spoke again, his voice was tight, like it pained him to think your mate could hurt you. “What did the bastard do?” 

Part of you wanted to say nothing. Reliving that pain was too much, and you doubted it would be good for the baby. But now that you had spoken, you doubted that Eris would let you continue your vow of silence. “He accused me of infidelity.”

You glanced over your shoulder, watching as Eris’s eyes turned to slits. You rolled back over and reached for his hand. It was warm, like his fire was just below the surface. “And you let him live after such an accusation?”

“He wouldn’t listen. Was so sure of it that it didn’t matter what I said.” Your eyes welled up with tears. Though you were no stranger to crying in front of your brother, you prayed you wouldn’t do it now. It felt too pathetic—crying over a male. “I had an addition built to the cottage. He smelt the workers’ scents and thought the worst.” 

Eris opened his mouth. You braced yourself for the fire that was about to spew from his mouth. A knock on the door, however, stopped him in his tracks. Both of you looked over as your mother stepped into the room, a piece of paper pinched between her fingers. Eris rose to his feet, then closed the distance between them. “What is it?”

“It’s a letter from the Night Court. The High Lord is inquiring about her whereabouts.”

You glanced down at the shadow, still twisted around your wrist. Huh. Maybe Azriel didn’t leave the shadow behind to monitor you. Otherwise, there would be no need to look for you. The shadow could easily slither back to its master, whisper that you were hiding in the Forest House. A smile tugged at your lips. Even if this killed you, it did bring you some modicum of joy to know the shadows were turning their back on Azriel. 

Your mother and Eris looked to you for any sign of how to respond. Letting out a breath, you pushed yourself up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You tightened the robe around your waist as you strode over to them. “Tell them that I am safe,” you said, “and that any further correspondence is unnecessary and unwanted.”

Then, you walked past them to your wardrobe, plucked a dress and retreated to the bathroom. You were done wallowing in self-pity. If your mate didn’t want you anymore, that was fine. You could learn to live with this. But you won’t allow yourself to become a husk. Not when you had a babe you would need to care for. 

As you shut the door, you heard Eris say, “Tell the High Lord that if the shadowsinger dares to sniff around our borders, I will have his wings mounted to my wall.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

PART TWO

[the-darkestminds]

addicted to making strong, cold, stoic male characters break down and sob uncontrollably in fan fiction

[k-daydreams]

The pursuit of Feeling Alive: I. Intro

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader, PLATONIC!IC x reader

Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.

Warnings: trauma, swearing, pining, angst?

Word Count: 4.8k

Author note: this is my first acotar fic! It was originally going to be a singular self indulgent azriel fic, but I can’t ever get to the point and I got too many ideas. Definitely not very canon with the timeline of series I think lol, just going to throw that out there. I’ve already rough drafted another chapter and thought I’d share the work on here. Feel free to share your thoughts! If you’d like to be added to a tag list let me know!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

Internally, you teetered on the edge of a nervous breakdown, ready to tear yourself apart from within. Externally, you wore a mask of cold calculation, hoping no one could detect your distress and near senility. Earlier in the day, your cousin Mor had mentioned that her high lord and your other dear cousin, Rhysand, had matters to discuss with your high lord, Helion. The reason for their meeting was of no concern to Mor to bother filling you in.

Your heart thumped against your chest, unsure of what to expect. It had been over fifty years since the Day Court and Night Court had engaged in official business since the end of Amarantha's reign of terror. You had seen Rhysand during the time under the mountain, where you spent nearly half a century with him until Feyre saved Prythian. Still holding visits with him after to report to him along with Mor, thanks to her frequent visits to Helion. However, the rest of the court, especially those you hadn't met since after Amarantha and Hybern, remained a mystery, with only Mor's updates for context.

Following your time under the mountain, you chose to reside in the Day Court under Helion's rule as an emissary between the two Solar Courts. It served as a means to shield yourself from feeling too deeply, allowing you to focus on healing from the traumatic events you endured during those fifty years. There were other matters you had yet to confront and come to terms with, voluntarily choosing to ignore them. By hiding away and conducting your business mainly with Mor and Rhys, you could maintain a sense of avoidance of your once home.

Now, in the dining hall of the palace where Helion and his inner court resided—including yourself—you found yourself on edge. Regardless of the pressing matters at hand, your high lord insisted on hosting a dinner for his court and other high fae to publicly display the alliance between the Night Court and the Day Court. Standing next to Helion's chair in the center of the room, you observed the lively chatter among the gathered individuals.

Your hands were clasped tightly in front of you, nervously inspecting your gown for nonexistent dirt, attempting to conceal your jitters. The gown itself could remind anyone of the place you resided and wanted to consider your new home. It was an off-the-shoulder nude gown with gossamer sleeves cascading around your arms. The bodice, nearly transparent, accentuated your bust, adorned with soft gold crystals intricately arranged over your body. The long skirts consisted of layers of gossamer, featuring two long slits up the front that revealed your legs. You appeared ethereal and angelic.

"You seem on edge," Helion called out to you, pulling you out of your internal thoughts. Your eyes scanned the room, observing every movement, before turning your attention to the main entrance. He gently traced his finger beneath the dainty black diamond bracelet adorning your wrist, bringing your attention back. This bracelet, along with matching pieces around your neck and ears, showed your affiliation with the visiting court. You wore them out of respect for your older cousins, never daring to show your true affection openly—a facade to conceal your true self. You knew they would appreciate it if they noticed.

"The Night Court was your home, was it not?" He questioned, his tone casual, as he glanced over his shoulder at the other members of the inner court to make sure they weren’t listening. Adjusting his shirt cuffs to his well-matched button-down very similar color to yours, he exuded regality from head to toe.

You mumbled stoically, "Was." Clearing your throat tentatively, your eyes returned to the main doors. "This is my home now, serving under your rule. I can't afford to be anything but cautious when the Night Court wishes to discuss an unknown matter."

You didn’t miss the way his eyes rolled. "Always playing this game, aren't you?" Helion scolded playfully. “There's no need to keep up the act. Rhys's actions beneath the mountain spoke volumes for our court."

You thought to yourself, 'But my actions don't, and I'd rather keep it that way.' Aloud, you replied smoothly, "One can't appear too soft when the Night Court steps through that door." The lie slipped easily from your lips.

"Are we referring to the whole court now or the spymaster we both have eyes for?" Helion hummed, reclining slightly in his chair as he took a sip of fae wine from his chalice-like glass. Damn him.

"I have no eyes for any man, particularly not a brute Illyrian man. And especially not one I've been watching wrestle with my cousin since we were young children," you retorted, feeling a surge of unease and clenching your jaw at the assumption.

"That's a match I would give up all my powers to witness," the handsome, dark-skinned lord purred, his words aimed at you.

You wanted to snap at him, your patience wearing thin at the mere mention of the tall Illyrian warrior. However, you managed to keep your composure in check. "It's hardly a match; Rhys won every time."

As if on cue, you felt the energy of several individuals entering the palace. Rhysand always loved a dramatic entrance. "Excellent, our guests have arrived," you murmured, straightening your shoulders as best as you could.

Helion followed suit, sitting more upright in his chair at the center of the hall. The rest of the inner court took their positions standing.

The sentries opened the doors for the guests. Morrigan was the first to enter, her golden hair elegantly curled, and she delightedly took you in before blinking a few times, returning to her sultry expression. Her red gown fitted her perfectly: a strapless piece that flowed around her as she walked. Following her was a sight you hadn't expected since hearing the gossip from Mor—Lucien Vanserra, adorned in deep autumnal colors that complemented his complexion and long, tidy red hair. He was an old confidant of yours when you had stayed in the spring court. You couldn't help but find it amusing, but you maintained a composed demeanor, concealing your bemusement at how out of place in the night court he seemed.

After Lucien came two beautiful high fae women. The younger one on the left wore a flowing champagne pink gown that accentuated her slim waist and showcased her porcelain fair skin. Her light brown hair was adorned with crystals and flowers, and she wore dainty opal teardrop earrings that complimented her brown eyes. On the right stood another woman in a form-fitting navy dress that subtly shimmered with every movement. The gown highlighted her curves and bust, while a sapphire-like sciphon necklace adorned her neck. Her darker brown hair was elegantly pinned up with a silver circlet. These must have been the High Lady's sisters, Elain and Nesta, whom you had heard so much about. Nesta's eyes had a hint of danger and coldness, while Elain's were filled with awe as they observed the dining hall.

Cassian followed the two women, and you discreetly coughed to suppress a snort. He appeared cleaned up, wearing a navy tunic and dark linen pants, with his hair slicked back and neatly tied. This was a different version of him from the rugged general you were accustomed to, not dressed in his usual fighting leathers to a formal affair. His siphons were cleverly disguised as jewelry pieces, and he had politely tucked back his larger wings. He seemed out of place as much as Lucien, but his mischievous eyes locked with yours, indicating he might have had similar thoughts about you.

Before you could even see her, you sensed Amren's piercing gaze from behind Cassian's towering figure. Her glowing silver eyes held an inscrutable expression, and her lips formed a slight grimace. She wore her usual grey color in a slip gown that elegantly draped down in the front. Though not dressed as extravagantly as the others, her presence demanded attention. A touch of red lipstick and a slightly tousled hairstyle were enough to enhance her beauty. You could see the rest of Helion’s inner court murmur from your peripheral, the usual whispers about the millennia’s old creature stalking towards them.

Rhysand made his entrance with the high lady from beside him, exuding confidence and power. He wore his customary dark attire that accentuated his commanding presence. His violet eyes locked with yours for a fleeting moment before he turned his attention to Helion. Feyre held her head high, a diadem hanging on the crown of her head, and her hair half up half down in loose waves. Her dress off the shoulder shone in sapphire crystals making it look like stars had been entwined on the gown. She was gorgeous as a mortal even when she was malnourished when you saw her under the mountain, but as a high fae she was even more devastating.

Last of the group, you spotted Azriel, his shadows swirling subtly around him, and your breath caught in your throat. His shadows slinked up his dark tunic clad shoulder seeming to whisper in his ear. He looked over at you making eye contact discreetly. His features were hard but something unreadable in his eyes as he observed you. You didn’t miss the slight bob of his throat as he looked quickly away to a distant corner in the room acting stoic. His hair was pushed back showing his sharp jawline, and you could see his tattoos peeking out his shirt. His silent and brooding presence always managed to unnerve you, unable to get a good read on what could’ve been going through his head. You refused to let your guard down, not wanting to think about the shadowsinger that stood mere feet away. This had been the first time you have seen each other in person since you were able to leave under the mountain.

The Night Court all stood in front of Helion, and he bowed his head in greeting. You did the same along with the rest of the inner court. The introductions began, and the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. Helion gracefully welcomed his guests, exchanging pleasantries and acknowledging the significance of the meeting. You observed the interactions, keeping a blank face despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. It felt like you were looking into your old life from the outside watching the inner circle, and your heart ached for a second.

Eventually, it was time for you to step forward and join the introductions. As you approached Rhysand, his gaze never wavered from yours. His lips curved into a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the past. You stood before him, your heart pounding, but your expression remained composed.

"High Lord Rhysand," you greeted him, keeping your tone neutral and titles formal. "It has been a while."

His voice was smooth as he responded, “Y/n, always a pleasure. Allow me to introduce my wife and High Lady, Feyre.”

You bowed respectfully to the High Lady. “I am in awe, Feyre Cursebreaker. What an honor to have you grace the Day Court with your presence.”

A smile graced her lips in response. “Thank you for the warm welcome. I have heard so much about you, Y/n.” She took your hands in hers, and you were taken aback by the warm informal gesture. Your gaze fell upon the intricate tattoo adorning her hand and forearm, and in that moment, your heart swelled with joy for your cousin, and you dared to steal a glance at Rhys. His eyes were already fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle hints of tenderness and anticipation shining within them. You were so happy for him.

The formalities continued, and you exchanged polite words with Lucien, Elain, and Nesta. You longed for a chance to sit down and talk with them, to hear about their experiences since being freed from the cauldron. Your gaze wandered momentarily to Lucien, who stood near Morrigan, his amber eyes briefly glancing in your direction. A flicker of recognition passed between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of shared history. You had both suffered under the rule of the Spring Court, and it was a trauma you preferred to keep buried for now. But you couldn’t deny that you treasured the moments the young emissary had kept you sane within the trauma.

You stood next to Helion along with another Day Court emissary as Rhys, Amren, and Helion discussed some political topics. Deep down, you yearned for a moment alone with the inner circle, away from the prying eyes and expectations. But for now, you had to focus on the diplomatic matters at hand and navigate the complexities of the gathering. As the conversations flowed around you, you remained attentive, gathering information and assessing the dynamics between the courts.

Throughout the evening, conversations flowed, alliances were strengthened, and unspoken words hung heavy in the air. You played your part, engaging in polite conversation and maintaining the facade of an emissary, all the while battling the internal storm raging within you. It was beginning to wear on you though. Watching from afar at how Mor mingled with Nesta and Cassian. The Illyrian man had his arm around the oldest Archeon sister as they nodded and chuckled at Mor, and you wanted to smile. You had never expected Cassian finding a mate before you, but here you were.

A lot has changed since you had left indeed, and the longing you felt came back.

“You’re not my prisoner, you know. Feel free to mingle,” Helion’s voice chimed from behind, breaking through your thoughts.

“Isn’t that a bit informal?” you responded, sipping your glass of wine.

He arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “To talk at a party?” He snatched your wine from your hand.

You turned to face him, reaching for your half-filled glass that he held teasingly away from you. “Ah, don’t you think it’s a bit informal for an emissary to get drunk?” He added a playful spark in his eyes.

“To drink at a party?” You volleyed back, grinning mischievously as you continued your playful struggle for the glass.

“Why don’t you practice the talking part with Rhysand?” Helion suggested, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It seems like he’s eager to have a word with his dear cousin.” He gestured subtly behind you, and amidst the revelry and banter, Rhysand and Feyre made their way toward you both. However, before you could react, your gaze caught Azriel’s intense hazel eyes from their table behind the approaching couple, where he sat next to Elain. His massive wings appeared tense and uncomfortably confined by the chair. Elain chatted with him, but it seemed his attention was elsewhere, fixated on you. His shadows still whispered in his ear as one crept across the table.You resisted the urge to shudder, maintaining your composure, and quickly turned your attention back to Helion, whose grin remained firmly in place.

“Helion, may we borrow Y/n for a moment?” Rhysand inquired, one eyebrow raised, his gaze flickering between you and Helion.

Helion practically pushed you into Feyre’s arms. “Go ahead, I was just informing her that she’s free from her duties until later!” he announced with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The tips of your ears burned with embarrassment as you realized his intent to encourage your mingling.

“Thank you, My Lord,” you replied, bowing your head with a touch of sarcasm. Rhysand extended his arm, and you looped yours through it, allowing him to guide you towards their table. A nervous gulp betrayed your anticipation.

Feyre looked at you with concern. “Are you alright?” she asked, her tone gentle and caring.

“May we speak on the balcony?” you requested, your voice filled with meekness.

“Of course, it’s getting a bit warm in here,” Rhysand agreed, leading the three of you towards the balcony bathed in soft faelight.

You all leaned casually against the balcony railing, observing the lively feast taking place inside.

"How's the Day Court treating you?" he asked in a relaxed tone, as if to put you at ease. Away from prying eyes, you felt your shoulders relax. It felt good to be with your cousin where you both didn’t have to wear a mask.

"Well," you replied, "the Day Court doesn't quite compare to the beauty of the Night Court, but the days are undeniably bright." You struggled to find a suitable comparison for the Day Court's allure to the Night Court.

Rhys and Feyre almost snorted out their wine, their amusement evident. "I wonder why," Rhys sarcastically murmured.

Choosing to ignore your cousin's comment, you continued, "I've been making progress translating some texts for the court, and delving into a lot of reading.”

It seemed as though the High Lord and Lady expected to hear more and urged you to continue, but they realized you had nothing more to share.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Wow, that sounds like quite a lot," he remarked. You could tell he wanted to throw a snide remark, but a warning look from his mate kept him at bay. Where was Feyre centuries ago when you always found to be the butt of your cousin's jokes?

You shrugged. "Keeps me distracted." From your vantage point, you had a perfect view of the inner circle's table. Mor, Amren, Azriel, Lucien, Nesta, and Cassian were all seated there, drinking and picking at their food. Helion even made sure Amren had a chalice of beast's blood. You missed being a part of that group, laughing and sharing moments with them. The only person in the Day Court you truly felt comfortable with was Helion, and even that remained behind closed doors.

"Come home," the words made your shoulders tense. It wasn't your cousin who had spoken, but Feyre. You looked at her, finding understanding in her eyes, as if she knew what you were going through.

Your gaze wandered back to the inner circle. Your eyes fell on Azriel, who was listening with a ghost of a smile on his lips, as Cassian animatedly spoke, his wings flaring about and nearly knocking over Lucien's wine glass. The group tried to hide their laughter while Amren scolded them. Azriel's shadows discreetly moved the glass out of Cassian's wingspan, hiding his amusement.

"They miss you," Rhys genuinely expressed. "I miss you, and even the House misses you." Tears welled up, tightening your throat. "He won’t say it out loud, but he misses you too."

You didn't need to be told who he was. You knew.

"I didn't even say goodbye," you spoke with a heavy heart, guilt washing over you.

"That was over fifty years ago, Y/n," Rhys reminded you gently.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We have texts for you to translate if it’s a means to keep you busy, we could even have you train with Madja. Want an apartment on the opposite side of town from the House of Wind? Consider it done. Desire a cottage in the middle of nowhere? It's yours. Just please, stop running away," Rhys pleaded.

You felt tears welling up, but you willed them away. "I... I just can't leave," you stammered. You could feel your heart torn.

"You can," Feyre said sympathetically, holding your hands. "Helion asked us to come and talk to you."

"We won't force you, but he mentioned that you've changed in the last few years," Rhys added. Feyre's grip on your hands tightened.

"Please talk to them maybe and think about it?" she requested. You knew she meant the inner circle.

Biting your lip, you contemplated. "I'll find you in a bit. I need some time alone."

With a nod, Rhysand and Feyre understood your need for solitude. They exchanged a brief glance before making their way back inside, leaving you alone on the balcony.

Leaning against the railing, you let the cool evening breeze brush against your skin, smell of wildflower and honey in the air, the quietness of the moment allowing your thoughts to swirl. Images of your past, the friendships you had forged and the bonds you had left behind, filled your mind. The longing in your heart grew stronger with each passing second your family stood in the same room as you. A longing you pushed deep down when you were still under the mountain, uncertain of seeing your loved ones again.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to not let tears slip. It was true that you had changed over the years, that the weight of your experiences had shaped you into someone different. But running away had only prolonged the pain, and you knew it was time to confront it. If your cousins had endured the pain, you were sure you could too.

Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the railing, determination igniting within you. You couldn't stay on the sidelines any longer. The inner circle had always been your family, even if circumstances had driven you apart. And now, as you stood on the cusp of a decision, you realized that it was time to bridge that gap.

Stepping back inside, you navigated through the crowd, searching for the familiar faces you had missed dearly. You found them at their table, still engaged in their playful banter, laughter filling the air. Taking a deep breath, you approached, your footsteps faltering only slightly.

As you reached the table, a hush fell over the group, their gazes turning towards you. Azriel's eyes locked with yours, and the shadows around him seemed to ripple, as though mirroring the tumultuous emotions within you.

"Can I join you?" you asked softly, your voice carrying a blend of trepidation and hope.

The response was immediate and overwhelming. Cassian's boisterous laughter echoed as he clapped you on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of you. Nesta's sharp gaze softened for a brief moment, Elain offered a warm but wary smile, and Lucien's amber eyes held surprise. Morrigan's voice was a welcoming melody as she pulled out a chair for you, and Amren, in her own enigmatic way, nodded approvingly.

Taking your seat among them, you couldn't help but feel a sense of homecoming. And as you settled into the comfort of their presence, you could feel your frozen heart just dethaw slightly.

“Y/n, I knew you were always shy, but around us?” Mor teased you endearingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You look so beautiful tonight!” She gushed, her words filled with genuine admiration as she played with a strand of your hair. “The dress would be better in a darker color though.” She whispered the last part so only you and the inner circle could hear, her voice laced with a conspiratorial tone.

“The gown color does wash you out,” Amren chimed in, her bored expression not fully hiding a hint of amusement.

A laugh bubbled out of your chest, surprising even yourself. "Not the first thing I thought I would hear from you in years," you quipped, a playful smile tugging at your lips. Amren raise her glass to you before taking a sip of the thick liquid in the cup.

“Better than that raggedy spring court piece you came back in, though," Rhysand interjected, his voice filled with playful banter as he and Feyre settled into the extra seats at the table. The original inner circle chuckled at the memory.

Despite that being one of the worst days of your life, you couldn't help but smile too. The shared laughter brought a warmth to the air, softening the edges of past wounds.

“You should’ve seen the dress I came to the Night Court in," Feyre chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Another monstrosity by Ianthe," Lucien muttered into his glass before taking a sip, his voice tinged with a touch of disdain. Your eyes widened at the snide comment, but the group erupted into laughter, momentarily forgetting the weight of your burdens.

As the night wore on, Helion raised his glass, signaling a toast to the alliance between the two courts. The hall fell silent, and you raised your glass as well, a faint smile playing at the corner of your lips. The toast created a joyous noise as everyone in attendance drank, and the music started playing. Mor instantly beamed and grabbed Feyre’s hand, followed by Elain, leading them to the dance floor. Rhysand and Lucien joined them, their steps filled with a carefree grace. Cassian took Nesta’s hand, and they followed suit. Amren excused herself to converse with the emissary from the Day Court with a request of Azriel to accompany her.

You turned to Mor, insisting you would join them shortly, as you wished to find Helion. She nodded understandingly, giving you a knowing smile as she disappeared into the swirling crowd. You made your way toward Helion, feeling the warmth of the night and the drinks starting to loosen your tongue and heart.

“Do you wish to get rid of me so easily?” you feigned offense, walking up to his side. The merriment of the evening had given you a newfound boldness. Your body hadn’t felt this light in ages. Your gaze met his, and a flicker of understanding passed between you.

Helion shook his head, a gentle smile gracing his features. “No, darling, never. I just think your heart belongs somewhere else.” His words were filled with gentle encouragement. He patted the arm of his chair, offering you a seat upon the rest. With an eye roll and a smile, you accepted, settling into the plush chair arm.

"Your presence is lovely, your duty is commendable, but I couldn't sit here watching you turn to stone any longer," Helion continued, his voice filled with genuine concern. His finger absentmindedly found the wrist under your bracelet, his touch a feather-light brush against your skin. A wave of warmth washed over you, and the faint scent of wildflowers drifted through the air.

"Besides, maybe it's time you face a certain Illyrian man," he whispered discreetly, his words carrying a hint of suggestion.

You looked at him, confusion swirling within you. His eyes subtly glanced over to the corner, and you followed his gaze. Azriel stood behind Amren, his intense gaze fixed on Helion and you. His jaw was clenched, and his wings were taut with tension, as if holding back an impending storm. The sight of him sent a jolt of both excitement and apprehension through your veins.

"I can't ignore those ravenous stares, knowing he wants to rip me to shreds, and not in the way I like," he added, teasingly toying with your bracelet as if oblivious to Azriel's presence. The Day Court High Lord knew exactly what he was doing it seemed. Azriel couldn’t have been glaring at Helion; it had to be you. Memories of your past argument with Azriel flashed through your mind, the intensity of the argument still fresh. You had both nearly destroyed each other. You hadn’t ever heard you two speak so many volatile and vulgar things— especially at each other.

"I could never forgive him for what he said," you sighed. "What's even worse is that I can't forgive myself for what I did, not only to him, but to my family. I feel responsible for my ex-husband's actions towards them." You admitted, realizing that you had never spoken those words aloud before.

Beside you, the lord sucked his teeth in retort. "You can't blame yourself for what your father put you through by selling you to that pretty little beast." He sat up straighter and looked at you earnestly. "Nobody blames you, Y/n." You found yourself unabashedly staring back at Azriel as he was still looking at the interaction between you and the high lord.

“We all carry burdens from our past, but we mustn't let them define our future," he said gently. "You were caught in a web spun by others, but you have the strength to break free. It's time to forgive yourself and embrace the healing you deserve."

You nodded nimbly, biting your lip in contemplation. You would always hold gratitude for Helion. His kindness you’ve experienced for the last several years was more than what you deserved and needed, but he still provided it. If you returned to the night court you wouldn’t have known where you stood in the court. What your rank would be, what your friends thought of you, and where to even pick back up in your life. You just knew you haven’t felt this alive in awhile, and you craved the feeling.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

[x] next chapter

Let me know your thoughts, and feel free to like and reblog! I might change the title but that’s tbd.

[lady-embers]

Let's start a thread....

If you read fan fics, what is your favorite Elucien and/or Gwynriel one? And where can one read it at?

Right now I'm loving The Bargain by HeadCanonHeadCase on AO3. It's based off the Off-Campus series by Elle Kennedy & in it Azriel is the Hockey Captain and needs Gwyn's help for a course while she needs his to get the notice of another guy. Little do they know things would lead to more between them. Y'all should check it out if you haven't already!

Comment or reblog so others can see your favorite/recommendation!! 💖 🌻

[elrielbaby]

Hello, everyone!

This is my new multi chapter elriel fic, inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean. It is obviously heavy on the elriel but will also include feysand and a smattering of Nessian. I’ll include little snippets, and then a link to A03 for the rest - I hope that’s okay ☺️ I hope to get the chapters out weekly. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Elain

Lady Elain Archeron sat before her mahogany wood dresser as her lady’s maid pinned and twisted her hair into a shape it was determined not to be put into. She felt as though she was being scalped, so she allowed her mind to wander.

Today was an important day not just for her family, but for all inhabitants of the continent of Prythian. Their family friend, Lucien, was having his ascension ceremony to be formally recognised as the High Lord of Autumn Court. He had of course, already been chosen as High Lord by the mysterious magic that decided such things, but this was but one of the first of many steps taken by the Fae in order to assimilate with the Humans and earn their trust.

With the war against Amarantha, or the War of the Red Queen as it was being more commonly referred to having destroyed the wall that separated the Fae and the Human lands, and with no way of repairing it, negotiations between the Fae and the Humans had begun no later than one day after the final battle. Peace and protection of the humans was the top priority. The tales of the cruelty of the Fae had not been exaggerated. Their brutality was infamous, and the Humans were rightly terrified and reluctant to trust them. Some of the Fae, on the other hand, still believed Humans to be beneath them, as lowly and filthy as worms, and did not want to share with them their land or riches. If not for the Archeron sisters, perhaps things would have gone differently. Not only were they pivotal in defeating Amarantha, they were now also Fae. Their youngest sister Feyre, through the sacrificing of her own life. Elain and Nesta had been forcibly made Fae by the magnificent and terrible Cauldron. The very though of the Cauldron threatened to bring Elain back to the place she had been in after her making. She quickly shoved the thought away.

Of course, with being turned Fae, they all now had access to the unfettered strength and power that belonged to them. Yet another reason why their influence on negotiations had been essential to the newfound, albeit tentative, peace they found themselves in.

[vacant--body]

stay with me pt 5

<azriel x ofc>

warnings: angst. lots of it. SH kinda, mentions of suîćîdë

part one, part two, part three, part four

✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖°

Azriel couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe. The overwhelming tightness was strangling his lungs, crushing his already broken heart. And someone was screaming, he couldn’t hear anything over the screaming.

Where was he, anyway?

He tried to take in his surroundings, to see where and what was going on. But his vision was so fucking blurry he couldn’t make out anything other than the outline of people. They were standing over him, trying to haul him up. Apparently he was laying on the ground, clutching something wet and warm to his chest. But the pain, which radiated over his entire body, wouldn’t let him move, even if he wanted to. It hurt too much.

“Azriel!” Someone screamed.

He felt the sting of a slap land across his face, and suddenly the whole world came back into focus.

It was Azriel that was screaming, voice raw. His vision cleared, of what he realized were tears, and the grief stricken faces of his family appeared. And he also realized he was speaking, repeating the same words over and over again.

“No, no, no!”

“Stay with me!”

All consuming anguish slammed into him. Ophelia was dead. Ophelia, his mate. His fucking mate, was dead. Azriel couldn’t feel her on the other side of the bond anymore. Couldn’t feel her chest rise with life-saving air, he just couldn’t feel her. Her beautiful eyes would never open, her mouth would never tip to the side with a cheeky smile, and he wouldn’t ever get to hear his name on his lips again.

Dead.

He held onto her tighter, how he should have all those nights ago. He should have told her everything when he had the chance, should have beared his fucking soul to her. Even if she had rejected him, he still should have told her.

“Madja is on her way.” Azriel heard someone say. He was so lost in his agony he had no idea who was speaking. “Azriel, we need you to let her go”

A primal snarl tore from his lips, and they backed away, hands up in a placating gesture.

“You’re going to have to knock him out.” Another said.

“I know. I’m just afraid of what he’ll do when he wakes.”

Cool hands grabbed onto his temple and Azriel thrashed, trying to throw whoever that was off of him. He was like a raging wild animal, like something out of the Middle. He was no longer the calm and collected male like everyone knew. It was pure carnal rage.

Long, razor sharp claws tore their way through his minds shield, destroying them to get inside. Azriel screamed louder, blood trickling from his nose. The sounds of his family faded away, so all that was left was the sound of soft spoken voices, cooing and hushing him. Lulling him to sleep. He fought, pushing back against those claws. But they only held on tighter.

Slowly, he slumped to the ground, arms falling away from Ophelia’s bleeding body.

And sleep consumed him.

✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖°

Azriel woke with a start, like something had scared him out of his deep slumber. That hadn’t been a normal sleep, it was only darkness with him floating forever in the nothingness. But he still felt pain raging all over his body. The pain of the mating bond breaking, slowly fading away into nothing.

Would that be all that’s left? Nothing?

He sat up sluggishly, the joints in his body popping and cracking. He was no longer out in that cursed field, but tucked into his room in the House of Wind. His bloody leathers had been stripped from his body, replaced with leisure clothes. Someone had changed and bathed him, as he saw no signs of her blood anywhere on his body. How long had he been out?

Getting to his feet, he walked towards the door. But he stopped as he passed the mirror, seeing his ghastly reflection. Azriel studied himself, hating what stared back. His wings now dragged behind him, the talons scraping the floor. There were deep purple marks under his bloodshot eyes, like he had been crying while he slept. And he looked incredibly pale, skin taking on a sickly pallor.

The look of someone with an utterly shattered heart. That’s what he looked like now.

A messy knot of emotions rose up his throat and Azriel stumbled, grasping the wood of the dressing table. His shoulders shook with each deep inhale he took, but it just seemed like he couldn’t catch his breath. His fingers gripped the wood so tightly that they turned white. He just couldn’t get his head clear, couldn’t stop hearing her broken cries.

Whimpering with frustration, he lashed out, his closed fist connecting with the mirror. It exploded into a thousand tiny pieces, small shards embedding themselves in his knuckles. Thick red blood seeped out of his wounds, but already his Illyrian healing was trying to take control. He watched numbly as his cuts turned pink with new skin, but was instantly shredded back open by the glass.

Suddenly, the door flew open and Cassian rushed in. He halted in his tracks, taking in the scene of his brother standing there with a shattered mirror and blood running down his hand.

“You’re awake.” He croaked, eyes misty with unshed tears.

Azriel didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up a scrap of linen and wrapped it around his knuckles to staunch the bleeding.

“You’ll need that cleaned out, there’s glass-”

“No.” Azriel snarled.

“Az…” Cassian tried, taking small steps in his direction.

“I said no!” His teeth flashed. “Fuck the glass, fuck everything! There is nothing left for me here, my mate is fucking dead. DEAD. And I might as well join her!”

They both stood there in deafening silence, just staring at each other. The realization of what Azriel had just admitted struck Cassian like a slap. His breath hitched in his chest, and Cassians mouth opened and closed, as if he were a fish out of water, trying to think of something to say. But there was nothing he could say that would take away this hurt.

“But she lives.”

Except that.

Azriels head snapped towards his brother, eyes going so wide that they almost popped straight out of his head.

“What?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Madja brought her back. She’ still unconscious but-”

Azriel didn’t stick around to hear the rest of what he said, because he burst past Cassian, sprinting towards her room. Alive? She was alive? He couldn’t wrap his destroyed thoughts around it. He had felt the bond break, and watched her take her last breath, how could she be alive? This had to be some type of cruel joke his brothers were playing on him, there was no way-

He opened Ophelia’s bedroom door so hard that it bounced off the wall, hinges rattling with the force. He took a step, and then another, before his knees gave out. But Rhys was there, catching him under his arm, and kept him upright.

“Easy, brother.” His voice was soft, softer than he had ever heard it.

What Azriel saw confused him. Ophelia was there, laying on her bed as if she was sleeping. She had been washed and changed just as Azriel had, no traces of blood remaining on her. Feyre and Madja stood on the other side of the bed, and the two stared at him, unsure of what his next move would be.

“How?” Azriel’s voice broke, and for the millionth time that day, tears rushed to his eyes.

“We got to her just in time.” Madja was there, putting various medical supplies back into a bag. The old female turned to Feyre and said something under her breath. But his shadows heard her.

Watch him. The bond hasn’t returned, and I’m afraid he’ll do something…something I can’t heal.

Feyre nodded and thanked the healer before dismissing her.

“How are you feeling, Az?” Feyre asked, and just then Rhys released the grip he had on Azriels arm.

But he didn’t hear her. Instead, he slowly crept towards the edge of Ophelia’s bed. She looked so incredibly peaceful, like the events of the past week hadn't happened at all.

He took her slender hand in his, and it was so cold. He supposed that was normal considering how much blood she had lost. They had been laying in a puddle of it. And still, it just didn’t seem possible that she was alive.

“Why hasn’t the bond returned?” Azriel whispered, scared that if spoke too loud it would wake her.

“Madja said it would take time.” Rhys said, coming to his side.

Time. If there was anything Azriel knew how to do was wait. He had waited his entire life for Ophelia, he could wait just a little bit longer. So, he grabbed a reclining chair and dragged it to the side of her bed, and plopped down in it.

“What are you doing?” Feyre asked softly.

“Waiting.”

✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖°

Three things were clear to Ophelia as she laid in the eternal darkness.

One, her mother was Lady of the Autumn Court and her father was Lord of the Day Court, and Lucien was her brother.

Two, her entire body was screaming in pain. It was a never ending barrage, it felt she was being set on fire over and over again. It felt like she was being stripped of her flesh, and someone was sticking needles in the exposed skin.

Three, Azriel was her mate.

Mate.

The cauldron had blessed and cursed her with a mate. And out of everyone, in the entirety of Prythian, it was him. Azriel.

His name on her tongue felt like taking a cold, refreshing gulp of water. It felt like life, death, and everything in between. Something as big as ruling the world seemed possible with him by her side, or even just getting out of bed for the day. Knowing that he was there, waiting for her. She could do it all.

But where was he?

He wasn’t here with her, in this endless pit of dark nothingness. But she could sense him, his scent lingering on the tip of her nose. It was smokey and sweet, the boldness of each taste coming together each time, it was intoxicating. Like she could drown in him, but he would be there to keep her afloat.

Ophelia could feel him now. He was so close but yet so far away. It felt like she could reach out and touch him, but when she tried, her body screamed in protest. Everything hurt. Every miniscule movement that was made had her already exhausted mind slip farther and farther into the darkness.

So she laid there, feeling nothing and everything. Waiting for her mate.

Azriel.

[eveysreadingcorner]

I’m in love with a fictional character 😭

[duskcowboy]

“A Taste of Her” —

Was bored at work so I wrote a little elriel fic just for fun! Not sure if I’ll add to it later or write anything else, but please lmk if you enjoy! 💗

Elain is unlike anyone Azriel had ever encountered. While subdued, her personality is absolutely radiant and magnetic. And if you didn’t pay attention, you’d miss it—the small quips that expose her true personality, the wittiness in her humor, and the unrelenting strength of her heart. But Azriel pays attention. He sees everything, especially when it comes to the doe-eyed dreamer.

Azriel couldn’t help but be drawn in by her gentle nature—her comforting presence. From the moment he saw her white-knuckled grip on her fork at their first meeting, he'd felt a shift. No, it was even before that. He remembers the ringing that echoed in his head shortly before, as he and Cassian first laid eyes upon Elain and Nesta. It had caused them to go utterly still. He had dismissed it then, still too captivated by his adolescent infatuation with Mor. But when Elain had asked him about flying with that innocent curiosity of hers, he couldn’t stop the words flowing from his mouth. She had that effect on people. One that compelled you to spout poetry just to make her smile. Or at least, for Azriel she did.

He can never stop his gaze from lingering on her whenever she is near. He noticed the way her smile always begins with a small tug on the right side of her lips, slowly blooming into a full grin that sucks the air right out of his chest, the way her eyes sparkle when she talks about her sisters or her garden plans, and the way a small crease appears in her brow any time she gets frustrated or concentrates. He has to fight the urge to plant a kiss there each time he sees it.

He often watches her from the second-story window as she toils in the garden. Her hands working the soil, Azriel’s eyes trace every delicate movement, every loving touch she places on her creations. He can’t help but feel the ghost of her soft touch on his skin that lingers from the times he led her out to that very same garden not long ago.

His eyes glance to his brutally scarred hands. She had once called them beautiful. He couldn’t understand what would make her believe such a thing, but a subtle heat warms his cheeks at the memory of her quiet affection, and he longs to take her hand in his once more.

The same longing comes calling when he catches glimpses of her baking in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Clouds of flour forming in the air, he gazes at her hands kneading the dough, then slipping on oven mitts and softly placing her work in the hot oven.

He watches her decorate the various sweets and he notices how each time she finishes icing the last of a batch, she finally allows herself to take a taste. Azriel can’t tear his gaze away as she lifts her dainty fingers to her rosy lips, nor can he stop himself from imagining his tongue taking their place, from wanting that small taste of her.

Thanks for reading 🫰🏼 should I continue? 🤔

[pinkrasberryfish]

A Court of Blood & Mercy Chapter 19 - "Forty-Nine Days" now available! I wanted to put out more after such a long break. Enjoy!

[shallyne]

Over the Edge

Elain POV, partner to On the Edge. Happy mermay

Words: 846

TW: none

Elain looks for her Feyre but meets a stranger

"Feyre!" Elain hissed as she swam through rocks, looking for any trace of her sister. She was always around the outskirts of their territory to collect, well, everything. Trash, rocks, jewelry, she brought it all home and hid most of it in her hidden stash that she thought nobody else knew about. Admittedly, Elain didn't know anything about Feyre's stash until Feyre brought so much stuff home that some things just peeked out of their hidden place but she didn't tell her sister because she knew it didn't come from a malicious place inside Feyre's heart. Their family wasn't always as well off as they were today and collecting things was just one of Feyre's coping mechanisms. "Feyre, stop hiding! That's not funny!" Elain called out. Yes, Feyre always lingered around the outskirts but she never came home later than agreed or went over the border. Worried, Elain swam out here to drag Feyre back home but there wasn't any trace that she was ever here. Elain swam around a big rock, which apparently led into a small cave. She followed the path inside, grateful that she didn't have the eyesight of a mortal. When she turned around another corner, she could make out another entrance. This was more of a tunnel than a cave. Sighing, Elain kept following until she was out of the tunnel. When she turned around, the entrance was gone. She knocked against the a few times, as hard as she could, but there wasn't a way back. Looking around, Elain realized that she was in a whole other part of the sea. Dread started to build inside her. That's how Feyre must have left. Accidentally. Elain huffed in defeat and turned, slamming into something that had her reeling back. Yelping, she rubbed her forehead as she eyed the merman in front of her. His ebony tail shimmered cobalt and as her eyes traveled upwards, shadows clung to him. Around his abdomen and his arms, his shoulders. Then she looked at his face, her breath hitched. He was the most beautiful merman she had ever seen. Elain wanted to ask him what's his name or what he's doing here but she blurted, "Did you see my sister?" remembering that he didn't know her sister, she explained, "She's about 3 inches shorter than me and has brown hair, it looks more golden-brown when she's close to the surface and her eyes are blue but they look gray when she's scared. She's wearing a satchel to carry her treasures around. Her tail is light blue."

The man looks at her with interest, slightly tilting his head as a smile tugged at his lips. "Is her name Feyre?"

"Yes! You saw her! Where is she? She was never so far from home, she must be scared! What happened? is she okay?"

"She's fine," the stranger calmed her down. "The Attor attacked her but she's not injured. Not anymore, the Attor bit her in her fin but we got him before he could seriously injure her. Although the blood did attract a shark and she raced away from him and lost orientation. Feyre didn't find her way back home so she lives at my brother's castle while they look for a way to get her back into her territory. She's well cared for, "

"Castle? Which Castle? The only castle I know is in the northern sea, where Kallias rules." she said, more to herself than the stranger.

"She is in the north." The stranger said. "In the northern lands."

"LANDS?" Elain squeaked. "She never was on land! I–"

"I can bring you to her." he offered. At her narrowed eyes he introduced himself, "I'm Azriel."

"Elain." she said. "Yes, lead me to my sister."

She took his offered hand and they swam in silence for what felt like an eternity. Elain could feel his gaze wandering to her every now and then. When he did it for twenty-third time, she said, "What is it?"

"Nothing." he shook his head. "Just – You'll have to transform your tail into legs."

"I know." she said. "I'm not stupid." Of course she knew. Elain knew how it worked, but only in theory. She never actually did transform.

"Of course you're not stupid." Azriel said. "But your sister didn't know that this was even a possibility."

Elain stopped at that. How couldn't Feyre know? It was part of their lessons! Elain began swimming again as she thought back to her lessons and came up blank when she tried to remember Feyre at said lessons. Where was she?" Is she alright?" Elain asked. Was her absence at these lessons fault for her disappearance? Was that the reason why she didn't find her way back home?

"She is fine," Azriel repeated but this time he smiled. "Her first attempts at walking were…wobbly. She fell face first into sand but she's fine."

Elain felt incredibly bad. One, because the transition must have been scary for Feyre and second, because she couldn't help but giggle at the thought of Feyre falling face first into sand.

[starlightazriel]

bee 9

series desc: modern best friends > lovers (fem reader) tattoo artist az

warnings: 18+, az acting crazy and toxic haha, arguing/angst, just the beginning of the groveling, simp behavior hahaha, drug/alcohol addiction, reader struggling, heart break, time jumps, aa, depression mess, az is literally falling apart at the seams, don't expect good decisions from reader lol she's hurting that's all ima say

a/n: wow I know I ain't shit this took me so long I'm sorry angst central too ik

wc: 3.8k

other parts can be found on my az masterlist <3

nine

"Say the word Bee, I'll knock on his door and knock him out." His jaw was tight, eyes dark with the desire to inflict pain. Real pain, sometimes that side of Azriel scared me, these days it would only make my panties wet.

"Im fine Az," I wiped tears from my face with the back of my sleeve, my chest tightened slightly at his willingness to put himself at risk for my naivety. "Hes not worth it anyway," I added, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Well that youre right about. Tried to tell you he didnt deserve you," he pauses, his face looking displeased. There's a moment of silence and it made me wish I had the courage to fill it with my feelings for him. "Please stop looking so sad though. Bings will help," he smirks, trying the only way he knew how to lighten the mood, he held up his bong, already freshly packed. I sighed softly, letting a small smile tug at the corner of my lips despite the ache I felt in my chest.

"Yeah they might," I smirk a little bit, and take the bong from him, taking one of my little baby hits, I shove the bong back in his direction, coughing obnoxiously despite the small hit. Normally he would make fun of me, I figured he was sparing me the embarrassment in light of the current situation.

"I can kick his ass," he repeats and I just shake my head at him. I didn't doubt it either— when it came to me, Az didn't have any limits. He would go down swinging for me, no matter who it was.

Thinking back on that memory... It made me feel sick, that now he was the one to hurt me.

I had made the mistake of trusting Azriel too much. I knew better. I knew he wasn't ready for this and still I let myself live in some little fantasy world for weeks. And now... Now I was dealing with the consequences.

My heart was shattered.

Incomparable to my insignificant couple of break ups in the past... This was so much worse.

Az... My Az. Maybe not my Az after all.

He clearly couldn't even handle a relationship.

Or maybe... The alternative made my stomach sink.

Maybe he knew the entire time that he was moving and he was just passing the time until he did? Az wouldn't do that... Would he?

You can know someone forever... As soon as there are drugs involved... Well, nothing is guaranteed.

It seemed to be just as hard for me to admit that he had a problem than it was for him. I hated it, but this pain— it made me see things more clearly, see him more clearly.

I couldn't bring myself to block him. I did have to turn my phone off for a while because not picking up was just becoming hard. 39 missed face time calls, 12 missed regular calls, and a handful of text messages that I was leaving on read.

baby please just talk to me

i'm so sorry shit was so fucking stupid

please come home

bee i swear i'll come over there and drag you out of that house by your hair

you know i didnt mean that

im sorry

i need you bee, don't shut me out

just talk to me

i'll stop drinking so much i'll do whatever please just fucking talk to me

cass is a fucking idiot nothing happened i swear baby i didn't fuck anyone.

The messages were spaced out minutes between some, hours between others. I couldn't help myself when I typed out a reply to the last one.

how do you know you didn't fuck anyone? do you even remember? You were getting your fucking grind on with a random ass bottle girl. or maybe she wasn't random lol who fucking knows with you. and you had your face in tits Az. Tits. WERE TOUCHING YOUR CHEEKS. AND YOU WERE SMILING LIKE YOU LOVED EVERY FUCKING SECOND. AND I BET YOU DID CUS YOU LOOKED HIGH OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND.

It was only seconds before he read it and was typing.

i didn't fuck anyone. i only want you. i'm just a dumbass. bro please do not do this shit to me. i will do ANYTHING to make this up to you that's on literally everything.

And another one.

you don't have a choice anyway and i swear if i catch you outside with any of these mother fuckers yo youre both done

And another.

its not a threat its a warning don't play with me

I groaned in frustration and tossed my phone to the side. It was all so... Exhausting. My chest quite literally hurt. And the audacity, please don't do this to him?

He did this to us.

And why the fuck did he think he owned me? I hated that it made my heart flutter— bottle girls, titties, Vegas. I reminded myself.

Sick.

I had confessed everything to my mom the first day I had came back to my parents house, which in hindsight I wished I hadn't. Knowing me... I would be back in Azriels bed within days of being back, my cheeks burned at the thought. No matter what he did, it didn't change the way I now knew how he could make me feel.

She had always loved Az, since day one... He had practically been a part of our family at one point, joining our family dinners every night, even my dad and him had a certain respect for each other. 'Some people are just better off as friends,' was my mom's response to the whole ordeal. Maybe she was right, but I didn't like it, not now.

How could we go back to that?

Was it possible to go back to that?

-

The stress, the heaviness of my heart... I couldn't stop myself from swiping a cig from my dad's secret stash in the garage. I was now sat on the rocking chair on my parent's front porch, debating on what I was going to do when I returned home. I had to go soon, it had already been weeks now I was starting to dip into my old wardrobe.

I had been commuting to class even though it was much farther than Azriel's apartment. I just didn't know what to say when I saw him. I didn't even know how to bring up the fact that I knew he was moving. Did he plan on telling me? What had been his plan for my living situation if he didnt have the apartment anymore? Had he even thought about it?

"So you're smoking now?" his voice causes me to jump, my heart nearly leaping from my chest as my head snaps to Azriel who's standing there, one hand shoved in his pocket other hand gripping a small bouquet of flowers. Scarred fingers against delicate stems, my cheeks turned pink remembering what he had done to me with those fingers. That feeling soon turned to anger remembering what he else he had done, he's frozen now, maybe half way up the stone path leading to my parents front door.

"Jesus Az what the fuck?" I breathed out, exhaling a shaky breath, my tone laced with a venom I had never used with him before. "You scared the fuck out of me, what are you even doing here?"

"You know what I'm doing here," his voice is soft but slightly strained, my stomach twists at the pain I can feel, radiating off of him. I didnt know how he did that, he was always able to change the air around me— like I was so hyper aware of him that I could sense his feelings.

"Az-"

"I love you," he cuts me off, my breath hitches, his cheeks are slightly pink, hand still shoved into his pocket. I set the burning cigarette down on the can beside me, I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

So long.

I had waited to hear those words for so fucking long. And now, here, under these circumstances— it didnt feel how I imagined it would. It didnt feel how it was supposed to.

"I love you too Azriel you know I do but I-"

"But what? You dont want me because Im so fucked up right?" His voice drops slightly, his throat bobbing and I noticed his grip tighten on the bouquet in his hand. His face was soft— pained, and my heart cracked again, remembering that boy so many years ago bruised and bloody with that same heartbroken face of betrayal, and now I had done that to him. "Im sorry, Im so fucking sorry please—"

"I didn't say that," I mumbled, my heart felt like it was bleeding in my chest, like there would be nothing left once he walked away. He didn't dare to step closer. "I just- I need some time Az," I mumbled softly and he closed his eyes for a minute before tugging at his hair, huffing out a frustrated breath. He looked like he would get down on his knees for me, like he would beg me if I asked him to.

"I know what that means Bee," he huffs out another small breath, his face slowly contorting into that hard cold stare I knew him to hide behind. "Anyway," he breaths out, looking away from me. "I'm going to change your mind, we—" he struggles again before giving up, I could see his eyes were bloodshot as he got closer, dark circles prominently underlining them. "Here," he finally says, he shoves the bouquet in my hand, there was an envelope taped to the side of it with my name on it.

"I'm coming home soon Az," I mumble, though, I didn't even know if I was ready for the conversation the two of us would be having. "I told you we could talk then," I add and he sighs, stepping back off of the porch.

"I'll see you soon then," he muttered softly and just shrugged his shoulders, I could tell he wanted to run to me... He wanted to wrap me in his arms and kiss me. He wanted to strangle me also— I could see that too, that deep rooted need for control, to make me see things his way. I couldn't blame him— it stemmed from years of physical abuse, traumas I would never truly be able to understand.

"Go home Az. Goodnight, thank you, for the flowers," is the last thing I say before walking back inside shutting the door behind me, in his face. I didnt watch him walk away, that short conversation had been painful enough. I put the flowers in some water and tore open the mini envelope despite how angry I was with him.... Seeing him, made me crave him so much more.

'I could lose every single thing I have in this world but I can't lose you. I miss you. Please stop shutting me out. I can't take much more of this Bee.'

His handwriting was rushed— desperate messy scrawl, guilt twisted in my gut. I couldn't help it... I had nothing to feel guilty about and yet... Imagining him alone, needing me, missing me... Enough to buy flowers and scribble out a little note. More than I'd ever seen him do for any other woman.

I couldn't fall for it.

My chest tightened and tears welled up in my eyes. Why did he have to fuck everything up? It had been so perfect. Leave it to a fucking man to ruin everything.

-

Azriel swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he stared blankly in front of him at all of the faces looking back at him. His palms were sweaty, ears hot with embarrassment and he couldn't stop tapping his foot. He had opted not to get up and stand at the front, feeling much more secure in his seat toward the back of the room.

"Hi, uh, my name is Azriel, I'm twenty five, and Im um— Im an alcoholic," it was the first time he'd ever said it out loud, it tasted horrible on his tongue. "I've um I've been addicted to drinking alcohol probably for about ten years- Got me into other- shit and I'm here today because I fell in love with my best friend and um- I don't want to lose her. Never tried to quit drinking before— never really believed I had a problem but— yeah, here I am," his voice had gotten quieter as he finished and he realized he was rambling. His cheeks burned, he hated all the eyes on him, hated that he was the center of attention. And he was craving a line, bad.

His introduction was followed by many 'Hi Azriels,' which only made him feel more uncomfortable. They tried to make him feel welcome, tried to relate to him— get him to open up. He thought he might explode but he listened though. He listened to each and every persons story that shared. And when it was over the leader gave him a small white chip, service, unity, recovery. A pledge to a new beginning, toward sobriety.

He sighed and shoved it into his pocket, he was sitting on the step now, to go coffee cup in his hand, black obviously. Isn't that what recovering alcoholics did? Drink black coffee and smoke cigarettes?

"Can I bum one?" a male voice asks and next thing he knows he's sitting down next to him, he was a bit older, maybe 40.

"Sure," he mutters and pulls a cigarette from the pack and extends it to him, he recognized him from inside the meeting.

"It's Max, if you didn't catch it in there."

"Azriel," he mumbles, looking straight ahead at the cars passing by. He didn't know how to feel. He didn't want to get sober. But he needed Bee. He couldn't lose her, after getting a taste? He couldn't handle not having her again. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You need a sponsor?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, Azriel shrugs, the new sobriety coin felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. The anxiousness... The insatiable desire to rid himself of any of his uncomfortable feelings by doing a line and buying a bottle... How the hell was he supposed to stay sane?

"You going to be my sponsor?"

"First things first, don't wear a cocaine vile around your neck to an AA meeting."

-

I was quiet, careful when I slowly pushed open the door to Azriels apartment, my apartment too, I guess. Not for long.

It didn't feel like home anymore— the sickening feeling that twisted in my gut as I took a step inside. It was quiet, he wasn't home... Fucking filthy. There was pizza boxes and take out containers, ash everywhere, multiple ash trays made from various things, there were unfinished cigs and blunts everywhere that made it smell awfully of cigarettes and stale weed. Cocaine residue and half crushed pills were out on the coffee table like it was normal. I swallowed thickly, a soft breath leaving my lips I knew I shouldn't feel guilty, shouldn't feel bad that he obviously wasn't okay... But I did, I just left him. Never, never had I ever done that to Azriel. I was the one constant in his life, the one person who was always there. Ever since that day in front of my house all those years ago.

Titties, bottle girls, moving to Vegas. I reminded myself, my stomach turned again. So angry. Fucking idiot.

I entered the kitchen for a glass of water, needing something to calm that sick feeling. The bile that rose in my throat that felt like I was about to hurl everything I ate for the past three days. I thought better of it quickly, before I consumed anything from this rancid kitchen I would need to deep clean and disinfect.

Dirty dishes in the sink, the dishwasher hanging open half loaded still with clean dishes like he had just been taking them from there and hadn't bothered to put anything away, empty liquor bottles overflowing from the small recycling bin, more take out containers, a bong tipped over, the foul smelling water from it still dripping off of the counter, a small puddle of brownish water collected on the white tile.

What the fuck?

My room was the only room that didnt smell like bong water and cigarettes, but still, he had been in here. Maybe even slept in here. Papers covered the floor, not just papers but drawings. There were drawings of me everywhere. Just me, me naked, him and I together, kissing, fucking, our hands intertwined— there were even drawings of us when we were younger. A little messy, like he had been pressing down so hard— drawing with such emotion that he kept breaking his utensil of choice that day.

I let out a soft sob, my hand flying to cover my mouth.

Fuck.

Kat. I needed Kat.

I tried to swallow the growing lump in my throat again and pulled my phone out to check her location. Of course she was at the shop.

-

"Hey," the bells chime softly as I walk into the shop, there was no one in the waiting room besides Kat and she looked up from her phone, our eyes locking.

"Heyyy baby," she greets, flashing me a smile that soon turns into a frown, her eyebrows drawing together. "Are you good?"

"No," I loosed a shaky breath, advancing to the counter, I leaned against it like I had so many times, but my chest was fucking aching. It was so fucking infuriating that nothing felt the same, nowhere felt the same. I guessed this was what heart break really felt like, seeing the world in every color one day and then black and white the next. "Is he here?" I dropped my voice lower, playing with one of the knick knacks on the desk to distract myself.

"No, he left a while ago, didnt say where he was going," she's still frowning, the worried look still plastered on her face.

"The house Kat?" I paused, making a face. "It's fucking disgusting, I don't understand how hes living like that," my harsh words could have only been brought on by anger, she softens, her look turning more sympathetic which annoys me only, I ignore it.

"He hasn't been the best at work either— snapping on everyone, late every day and fucked up," she lets out a small sigh, "Rhys is fucking pissed," she pulls her lip between her teeth.

"Fuck Rhys, honestly," I mutter quietly, she raises an eyebrow in response but I only ignore it. Of course, none of this was his fault, but still Vegas. Why fucking Vegas? "It's my turn to get fucked up, anyway, that's why I'm here I bought a bottle to pregame, just needed my bitch and one of her miniskirts," my words are met with a grin.

"Babes you know I got you."

-

I hadn't been drunk in a while, so to say the least I was enjoying myself. The pounding of the music, talking to strangers, dancing with Kat. I had needed all of this.

To slip out of my mind for a few hours and just let go.

Kat was definitely enjoying herself now too, and was dancing with some tall sexy man she had just met. I was keeping to myself for the most part, on the edge of the dance floor, swaying my hips to the music as I surveyed the scene with a fuzzy mind.

My mouth popped open in slight surprise and when I felt curiosity instead of the desire to leave immediately, I knew I had drank too much. There was Eris, in all his jewelry and expensive clothes, looking poised and composed as always. Long pale ringed fingers wrapped around a glass of amber liquid. I hadn't seen him since the night we shared.

"You ghosted me princess."

"I had other things going on— and I didnt finish," I smile boredly, not meeting his gaze, it must have been the liquor making me so bold, he scoffs slightly his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Let me buy you a drink then, to make up for it, must have been an off day for me," he inquires, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction that my body was basically broken with anyone except for Azriel, I would let him believe it was his fault. His ego could be taken down a peg, anyway.

"I have one already," I raise it up slightly, smirking as I swirl the liquid around in the cup.

"Not anymore," in a swift motion he takes the glass from my hand and dumps the drink in a near by plant, a fake plant. I squeaked, looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed it.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? It's fake and you just filled it with liquor and juice! Have you even heard of a fruit fly?" I demanded, swaying a bit on my feet, liquor buzzing through my veins. If anyone did that at my bar, I scoffed slightly at the thought staring him down judgmentally for his utter carelessness.

"It's fake, so the liquor won't kill it," he flashed me his insufferable sexy grin before adding "there's wins and losses to every decision we make," his eyes flashed and I stopped for a moment, weighing those words.

No, I can't get caught up in this. I had to figure out what was going on with Azriel and I. "And now you don't have a drink and I get to buy you one, so I win, Im not really concerned nor do I care about any of the losses. Besides, I only ever come here looking for you, so I don't care if they get fruit flies." That cocky smirk he wore, the way he carried himself... He did look good. That piercing gaze, the confidence that radiated off of him along with his expensive dizzying cologne.

I remembered what Az had said about him 'theres a lot of people that would kill him in this city' hearing his words echo in my head, knowing how much he hated that I'd been with Eris... I swallowed, my cheeks turning pink.

Az didnt care when he was fucked up, when he was smushing his face between those two bottle girls titties he didnt think about me at home— waiting for him.

So I wouldn't care now.

I didnt think about him, I didnt think about what it would do to him when I wrapped my fingers up into Eris expensive shirt and yanked his tall frame down to me.

"Wins and losses you say?" I whisper before pressing a kiss to his lips.

-

a/n: cliffhangerrr only time and comments will tell if yalll are mad about this drama HAHA sorry I had to drag the groveling out into multiple parts Az WILL be on his KNEES in the near future

taglist <3: @smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies

IF ANYONES TAG DIDNT WORK IM SO SORRY

[starryevermore]

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand ✧ azriel

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: azriel x vanserra!fem!reader

summary: azriel tries to fix the mess he made. you almost let him. 

word count: 4,529

warnings?: angst city™ bitch, dual povs, threats of death, traumatic childbirth, azriel begging for forgiveness, open ending, there will be no other parts to this, not proofread

PART ONE

As the only daughter of Autumn, your relationship with your brothers was quite different than their relationships with each other. You were no threat to the throne. A female could never be High Lord. Yet, that did not let you free from Beron’s iron tight grip on his family and their perception by Prythian. The only thing a female was good for was marrying well and producing children. If you ever proved yourself to be an embarrassment to the Vanserra family, you learned the limitless bounds of the former High Lord’s wrath. Your brothers would be there to help mend you, offering comfort in the best ways they could. It wasn’t much, but it meant a lot to you. 

It damn near broke your heart when you realized you had to leave them behind to be with your mate. Beron would never—ever—allow you to be mated to an Illyrian brute. Knowing that your brothers would only be hurt if you told them, you decided that Eris was the best option in confiding your plan to run. Together, you left a note saying that you were leaving to be with your mate and he helped you cross Autumn’s border. You prayed to the Mother that Beron was not too cruel to him, or your other brothers, when he discovered your disappearance. You knew you would likely not see them again, and you hoped they might forgive you for that. Then everything Under the Mountain happened—you were trapped in Velaris for fifty years, all too aware that you would never find out if they did. 

That was the one blessing, you supposed, of returning to the Autumn Court all these decades later. With Beron gone and Eris as High Lord, it was easy to fall back in with your family. Though Eris was ready to march down to the Night Court and burn Azriel where he stood, and your other brothers were ready to follow, things calmed down in the end. The rage still simmered, hovering just below the surface. All it would take was one wrong move by the Night Court and any alliances Eris had previously forged would go up in smoke.

Despite your request for no further correspondence, the Night Court continued to periodically reach out to you. Mostly Feyre because she had been your friend, but occasionally Rhys who would inquire about the status of your pregnancy. Though he never said it outright, you knew it was to find out if your babe had wings. His motives, you were unsure. Was it out of concern for your wellbeing? You recalled how panicked he had been during Feyre’s pregnancy. Perhaps he was worried about you for your sake. A larger part of you thought it was out of concern for his brother. That if your babe had wings, then it would mean you would surely die. And if you were to die, could you find it in your heart to let your mate be by your side one last time? Your skin itched at the thought of Azriel anywhere near your babe. 

Truthfully, you didn’t know. Whenever your healer, a kind elderly fae named Brigid, would ask if you wanted to know, you would always decline. You didn’t want to experience your pregnancy knowing there was an expiration date. You wanted to live it, to enjoy it. Because Nesta could not bargain with the Cauldron any longer. Not even her, in all her power, could save you. You would rather spend your final days healing from Azriel’s betrayal and preparing for the birth of your child than worry about the inevitable. 

Besides, you were worried that the loyal shadow wound up wrist would run to Azriel at the first sign of harm to you. 

Eris was not fond of that choice. He was certain that he could find a way to save your life should it come down to it. You were less convinced. But he was a prideful male, and you had learned long ago to not get in the way of a male’s ego. If he wanted to be delusional, so be it. That didn’t mean you had to feed into those delusions. 

Today, however, was a day of celebration. The Fall Equinox had come and so the Forest House was alive with fae from across the courts. The Night Court wasn’t present—hadn’t even been extended an invitation, if Eris was to be believed. You admired his loyalty to you, but you knew the Night Court was not an enemy to be made. To be their ally was to be protected. In a land still wrought from the effects of Amarantha and the King of Hybern, it would be too costly to be making enemies of a court so powerful. 

You ignored those concerns today, trying to focus on the festivities. It was hard to enjoy them. You were at the end of your pregnancy. Brigid had warned against your attendance, arguing that you needed to rest. But you were stubborn like your brothers. If you wanted one more night of revelry, you should have it. 

That was, ultimately, your downfall. 

You were dancing with one of your brothers, Crispin. Or, at the very least, dancing the best you could. You were sure it looked pathetic—a far cry from the elegance Beron beat into you. You were having too much fun to care. So much fun, you almost missed the pain shooting through. 

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips. Crispin froze, extending his arms out to help steady you. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do you need to sit?”

“The babe—there’s something wrong with the babe,” you manage, keeling over from the pain.

“Give me one godsdamned reason not to gut you where you stand.”

Azriel barely glanced up at the male in his house. It was only a matter of time, he mused, before one of your brothers came for him. For some reason, Lucien hadn’t been particularly high on the list he made, ranking the likelihood of each brother to come breaking down the door. Mostly because Lucien spent most of his time in the mortal lands, far away from news of what Azriel had done. But, eventually, all word gets out. 

“Because I deserve a more painful death than gutting me would provide.”

Lucien’s hand wound itself in Azriel’s hair, yanking it back. A blade pressed against his throat. “Damned right you do. She was always too fucking good for you.”

“I know.”

“Do you know how many males would kill for a mate as kind as her? Do you know how many males begged Beron for her hand? You are lucky she ever spared you the time of day,” Lucien hissed. 

Again, Azriel said, “I know.”

And he did. Mother above, he did. Every day of the last nine months, Azriel had been kicking himself for treating you the way he did. How had he misread all of the signs? Why did he let his anxieties, his worries of not being good enough for you, cloud his judgment? Azriel found himself wishing he could turn back time, stop himself from ruining the best thing he ever had. 

Now, he was left in the dark. His friends scarcely spoke to him. Ever since Feyre and Rhys learned of his accusations, word spread among the Inner Circle. Cassian looked at him like he didn’t even know his brother. Mor sneered the first time she saw him. Amren hadn’t said a word to him. And Nesta…He was sure she was going to rip his wings off and throw him off the House of Wind. Even Elain looked at him as if he were a monster. Sometimes, though, Feyre would fill him in on the few replies you sent to her letters. And if he asked pathetically enough, Rhys would send you inquiries about your wellbeing. Those never got a reply. 

Azriel almost wished he had a mission to go on to distract himself. To able to take his pain out on another helpless soul. But Rhys had barred him from his work. A punishment for his actions, Azriel was sure. Rhysand would never call it that. Always said something about giving Azriel time to reflect. But Azriel was tired of reflecting. Reflection wouldn’t undo what he did. Reflection wouldn’t bring you back. 

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a male,” Lucien spat. “Hybern should have killed you. It would have spared the rest of us from your waste of a life.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. It would have killed you, he was sure, if he had died. But at least you would know he loved you. At least you wouldn’t be aching because your mate proved he didn’t trust you. You wouldn’t have your babe, but at least you could be assured that Azriel would never accuse you of infidelity. 

“Have you seen her?” Azriel croaked. 

Lucien released his hold on Azriel’s hair. He fell forward, but didn’t turn to face the male. He could hear Lucien’s snarl as he said, “Color me surprised when I return from the mortal lands to learn from Elain that you cast my sister aside, made her leave her home, because you refused to listen to her. You’re lucky that Eris answered my letter with haste, explaining she was safe in Autumn. Consider yourself even luckier that the High Lord made me wait to come here before I got that answer. Do you have any idea how far she had to travel on foot? You made a pregnant female—your mate—travel through Winter alone.”

Azriel held back his sob. 

“A farmer had to be the one to bring her to Forest House. She would have died if not for his kindness.” Lucien’s hand curled around Azriel’s throat, his nails digging in. “Their blood would have been on your hands if they did.”

“I-I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t—”

Hurt,a shadow whispered. Azriel’s head snapped up. He wrenched himself out of Lucien’s death grip, searching for the shadow he hadn’t seen in months. Most of the others had stuck around, hissing their disapproval in his ear. But he knew one had gone missing, prayed to the Mother that it was making sure you were safe when he couldn’t. Come quick.

“What?” Azriel breathed out. No. No. It couldn’t mean you. You were safe, in Autumn. You were under your brothers’ protection. No harm should ever befall you there. None…Unless—

She’s hurt. The babe is stuck. Come—quick.

Azriel jumped out of his seat, moving faster than he had in months. This couldn’t be. The babe didn’t have wings. Surely, if the babe had wings, you would have told Rhysand. You would have told someone. Unless, you didn’t know. He had to get to you. He had to see you. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“She’s gone into labor,” he managed. The room felt like it was spinning. Was he about to lose you forever? No. No, he couldn’t handle that. He could handle you alive, hating him forever. But to lose you like this…For you to not know how deeply sorry he was, he couldn’t live with that. He would sooner follow you in death than live in a world without you. “The babe has wings.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “They’ll kill you if you go. They’ll make me look like mercy.”

“I-I need to get Madja. She has experience with this. I need to give her a shot.” Azriel sniffed, praying the tears wouldn’t fall. Not now. “Even if she never lets me see the babe, I need to do everything in my power to give them a chance to live.”

Azriel half-expected Lucien to drive his dagger into his heart. Instead, his lip curled. “Go. Before I change my mind. I’ll warn my brothers of your arrival. They will welcome Madja’s help. But whatever they decide to do with you, I will not interfere.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not doing this for you.”

“I know. But…thank you.”

Your screams do not sound like your own. It sounded like, felt like, it was coming from someone else. Nothing about this, truthfully, felt like it was happening to you. You were vaguely aware of your mother on your right side, Eris on your left. Brigid was between your legs, trying to help the babe into a proper birthing position. Somewhere beyond the closed, oak door you could hear your brothers Crispin and Heath shouting at someone. Oh, you hoped they were terrorizing the servants. 

“You’re alright, my love,” your mother was saying as she stroked your hair, “you’re doing so well.”

Your scream was your only response. Fuck. You had never experienced pain quite like this before. Not even Beron’s flames compared to this. It was a miracle you hadn’t passed out yet. Though, the thought of shutting your eyes and closing out the rest of the world was quite tempting. No. You needed to stay strong. If not for yourself, then for your babe. You had to give her a fighting chance. 

Her. You were so certain your babe was a female. Brigid had never told you, because you had never asked. If you had known, the gender or the status of wings, you would want to tell Azriel. It would be the one thing, you were certain, that would break your resolve. You weren’t sure if you ever wanted the shadowsinger back into your life, but…Well, he had always want a babe that looked just like you. A little princess to dote on. To show how to fly. 

Another scream ripped through you. It felt like your soul was being torn out. Like sharp talons raked down your body, gripping at your essence, ready to take you back to the Mother. You wouldn’t go back. Not until your babe was born. After that…If the Mother wanted you, she could take you. Your babe would be in safe hands with your family. 

Desperately, you tried to search out for the shadow that not left your side in nine months. It had become a source of comfort. Its cold nature soothed the flames of Autumn burning inside of you. It reminded you of home. But when your eyes flicked to your wrist, then down your arm, it was gone. How long had it been gone? Why did it abandon you when you finally needed it? Where did it—

Something slammed against the oaken door. 

Eris’s head snapped up to glare at the wood. “What in the Cauldron is happening out there?” he hissed. 

“Go, check,” your mother said. “We need to keep this room as calm as possible. If your brothers are picking fights out there, then they’ll only make it worse. She cannot afford any unwarranted stress.”

Eris gave a tight nod and stepped away from your side. He didn’t even make it halfway across the room before the door slammed open, the wood splintering. A body hit the floor. Your vision was too blurred to make out who, or the person who stepped over him, approaching your bed. That is, until she was close enough for you to recognize the all-too-familiar face. 

“Madja?” you managed. “How—”

“He brought me here,” she said, stepping in between your legs. Brigid made room for you, taking the opportunity to move away to grab some fresh towels. Madja tutted at the sight of you, then got to work. 

“I don’t want him here!” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. 

You barely caught Madja glancing over to the fallen figure. In the haze, you finally recognized the wings. Azriel. He was here. Your breath caught. That was why the shadow had left you. It had gone to find him. Was it out of loyalty to its master? Or was it out of concern for you? A little shadow escaped from Azriel, speeding back to you. The cold thing stroked your face, as if to comfort you, to apologize for leaving you alone. 

Azriel’s head lifted. You were grateful you couldn’t see the hurt in his eyes. Crispin and Heath each grabbed an arm, dragging your mate back up to his feet. Though you all knew he could easily fight them off, he didn’t make a single move. Purple was already beginning to blossom on his exposed bits of skin. Had that been why you heard your brother’s shouting? 

Too pained to stand the look of him, you focused back on Madja. “Better or worse than Feyre?” Your voice was tight. It took every bit of your energy to not roar in pain. 

“The babe is starting to come out, but her wings are stuck,” she said. “We’ll have to break bones to get her out.”

“Mine or hers?” you nearly cried. 

“Both.” Madja glanced up at you. She masked her sorrow well, but you saw through it. You knew the next thing she was going to say, and you knew your answer, too. “I don’t know that I can save you both.”

“Her. Save her.”

“NO!” Azriel shouted. 

You barely processed Eris’s body slamming into Azriel. He let out a low groan at the contact. If you weren’t already in so much pain, you would have been able to feel how much that hurt through the bond. You wondered how much Azriel could feel. For the last nine months, you had kept your end closed. But after going into labor, it took too much effort to push him away. 

“You are the last godsdamned person who gets to make decisions about her,” Eris hissed. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you in the fucking dungeon—”

“I already gave him the whole speech, brother.”

Lucien? How did he get here? How did he know? 

Azriel ignored your brothers. To Madja, he pleaded, “Give her a chance—both of them a chance.”

Eris’s fist landed square on Azriel’s jaw. “Don’t even look in her fucking direction.”

“All of you, out!” your mother shouted. The males all froze in place. “What did I say about removing unnecessary stress? Eris, take him to the library and let him stay there until this is over. The rest of you, make yourselves useful.”

Your attention turned back to Madja, ignoring the sulking males, as her cold hand touched your knee. “We have to make a decision, dear.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched as Azriel stiffened. He wouldn’t be pleased with you, you were sure. And perhaps it was cruel to subject him to the cold pain of losing a mate. But that was mercy compared to what he did to you. 

To Madja, you said, “Do what you must.”

Azriel stared at the oak doors of the library. Eris and Lucien had been left at his guards while Crispin and Heath disappeared to gather more supplies for Madja and Brigid. He paid them and their snarls no mind. Nothing could distract him from your wails of pain echoing through Forest House. Every inch of him, every fiber of his being, called for him to go to you. To be by your side. It was only your words that kept him still. 

“I don’t want him here!”

Five words was all it took for you to rip Azriel’s heart out. How you did it so succinctly, struck him right to the core, when it took an illogical rant from him to break yours was a mystery to him. Worse yet, Azriel wasn’t sure you were even aware of what you were saying. You looked like you were barely processing Madja’s appearance. Did you truly want him gone? 

Visions of your near-lifeless eyes looking at him flashed through his mind. He was going to lose you today. Was it a kinder fate for you to die than live in a world with him? Would things be different if he hadn’t fucked things up so spectacularly? Azriel imagined you in your shared home, your family—the Inner Circle—surrounding you. Love for you would be in the air, not contempt for him. Would that have been enough to save you? 

He shook his head. He was being ridiculous. Your family—the Vanserras—loved you, too. Perhaps more than the Inner Circle. While his family was content to ignore his existence, yours was willing to strike him down where he stood for even deigning to show his face in Autumn. He was sure Crispin and Heath would have actually killed him if they hadn’t drove his body through the door first.

Azriel flinched as another scream ripped down the halls. 

“Don’t act like this is painful to you,” Eris snarled. 

Azriel managed to lift a glare to him. “I can feel everything she does. If she is hurting, so am I.”

“That mattered little to you when you accused her of being a whore,” Lucien said. 

“And I will regret to the day I die. I will spend the rest of my days atoning for what I did.” Azriel lifted his chin. “But would killing me save her?”

Eris stepped closer to him. “Don’t even pretend to care about her. Where have you been these last nine months? Where were you when her morning sickness left her unable to leave the bed for days, unable to keep anything down? When she would go to Brigid for updates on the babe? When she couldn’t even pick out things for a nursery because the perfect one was left behind in the Night Court?”

He jerked like he had been slapped. Sometimes, he could still feel the sting of Feyre hitting him. Until today, she had been the only one brave enough to hurt him for what he did. Azriel would take every beating, though, if it meant you would live. 

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, but fell short. Silence rung through Forest House. Your screams—they had stopped. The cries of a babe did not fill their place. He tugged desperately at the bond, hoping to feel your pull. Nothing. There was nothing. 

No.

No, he couldn’t lose you. 

No. 

Against his better judgment, Azriel fled from the library. He raced down the hall, the eldest and youngest Vanserra hot on his heels. He needed to see you. He needed to know that you still lived. Perhaps you were asleep. Birth was exhausting. Azriel remembered Feyre slept for hours after having Nyx. Perhaps you were doing the same. But then why wasn’t the babe crying? 

The door was ajar when he reached it. It took little effort to push it open, to open himself to the scene on the other side. On the far side of the room, Madja and Brigid had the babe. A beautiful little girl. His beautiful little girl. Azriel’s eyes flicked back to you. Your mother was covering your body with a blanket. Were you truly sleeping? No, you were too still, even by fae standards. Your chest didn’t rise. Your eyelids didn’t flutter.

Azriel’s gaze fell to your limp hand hanging from the edge of the bed. He sank to his knees, reaching for it. He half-expected Eris or Lucien to rip him away, to throw back back over the border. But no one touched him. 

“Let him mourn,” he heard your mother say. 

“He doesn’t deserve it.” Whether that was Eris or Lucien, he wasn’t sure. 

“It matters little what he deserves now.”

You couldn’t be gone. You couldn’t be. Somewhere beyond, a faint cry rang through the room. A weight lifted off his chest. At least the babe survived. At least Madja managed that. But…None of that mattered if you weren’t here, too. None of it mattered if you couldn’t hold her. 

A hand touched his shoulder. He lifted his head to stare up at your mother. “Her name is Bronwyn.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“We’re going to take her to a wet nurse. But…you may stay for as long as you like. Ignore my sons. They are in pain, too.”

“Thank you,” he said again. 

Silence filled the room again. Azriel was certain he was alone again, until he heard padding of footsteps along the wooden floor. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Madja. 

“She could still live. It is not…It is not the worst birth I have seen. I have seen weaker women pull through from more horrible circumstances.”

“Why do you tell me this?”

“We believe, when people are in this state of limbo, they can still our world. Talk to her. You might be able to pull her back.”

“She wouldn’t come back for me.”

“Then why did she nearly tell her mother to come get you?” Madja patted his shoulder. “Food for thought. Do as you wish, Spymaster. I will be back to check on her later.”

Azriel did not move for three days and three nights. Despite what Madja had said, he couldn’t find any words to share with you. Everything felt wrong. What was he supposed to say? Apologies would scarcely suffice. Should he beg? It was tempting, but he wasn’t sure his pathetic snifflings would return you, either. 

Every so often, your mother would come in, Bronwyn in her arms. She would lay the babe on your chest and coo about how much she was growing already. Lucien would come in to tell you about what he had been doing in the mortal lands. Eris was rant about the politics of being a newly minted High Lord. Heath would talk about the latest book he had read. Crispin came once—sobbed about how he should have realized what was happening, should have gotten you help sooner. 

Everyone else had something to say. Something more moving, more earth-shattering, than whatever grovel he would wretch up. 

But on the fourth morning, as the morning sunlight began to stream onto you, he lifted himself from his knees. There was just enough space beside you that he could curl up to. It cramped his wings, but he was willing to ignore the pain. 

“I should have cherished you,” he whispered. His throat was tight. “I should have trusted you. I do, trust you I mean. Before you, I never knew unconditional love. Even through the last few centuries together, it still boggled my mind that you could look at me and find something worth loving. When I came home that day, I was so scared that you had finally found something better. It will never excuse what I did.”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Come back, my wildfire. Not for me. I could spend the rest of my life making up for that mistake, but it would never be enough to warrant your forgiveness. But your family…They shouldn’t be hurt because of what I did. Come back for them. Come back for Bronwyn. Come back, and you will never have to see me again unless you so wish it. Just…live.”

Azriel’s eyes squeezed shut. He felt wetness drip down his face, onto your soft skin where his face was pressed. “Please, live.”

Your eyes opened. 

[lalachat]

"And there you were..."

Author's note: HI! This is my very first fan fiction, along with my first time writing. I do not expect anyone to read this, nor do i expect this to blow up. This is simply just a thought i had in my head that I wanted to write down. If you are reading this I will and fully apologize for any grammar issues or typos. Again, I have a lot of learning to do so if this lacks flow or has too much filler let me know... KINDLY!!! Emphasis on K I N D L Y! I love and appreciate anyone who is planning on reading this silly lil story i wrote. I do plan on writing more chapters for this... hopefully some smut later on if this gets enough attention👀 ANYWAYS, I will be quiet now :)

Summary: Your mating bond had snapped for you as soon as you saw the shadowsinger, but he was too busy pinning after the second eldest Archeron sister to notice the bond. After watching them pin for one another, you decided Az would be happier with Elain. However, Mor has an idea to get Az to notice you. A night at Rita's with a scheme made by Mor goes south when you catch the sight of someone you haven't seen in years.

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: um none? basically filler bc i'm a newbie at writing:) use of some profanity, alludes to sexual theme

Word Count: around 3,200

Chapter 1: "DID YOU JUST BITE ME?"

Lucien POV:

And there you were... standing next to the High Lord of the Night Court, drink in hand as your head tilted back in laughter. You looked even more beautiful than the last time he saw you. The only difference now is that he had found his mate, but he could not help the bubbling of old feelings trying to resurface themselves. Cauldron burn him because he was damned, and he knew it. As soon as his gaze met yours, he knew he was ruined.  

Y/N POV:

You were completely unaware he was here. You were too preoccupied with nursing your wine and talking with your favorite high lord to notice his lingering eyes on you. Mor had sent you on a secret mission tonight. It was your sole purpose while being here at Rita’s. The dress Mor gave you hugged your curves in all the right places, showing enough skin but keeping some left to the imagination for others. The plan was simple enough, try to get the attention of your mate and make him jealous. It sounds terrible, but it was the only way to get his attention on you. However, as soon as you got there, his gaze never met yours. You saw Az off in the corner, eyes strictly on Elain as she talked with him. Completely blinded by her beauty, Azriel's bond never snapped for him. This was your last ploy before letting him be happy with Elain. You knew Az would never see you in the light that he saw Elain in. You figured he would be much happier with a female like her anyways. Luckily, Rhysand had spotted you before you could turn away and called you over next to him at the bar.

“Ah well if it isn’t the lovely y/n showing up late as always,” Rhys said smirking handing you a glass of your favorite fae wine.  

“For your information, Rhysand, Mor came to my room at the last minute with a complete wardrobe change. Where is she anyways?” you said as you glanced around the room taking the wine from Rhys’ hand with a smile. 

“Well, I must say she has fabulous style. You look stunning y/n, but as of Mor’s location... I lost her to the dance floor as soon as we walked in. You know how she is.” Rhys rolled his eyes playfully as he sipped his own drink.  

“I should have suspected that answer” you laughed. “I am assuming the rest of the group is somewhere on the floor too? Should we go join them and show them our horrendous dancing my high lord?” you teased with a smile and bow. Rhys gasped and placed a hand on his heart. 

“Oh y/n, how you offend me! My dancing is quite fabulous if I say so myself!” 

“Yes Rhysand, your white girl dance moves are fabulous. However, mine put yours to shame, and you know it!” you say as you down the rest of your wine and offer him your hand. Rhysand’s eyes twinkle as he finishes his drink and takes your hand before leading you to the dance floor. He spots Feyre with the rest of the inner circle on the floor, near the corner where Az was with Elain. Feyre’s face lights up as she sees you. 

“Y/N!!!! There you are! We have been wondering when you would show up! Even got my mate out on the dance floor. I applaud you!” as she gives you the biggest hug. “You look exquisite!” Feyre says as she leaves to see her mate. 

Mor hears Feyre say your name, and she instantly runs over to you. “Look at you!!! I knew that dress would be perfect for you! SO worth the last-minute change because you look fucking hot!” She spins you around and pulls you closer. She lowers her voice to where only you can hear. “He has been glued to her side all night, but it is nothing we cannot fix, hm?” she says with a hint of playfulness. You look behind her to see Nesta and Cassian dancing alongside Rhysand and Feyre. Your heart falters at the sight of both mates enjoying one another’s company with laughter and smiles. How you yearned for something like that. They were both cauldron blessed. Mor followed your gaze and sensed your uneasiness. She smiled at you. 

“Do not falter y/n! We have a mission, and it is now on! Let us go be the badass babes we are and have some fun” as she takes you over to the rest of the group to dance. She positions you purposefully close to Az and Elain. You are both giggling as you twirl one another around to the music, tipsy off the amount of alcohol you both consumed. Everyone was getting lost in the music. You and Mor could not stop laughing at each other. Throats and bellies feeling warm from the alcohol. You both began to forget about the reason you came tonight. Until your gaze left Mor’s and connected with burning amber eyes and bright red hair pulled up in a bun. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned towards Mor. 

“Is that Lucien?” 

“Yes, he’s only here to keep his eyes on his mate, and well because Feyre had forced him to come,” Mor said while looking at you. “Why do you ask? Do you know him?” 

“I do. I just have not seen him in years. Him and I used to... um.... This feels weird to say aloud knowing he found his mate, but we were friends with benefits a LONG time ago” 

“YALL WERE WHAT?!” You decide to grab her hand and go to the bathroom for more privacy. You do not want the entire inner circle hearing about your previous sexual partners. As soon as you shut the bathroom door you turn to her to finish the conversation. 

“Mor you act like I am a virgin.” 

“Y/n I know you are not a virgin, but out of all the people to hear you have had sex with, I was not expecting him! I did not even know you two knew each other!”  

“Yeah, it was when I stayed in the spring court for a while. We met at a popular bar in town, and we instantly clicked. One drink led to another, and I took him back to my apartment. We were so infatuated with each other that it quickly became friends-with-benefits.” 

“OH MY GOD AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME? Y/N this is positively perfect!” You were shocked she took the information so well that you could practically see the gears grinding in her head as she paced back and forth.  

“Mor whatever you are thinking stop it now. I am concerned that you are this deep in thought while being tipsy.” 

“Y/n there has been a slight change of plans” Mor said with full confidence. 

“Should I be concerned?” 

“That my love is up to you to decide, but this is what you are going to do. You are going to talk to Lucien and...” before she could finish her sentence you stopped her with a finger to her mouth. 

“MOR ARE YOU CRAZY?! I must have had too much to drink because I could have sworn you said that I should talk to--” before you could finish Mor bit your finger and you yelped. “DID YOU JUST BITE ME?!” 

“Yes, but that is beside the point. Y/n, you are here to make Az jealous over you, are you not?” 

“Yes, but--” 

She smirks as she says, “And what better way to do it than to flirt with Elain’s mate?” 

Your mouth goes slack. “Elain is Lucien’s mate? Why has no one told me this?!” 

“It is because you are off in your own little world sulking over Az. Besides, none of us even knew you knew Lucien. They don’t even act like mates let alone talk to each other, so we forget half the time. But Y/n this is your chance! Not only could you make Azriel jealous of you, but you could also make Elain jealous of Lucien! Like I said, it is positively perfect!” 

“Mor I can't... this is becoming too much. I do not think I can do this.” 

“GIRL you are drop-dead gorgeous! Any male who does not see that can go die in a hole! You are worth so much more than a mate who refuses to look at you y/n. You can and you will do this! I will not let you sit here and do nothing. You must fight for him y/n, and if the only way to do it is to play dirty, then you must play dirty!” 

“Fine! I will talk to him, but nothing more and nothing less.” 

“Yes! Let us get this new and improved mission going! I cannot believe you and Lucien did it” Mor said as she linked her arm in yours and strutted out the bathroom back to your group. 

“And I cannot believe you BIT me!” Mor giggles as you stick out your tongue and rub your finger to sooth it. You find Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta at the bar getting more drinks.  

Cassian boomed as he said, “There y’all are! We were beginning to think you both fell in!”  

Nesta smacked his arm and said, “Not all of us thought that. Some of us have the mental capacity to know that it was for girl talk. And I must say, whatever it is I want in!” She smirks at the two of you.  

“Oh, oh! Me too! Me too! I love gossip!” Cassian says as he swings an arm over Nesta to get closer to your conversation. 

“Cas go be a busy body somewhere else!” Nesta said swatting away Cassian as you and Mor both giggle at their banter.  

“We were just gossiping, it’s nothing important really,” you say hoping Nesta would catch that you really do not want to talk about you and Mor’s trip to the bathroom. Luckily, she seems to understand and gets up to lead Cass back to the dance floor. “Come on Cass, we can gossip with them later, I love this song!” as Cassian whisks her away to go dance. You can hear him faintly say “This is not over ladies; I have to know what it was!”  

You laugh as Mor looks at you. “He's such a drama king. All right, the time is now! No better time than the present right?? Now go,” as she pushes you toward where Lucien was standing. You glare at her over your shoulder as you walk to Lucien. You can see her smirk before turning around to join Rhys and Feyre back at the bar. 

“Mother above only you can save me now...” as you take a deep breath and finish walking over to Lucien. Your eyes meet, and for a brief second, all the memories come flooding back to you. You had forgotten how handsome he was. His fiery red hair, gorgeously tanned skin, and his burning stare that made you feel like the only girl in the world. You had to stop your mind from lingering too deep into the memories y’all shared because most of them were sexual. You would hate to finally talk with him again only for him to notice your scent.  

“Well, well, well, who do we have here? It has been too long Lu!” you say, and you give him the most wholehearted smile that you could muster.  

“Y/N! I was wondering when you would pop by. Always unable to resist me huh?” he says with a smirk, reaching to give your hand a chaste kiss. Your cheeks flush at the feeling of his lips on your skin. You can practically feel your skin burn from where his lips had just been.  

“Still charming as always.” He chuckles at your comment, and it makes your heart flutter. You were treading extremely dangerous waters. You had not told Mor this, but your previous friends-with-benefits with Lucien had you harboring a secret crush on the male. If it were not for the fact you and he had mates, you were sure you both would not be sleeping alone tonight. “You look nice, Lu.” 

“Thank you, as do you y/n. What are you even doing here at Rita’s? Last I remember you were still in the spring court.” 

“I was, until I decided that I wanted to see the beauty of the other courts. I was nomadic for a while as I traveled, but that changed as soon as I saw the night court and met a certain High Lord everyone now knows and loves.” You giggle as you remember your first encounter with Rhysand. “I fell in love with Velaris and the inner court that I had decided to stay. The rest is history.” You gave Lucien a warm smile. 

“If I had known you were here all this time, I would have come to see you! It's nice to have a friendly face around that’s not a part of the inner circle.” He says with a huff. 

“I get a sense you don’t really like the inner circle all that much?” 

“It’s not that I don’t like them, it’s more so that I don’t belong or fit into their group. Feyre tries to keep me in loop, and I love her to death for it, but it will not change the fact I am that group’s wall flower. The only reason I really stick along is for-” he catches himself. He doesn’t ever finish the sentence, but you knew what he was going to say. He was going to say, “for Elain.” You decided not to press the matter. 

“Well Lucien, I think you are the prettiest wallflower!” you say with a smile and slightly push his shoulder. He smiles and dips his head as he says thank you. “Say, I could use some more wine and it looks like you could use another of what you were drinking, want to come with me to the bar?” as you batt your eyelashes at him. He smirks and you can see an emotion in his eyes, but you can't tell what it was. 

“How could I say no to such a pretty lady offering me another drink.” He places his hand on your exposed lower back and guides you to the bar. His hand feels like fire on your skin. You almost sighed into his touch but remained stoic as you finally reached the bar. He removes his hand, and you find yourself missing the contact. He orders a refill of his drink along with another glass of wine for you. You were surprised when you took a sip of your wine, finding it to be the same as before. Funny, you don’t remember telling him the exact fae brand you were drinking. 

“How did you know what to order for me? I don’t remember telling you what I was drinking.” you look mischievously at him as you take a sip. 

“How you vex me! You think after all this time that I’ve known you that I can't tell that you’ve been drinking your favorite wine? Y/n I may not be the brightest flame in the world, but I sure as hell remember the smell of your favorite wine in your breath.” he says with a smirk, remembering all the heated kisses shared between you two. You try to hide the creeping blush from your cheeks, and you too remember those moments all too well. You put a hand to your mouth and breathe out. He was right, you can smell the wine you’ve been consuming.  

“I didn’t think the smell would be that strong!” as your nose scrunches up at your breath. 

He laughs at how silly you looked trying to smell your own breath. You could not help but laugh at this situation too. You had forgotten what it was like to be around Lucien. The warmth that radiated from him as he laughed had you weak at the knees. You can't help but think how lucky Elain was to have Lucien as her mate. You don’t understand what she doesn’t see in him, and that made you think about Az. He would never see you the way he sees Elain. Hell, he barely even looks at you. So how could you even compete against someone like her?Lucien could tell something was wrong as your face went from laughter to disappointment.  

“Hey, what’s wrong? What’s that pretty little head thinking about?” Lucien had asked concerned, tilting his head to get a better look at you. Maybe it was the alcohol talking but you couldn’t help but to ask. 

“Lucien, do- do you have a mate?”  

“Do I have a mate? Y/n are you okay? Why are you asking this?” 

“I- I don’t know. I’m sorry for even asking. I am overstepping my bounds. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” you take a big gulp of your wine. Lucien reaches out his hand and lowers your hand from your mouth. 

“Hey! Don’t ever apologize to me for asking a simple question! I was just shocked by how random it was. One minute were laughing and now were on the subjects of mates. It was a very big jump, so I'm sorry for my reaction earlier. Yes, I have a mate, but she- she does not want me...” 

“I am sorry Lu, she doesn’t know what she’s missing out on” you give him a faint smile. 

“It’s alright. All this time I thought it would be someone else, but the mother had different plans, I guess. What about you? Surely the lovely y/n has found her mate.”  

“I have, but it’s kind of complicated...” you look down at your glass as you start to twirl your wine. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how is it complicated?” he asks. 

“He doesn’t know about the bond yet...”  

“Y/n why doesn’t he know?” Lucien asks, and his eyes are so intense you have to look away. You catch yourself looking for Azriel among the crowd to see if he was looking your way and spy him in that same corner with Elain. Unlike the other times where they were talking, this time they were kissing. A gasp escapes your lips as your heart drops. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes as you nearly fall out of your seat. If it wasn’t for Lucien bracing you, you would have. He studies your face for a moment before following and focusing his gaze on where you had just been looking. His grip around you tightens as he watches his mate with Azriel. You can see the realization hit him as soon as he makes eye contact with you again. He now knows... “How about we get out of here, get us a sweet treat, grab a bottle of your favorite wine, and go back to my place to decompress?” He asks rubbing your back. 

“That sounds perfect.”  

You both get up from the bar and walk toward the door, Lucien’s hand is still on your back. You can feel a gentle caress of your mental shields and you know it’s Rhysand. You lower your shields to let him know that you were leaving, that you would be safe, and that you would be back tomorrow. He doesn’t pry and trusts your judgement. However, that doesn't stop him from turning to his cousin and bombarding her with questions about what the hell was going on.

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[traceyloveschad1]

Azris Explicit Fan Fiction Chapter 9::

It’s the Bonding Ceremony!! Finally!!

CHAPTER SNIPPET::

Their feet have barely settled and they are already fumbling with buttons through heaving breaths and tangled tongues. The bond is radiating between them. Eris is pulling knives and swords out of Azriel’s clothes throwing them on the floor. Azriel’s hands are sliding Eris’s coat off and running over his boiling skin. They both are on the edge of cuming just from their closeness.

Unbuttoning Eris’s pants, his hand dives in grabbing for that perfect cock. The heat of it on his fingers makes his head swim with craving. Azriel needs to feel him inside, “We have almost three hours before we need to be at the hall. I want you to fuck me on your desk before we leave this room.”

“Mmmm…” Moaning from the immediate pleasure of his mates hand freeing his hardness. “I like your ideas today.” Pressing himself against Azriel, Eris unsheathes another blade tossing it with the rest. “How many of these are there?”

Pulling his hair to expose his throat, trailing open mouthed wet kisses across it. “Enough to make sure no one tries to murder you any time soon.”

“Aww.. that’s so sweet, baby.” Finally getting Azriel’s jacket off around his wings, he unfastens the buttons of his pants, rips them to the Shadowsingers knees. Spinning him around and pushing him into the edge of the desk, hard enough for him to let out a wanton moan, “Now, shut up and bend over.”

[offtorivendell]

Hope Springs Eternal

This little fic is dedicated to all of my book club friends who correctly recognised the superiority of Hannah Bellinger and Fox Thornton (from Hook, Line and Sinker, by Tessa Bailey) in the March Madness ship wars, and voted accordingly. The rest of you? You're all completely wrong, obviously… but I still love you, don't worry.

A huge thank you goes to @gopeachllama for being my beta; I'm so incredibly thankful. Sorry that I dragged you into a three day discussion about a single sentence; I'd promise that it wouldn't happen again, but it would probably be a lie. And @wingedblooms, as always, thank you for your invaluable advice.

As an added bonus, make sure you check out the gorgeous artwork of this fan fic, linked at the end of the post, by the one and only @livlochan. Liv, I was - and still am - absolutely honoured for the chance to work with you. Your art is a joy, and you are a gorgeous human to boot. Everyone, please give her some love on Tumblr and Instagram.

Read it on AO3, if you prefer.

Word Count: 1866

TW: mentions of canon poverty and trauma.

Disclaimer: this is an Elain centric, post canon one shot that delves into the possible memories of her hypothetical reaction to manifesting a power that involves assisting plant growth after experiencing poverty and food hardship while growing up, and how she failed Feyre at the time, as well as an explanation as to why it - potentially - wasn't as simple as "well why didn't Elain plant vegetables." Background Elriel.

I'm not claiming that Elain did in fact try to grow fruit and/or veg, we won't know until her own book, but there are valid reasons as to why it might not have been as simple to try as people think, or even worked if she had made an attempt. I urge people to read this with an open mind, and understand that sometimes you need not only solid knowledge, but the privilege of knowing you have room to make mistakes and waste food in the process of learning, which Elain and Nesta didn't necessarily have. This obviously doesn't absolve them from everything else they did - or didn't - do, as an FYI.

*

Dawn bloomed softly across the townhouse garden as Elain Archeron weaved through the dappled patches of sunlight, her heart and hands singing with life. She felt the probing, whispering reach of the individual plants against the well of her magic—they were cheeky little things, really, just like people, each with its own personality, depending on species and health and age—the early blooming clematis that lived on the wrought iron archway was already full of a vivacious humming and just about set to flower, whereas the twin banks of rose bushes calling to her from the walk were yet a gentle sigh, ever increasing as the days grew longer, that would peak with a riotous chorus of colour and scent and song come June.

It was a brisk March morning in Velaris, the kind wherein the strength of Old Man Winter’s grip on the world was beginning to fail, making way for the warmth and bounty of spring proper. As Elain slowly made her rounds to the different beds of plants, wrapped tightly in a soft, cobalt shawl, she could feel the latent magic of the earth awakening as the sun's rays graced the soil, touching it, drawing forth its life-giving threads of power to entwine with the surrounding roots even as it began its task of burning away the layer of mist that hung in the chill air. The slow unmasking of her garden, a constant dance between light and dark, of life and death circling each other since the dawn of time—that would continue so long as the sun was destined to rise, a rhythm woven into the very fabric of the universe well before she or her sisters had ever graced the world—was something that Elain had always loved to watch. Even as a human child.

Passing by the bird bath, which currently served a lone robin, the only one either brave or fool enough to test the still-icy waters, Elain smiled at the sky, rubbing her hands together as she felt the sunlight caress her face. Her ability to make her magic, herself, one with the land, to monitor and help, and even borrow from, if necessary—though only sparingly, and then in times of trouble—was the greatest gift she was granted by the Cauldron. It allowed her the ability to not only nurture new growth, from strengthening the roots of a sapling to encouraging the first blooms of a rose, but also, brilliantly, to aid in the decomposition of old life, allowing the earth to reclaim what once was and begin anew.

She rarely shared the latter aspect of her powers with others, for even her own sisters had been a little… taken aback when they found out the full extent of her magic—in truth, even she had to admit that it was a little grotesque—but he had never worried about the implications, or been put off. After she had confessed to him what she felt when she opened herself to her wellspring of not just life, but death, too, in a way, dreadfully afraid of the potential consequences, he had, with his usual quiet constance, simply asked her what a bloom would be without the aid of a little blood and bone, and her shoulders had seemed to lighten in an instant. He was correct, and of course of all faeries, it would be he—he, who felt and heard things others did not, could not, comprehend—who understood. The world would stop turning without the old making way for the new, and in helping the life of the realm, she was required to get her hands a little dirty, both literally and figuratively; if she had to encourage the rot of death to give the land the strength to support new life each year, then so be it. Her role changed with the seasons, feeding and nourishing in spring, then breaking down, a lumbricid turning the soil, in autumn—each process vital to the yearly rebirth of the earth. She was more glad than she could ever admit to, having been blessed with a power so attuned to her innermost wishes and joys, especially after Nesta's Cauldron powers had weighed so heavily on her, even though it had taken some getting used to.

When she had first realised what she was capable of, there had been a bitter resentment that rushed through her, swamping any happiness that she may otherwise have felt at having such a constructive power under a wave of unrelenting regrets. Why had her human self not been able to do such things? Elain simultaneously felt like both the betrayer and the betrayed, of and by her body, that she had such an ability now, when she did not need it to contribute food to the table as she desperately had then, all those years ago. It was a discordant bridge between her human and fae selves, and the sour notes had taken much time to fully resolve.

Acceptance had been work. It had been hard, because she had tried so hard, with the singular, sad potato that she'd managed to save from the cook pot the winter she had turned fifteen, determined to make a stand for the first time in her young life. From the depths of her memories, grounded in the stolen mornings she had spent amongst the gardens and greenhouses of their old estate, Elain had remembered the head gardener setting the potatoes out—to chit, the kindly old man had said—and this one did sprout much as she recalled it should, but there her luck had run out. The plot of land on the edge of the forest that housed their cottage hadn't been able to support much in the way of new life, in fact, it could barely support the native plants that scrounged the meager nutrients that their poor soil could provide after the towering trees are their full and, after planting the two halves in the best spot she could find, only a few small, green leaves had broken through the soil before some sort of beetle infestation had made short work of her hope of providing, in some small way, for her family. The next year, the two saved and planted potatoes didn't even manage a single leaf between them, and in the years that followed, there had been no spare potatoes to even make an attempt.

The weak promise of food in the future meant nothing when their bellies were empty in the here and now. Winters spent scrounging and starving soon disabused all three sisters of the idea of leftover food. Scraps didn't exist to create compost, even if she had known what to do with them to realise her dream of rich earth and a thriving plot.

She had tried to beg seeds and starts from the farmers that brought crops to the local market, but they were understandably, if disappointingly, protective of their own income, and seed lines were a closely guarded trade secret. But the problem with their soil would still have existed; while it may have been able to support a few flowers during the best growing conditions of the year, bearing fruit that matured enough to harvest was another thing altogether.

So yes, she had experienced an internal crisis, felt renewed shame at her former failure, when her new powers manifested in such a way that highlighted her past inability to contribute to the table, to lessen Feyre's burden as the sole hunter and provider. Elain had many regrets from her youth—would do it all differently, be a better sister, if she had the time over—and they had all come crashing home the first time she had accidentally caused a rose to sprout a new stem, then bud and bloom heartily in under a minute as she held and inspected the plant…to deadhead it, of all things, and understood what it meant.

Heaving a sigh, Elain finally reached the small vegetable garden at the side of the townhouse. It was her pet project, and really all she could manage now, given the current state of her waistline. She was nearing her eighth month of pregnancy, which was moving along nicely, according to the town healer she had been seeing throughout, but her rapidly expanding middle made digging and weeding and planting more than a wee bit difficult, and she still had over two months to go, if all went according to plan. She hadn't been without help, of course. Her sisters, Nuala and Cerridwen, and him, of course, had all made themselves useful in her garden over winter; even little Nyx had helped, though the latter was more in essence of spirit than function.

Elain wouldn't trade these days with her family, free from the shadows of impending doom, for the world.

Squatting in front of the broccoli, something she had developed a particular liking for over the course of her pregnancy, she knelt—as gracefully as she was able—and placed her hands on the ground, letting her fingers eagerly bury themselves in the loose layer of topsoil as her woolen shawl slipped down her arms. Quickly, she righted the garment, knowing that she would hear about it from her fussing husband if he saw her putting her health at risk; to his credit, it was cold outside, and she often neglected to remember the weather when she was intent on her garden. They worked well as a team, each looking out for the other and anticipating what they may need. This morning he had come up behind her as she had been braiding her hair out of the way and simply placed it over her shoulders with a gentle kiss to the top of her head—give a fae male a pregnant wife and they would dote and nest more than she had ever seen in humans; they truly were a different species. He had spent the previous afternoon weeding for her, knowing she could not spend as long on her knees as she would have before, and she rode the fresh wave of contentment the memory triggered, heart singing, as she sent fine tendrils of her power into the ground, gilding the surrounding roots with a little magical nourishment under the golden light of dawn.

Thankfully, she could manage to give the entire vegetable patch a boost from her current position at the side of the plot, otherwise she would certainly be exhausted before she'd made it inside for her morning tea, let alone begun the work in her apothecary. The spark in her veins was echoed by a fizzing thrum from the nearby plants as they took up the melody flowing from her hands, building to a crescendo backed by fluttering leaves and rustling stems. Feeling that the garden would benefit no more from her assistance, Elain sat back on her heels as she withdrew her power, and raised her eyes to the dormer that looked down upon the kitchen garden.

Noting movement in the shadows on the other side of the window, she beamed.

*

Click here to see the matching art for this fan fic, thanks to the brilliant @livlochan.

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