#eris x reader x Azriel

[readychilledwine]

New Beginnings

Summary - Having two mates was never easy, especially when you all had different homes.

Warnings - Readers boyfriends definitely are not boyfriends, references to smut, swearing, drinking

A/N - you all thought I wouldn't try to get my poop in a group for my beloved @polysjmweek? Wrong. I had drafts. I'm forcing myself to post them. @acourtofladydeath, forgive my lateness. And my dropping of many things late. Closed Vs are something we had talked a lot about, and I wanted to make sure to feature one this year! A closed v is a challenging dynamic that requires 3 very secure people, and it felt so right to start my late posting with this. 

This fic was written for day 1 - who's court is it anyways?

SJM Poly+ Week 2025 Masterlist

✨️Master Masterlist✨️

“Mother, save me,” you murmured as Azriel and Eris started arguing again. Life would have been easier if Azriel and Eris were also mates, but the Cauldron decided this was much more entertaining. You sighed and got between them. They’d been arguing for several hours about which court you three would be settling into as a permanent home. Eris wanted to stay in Autumn, and rightfully so, with his chances of being High Lord so high. Azriel believed the Night Court was the best option and that he owed Rhysand his life, possibly even his first born with how loyal he was.

Your home had been immediately denied. “Why would we move to the coldest place in Prythian,” Eris had asked. Azriel immediately had agreed, stating his wings would freeze in the bitter winds of the Winter Court. 

“Rhysand needs me,” Azriel growled at Eris. “My court needs me!”

“So does mine,” Eris shot back. “I will be High Lord some day, and I have to be in Autumn to heal Autumn!” 

You sighed softly, hands on two strong chests as they glared. “Does anyone care what I think?” Both males seemed to relax at the sound of your voice. “Because I think this is ridiculous, and maybe we all aren’t actually ready to move into one home.” The silence that met that statement was deafening. You had spent the last 7 years having to bounce between Autumn and Night. a  week with Ers. A week with Azriel. A week at home, the Mountain House, a quiet comfort. Dating two males, being mated to two males, especially two males who were not interested in each other, was not for the faint of heart. You took a deep breath, eyes closing as you did. “I think we have a great thing,” you continued. “Our relationship and the dynamic we have is special to me, but I worry it isn’t special to you two. I worry that us moving in together will not be with you not-” You paused. “With you two.. Unable to cooperate and get along.”

Eris and Azriel looked at you, eyes so different. Eris was inquisitive, Azriel was stunned. You had never shown any signs of thinking there were issues within the relationship the 3 of you shared, at least, not issues you had acknowledged to them. You were such a relaxed fae and would go where the wind took you. Eris sat down, knowing this was a serious conversation time, not a fun one. He pointed to the chair across from the couch he was on, his rings sparkling on his long finger as you moved and sat. Azriel sat by Eris, leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “How long have you felt this way,” Eris was fighting to keep his voice soft. “And why are the two of us just finding out?”

Azriel then added, “And how can we fix it?”

They had similarities, and this process was one of them. They allowed the comfortable silence to fall over the room as you thought and then took a deep breath. “I think I first started feeling this way at our first Starfall all together. I felt pulled and like spending too much time with Azriel disrespected you,” you said to Eris. “But too much time with Eris, and I was hurting you,” you directed at Azriel. “I felt.. Spread so thin.”

Eris nodded in clear thought. He was thinking over everything you had told them first before nodding, wanting you to continue. “I have tried to bring it up to both of you one on one since us in one place rarely happens, but my time with Azriel is spent-”

“Do not finish that sentence,” the Illyrian blushed.

“And my time with Eris is spent acting like the perfect future Lady of Autumn,” you smiled and held in a laugh to Azriel’s sudden shyness.

Eris chuckled, a laugh deep and full like his whiskey, “A shame, really. Sounds like your time with Azriel is much more productive than your time with me. Does she curl her -"

Azriel blushed harder, the faint pinkish-red hiding under his tan skin. “Shut up, Eris. She still has to tell us how to fix it.” They both turned back to you, “Keep talking, salvation.”

It was your turn to blush, the precious nickname Azriel had given you always enough to make your heart flutter and the bond grow warm. “I just would like you two to be friends. For you two to learn to be civil enough that we could spend time as the three of us. I don’t need you two to ever want to have sex, but knowing I could leave you two alone for 2 or 3 hours to head to market without one of you being dead when I came back would be nice.” Both males nodded. 

Another deep breath relaxed the feeling of your heart beating in your chest.  The two of them were studying each other. “It starts with addressing the elephant in the room, Eris,” You said as gently as you could. 

He leaned forward more, taking a moment to center, and he began. He told Azriel everything about his relationship with Mor, the illyrian nodding as Eris explained his choices to Azriel and explained everything he had done was to protect Mor, you, and himself. Azriel then had to explain himself as well, admitting the Night Court had a plan for killing Eris as soon as Morrigan said yes, but they had told Morrigan it would not happen now that Azriel was tied to Eris in a roundabout way. It was several hours of your mates talking, voices low and unhurried. They’d never gotten along this well and for this long. 

The conversation switched at some point, the males going from discussing their issues to the things you had known for a while they shared in common. Dancing being the biggest one. From there it became showing their dagger collection. Discussions on the hounds. Hunting. You.

Beautiful, brilliant you. 

You were the first to retire for the evening, standing in the hall between the guest room and Eris’s. Whenever the 3 of you were together, you had to make a choice on who you slept with each night, bouncing between beds sometimes like it should have been a profession. Soft hands led you by your hips, pushing you into Eris’s room. The warm scent of baked apple and fire was like a pull, drawing you in more and more. Your own hands found the ones holding you, scarred flesh, greeting them. “I think his bed is large enough for all three of us,” a voice like deep night whispered to you. “Think we can make that work? We know how happy it would make you, and it is time for us to try.” If Eris had a scent that pulled like a magnet, Azriel’s was the lock shutting you in. The two mixed, that chilled air and cedar in weaving into fire, felt like the safest combination you had ever wrapped yourself into. 

“I think we’d all fit,” the softness of your voice had him smiling.

“Then lay down. We’ll come in once we finish our drinks.”

And that night, the three of you tucked into one bed together. It felt like something new was beginning. A new chapter. One you had been hoping to welcome for far too long now.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[itsswritten]

“To the stars who listen and the dreams that are answered”

ＡＺＲＩＥＬ

⁂ Share your pain

In the wake of a heated argument, you and Azriel find yourselves adrift, the once unbreakable bond strained. Faced with the questions of whether love can endure the shadows of past traumas, can you work through this?

⁂Threads of Hazel

A mating bond can connect those who have not even met, but can it save them too?

⁂ Gone

Sometimes it take's heartbreak to move on...or to realise what you've always had.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Final Part

⁂ Cauldron-born

When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 - wip

⁂ Wings Universe Masterlist

The world of Prythian’s loveliest couple. (Fairy x Azriel)

⁂ Love In Ink

On the brink of war, it was now or never to finally confess your feelings to Azriel, but when you stumble onto a moment you wish you hadn't perhaps it's the gods way of saying your confession had been too late.

ＡＺＲＩＳ

(Azriel x Reader x Eris)

༄ When the sea calls for three

In the aftermath of war, peace reigns over the realms of Prythian, but the delicate balance hangs in the hands of two unlikely mediators—You and Lucien. As the newly appointed Emissaries of Peace, your duty is clear: maintain alliances, foster understanding between courts, and navigate the intricate webs of fae politics.

But when fate deals an unexpected twist, revealing that you possess not one, but two mates, the tranquillity you've worked so hard to uphold is suddenly threatened. Caught between two males who refuse to share, you find yourself thrust into a precarious position, torn between duty and desire.

What will you do and who will you choose?

Intro | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 - coming soon! i will try get to this asap

ＥＲＩＳ

~pending~

ＣＡＳＳＩＡＮ

~pending~

ＬＵＣＩＥＮ

~pending~

[florencemtrash]

Flame, Shadow, Beast : Masterlist

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Note: Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! This fic will update every Wednesday evening starting October 25th

Prologue

Chapter One: Flame

Chapter Two: Shadow

Chapter Three: Beast I

Chapter Four: Beast II

Epilogue

[cassiefromhell]

Bats and Fire: The Very Beginnings

What if we took y/n (who is, in this fic, a monster researcher/hunter) being mated to a couple acotar men... then made it all the acotar men (batboys, eris, lucien)....

So this was a silly joke. Then I wrote it. Then I realized that this could be multiple parts... so welcome to:

Bats and Fire

01 - The Very Beginnings

(this is such proof that i will write anything and i'm 6x more likely to write it if its MESSY and CHAOTIC)

Warnings: none

WC: 2k

Finding out you’re mated to all the ACOTAR men would be a doozy.

At first it’s Rhys, when you make eye contact with him while on a business visit in Velaris…

“I know,” you laugh, gently nudging your friend’s shoulder. “Boo hoo, you don’t like the Night Court. But it’s beautiful. We’ve been in worse places on business.”

“That’s tru— oh my cauldron, look who it is!” She points to the back of a man walking with a tall blonde woman, and you can immediately sense the power radiating off of him. He must be who you’re looking for: the High Lord of Night.

“Yes!” you grin, tightening your grip on the jar in your hands — which holds a very menacing pixie that has been stealing magic from residents of Prythian all over. The High Lord of Autumn had commissioned its capture, and you had tracked it back to night, and well… here you were.

“Lord Rhysand!” you call out, gracefully sliding your way through the crowd. “Lord Rhysand, I must speak with you!”

Someone bumps into you, and you stumble, crashing straight into the High Lord’s chest. 

“You bellowed?”

“Yes, yes— sorry, my Lord. But you see, this pixie—”

But then you look up, meeting his stunning violet-blue gaze.

You drop your jar, and it shatters on the cobblestone ground, the pixie exploding out of the rubble, trying to make a break for it. The creature is immediately surrounded by darkness, unable to make its grand escape.

“You’re…” you whisper, covering your mouth with a hand. 

“…My mate.”

Cassian and Azriel came shortly after. You and Rhys got close quickly, so why wouldn’t you be introduced to his friends?

“Darling?” Rhysand says, glancing around the room, his eyes finally landing on you. “Oh, good— you’re all ready. Remember that it’s cold, so wear plenty of layers—”

You blink up at him, gesturing to the not one, not two, not three, but four layers he’s made you put on. “Rhys. I’m going to be very warm. I’ve been to the Illyrian mountains on hunting trips before and I can confirm that this is too much.”

“It’s gotten colder in recent years.”

“Sure.”

Rhys grins, kisses the side of your head, and takes your hand. “Ready? We won’t be there for two long, I just want to do a little surveillance with the camps and introduce you to my brothers while we’re there.”

With a quick nod, you’re  enveloped by darkness and wind. And then it all fades, and chill air bites at your cheeks and nose.

Rhysand holds you close to his side as you trudge through the snow. You wrap your coats tighter around yourself, leaning into his warmth.

And then you feel it.

You freeze.

An electric connection stuns you, seeming to form at your heart and spread through your chest. 

And then another.

You reluctantly look over your shoulder, cursing when you see them. Two tall Illyrian males, staring at you. They definitely know. And you have the gut feeling that these two males are the Cassian and Azriel that Rhys told you about.

“Ah, look, there they are,” Rhys grins, waving towards the two males, who have both started in your direction.

This is your moment: fight, flight, or freeze? Your heart pounds in your chest—they’re getting closer—and the crowd is so thick with people…

As a monster researcher and hunter, you’ve never fled once in your life.

…But now is a fantastic time to start.

“Restroom,” you blurt, and then sprint from Rhys’s side, burying yourself in the crowd of taller Fae and wings and fur coats.

You weave between the people, attempting to mask your scent, and then burst into a small corner shop. A bakery, filled with the smells of bread and pastries. Perfect to cover your trail.

You walk up to the counter, fishing out a few coppers. “Do you have anything particularly smelly?”

The baker raises a brow, his wings shifting behind him as he gives you a once-over dripping with judgment. “Excuse me?”

“Love?”

You curse under your breath at the sound of Rhys’s voice. And then you slowly turn around, finding your mate… and your other two mates.

So you face your fate.

The Illyrians were easy to love. You got to know them in a matter of weeks, but you had other jobs to attend to, and was soon in the Autumn Court, where you had to finally turn in that damned pixie to High Lord Eris…

Are you sure you feel safe there? Azriel asks down the bond. One of us can come and accompany you.

Yes, you confirm. All is well. I’m just turning in this little beast. I’ll be back before sundown.

He sent you a wave of love, paired with a sarcastic you have fun with that.

So here you are, climbing a ladder to get to the top level of the Autumn palace. It’s built like a treehouse, with ladders separating the levels unless you’re nobility or a special guest, in which case you get to use the fancy-dancy wooden staircases in the center. 

But being a monster specialist is pretty damn far from nobility. So you get the ladders route.

You decide that you hate this place.

Hoisting yourself up onto the final platform, where the throne room is, you climb to your feet. 

A guard gives you a dirty look, holding out a spear to stop you in your path. “Female. State your name and business.”

You say your name, and hold up the jar containing a very angry pixie. “The High Lord commissioned this pixie’s capture. Now, if you’ll let me go, this Tinkerbelle is very eager to find an escape route.”

“You didn’t give advance warning of your visit.”

“I sent word a month ago,” you snarl, baring your teeth.

His spear strikes you quicker than your Fae reflexes can react. It collides with your cheek, sending you stumbling back, blood rushing down your jaw.

“What in Prythian are you doing, Magus?” an unfamiliar male voice enters the encounter, and you immediately see boots approaching.

“She was trying to force her way in—”

“Liar,” you hiss. You wipe away the blood and face the guard once more, free hand tightening on the pixie jar. “I have proper certification, if you would just let me—”

“She’s aggressive, your majesty.”

Your majesty?

You look up at the male who had approached. You’re met with a golden-skinned male, with a  scar through one eye and a whirring, mechanical eyeball. When he too looks at you, you feel the slightest… ittiest bittiest… tug.

Shit.

His jaw drops, long ginger hair falling over his shoulder. “You’re…”

The doors to the throne room swing open, revealing a male that looks like your newfound fourth mate. But he’s wearing a crown, so he must be the High Lord that you came for.

And when his stunning copper eyes turn to you, it happens.

For the fifth time.

“Nope,” you say, throwing the jar in High Lord Eris’s direction. “Nope. Not again. Not doing this.”

With that, you turn on your heel, starting back towards the ladder.

“Wait,” the first male jumps in front of you, eyes glimmering. “You’re… you’re my mate.”

“What do you mean?” Eris jumps in, stepping into view and rapidly approaching. “She’s my mate.”

“See, so there’s this phenomenon,” you start, gritting your teeth. “I already have three mates. I don’t feel the need for another two. The Mother is cruel and she thinks that building me a harem is great entertainment. But you two are officially out. Capishe?”

The two males looked at eachother, and then back to you—

But you were gone.

We have an issue, you stated down the bond to your Illyrian mates.

You knew that blocking out two mates would not work. And it didn’t. They sent you flowers and gifts, and... oh, the gifts... such expensive and exquisite things... for weeks, until you caved… and called a meeting for all of your mates.

You sit in silence at The House of Wind’s dining table, monitoring the males’ expressions. They're all glaring at each other. The Mother definitely could have given you a less… volatile… group.

“Okay,” you start, scratching the back of your neck. “So… I think this is it.”

“I’d like to put it on the record that you said you were sure we were all last time,” Cassian grits out, wings rigid at his back. 

“This is different. Now, we need to go over rules, boundaries… anything that comes to mind?”

“Separated court times,” Lucien starts, seeming rather open to the situation. “Eris and I manage the Autumn Court, and these three are always in Night, so it makes sense to do a week-on, week-off schedule.”

“Her work requires her to travel,” Azriel joins in, twirling Truth-Teller in his hand. “You couldn’t expect her to just stay in your court for a week at a time.”

“Of course he didn’t mean that,” Eris snarls, ear twitching. “He meant during her off time.”

“I could—” you try to join in, but it doesn’t really work out for you.

“I plan on making her my High Lady, which she has already agreed to,” Rhysand growls. “So she’ll be spending a lot of time in the Night Court.”

Cassian nods, joining in. “And we don’t want her to give up her passions. Which seems to be what you want. So she’ll be either at the Night Court or traveling. You two can… visit… her.”

“I really wouldn’t mind—”

“And what if I want her to be my High Lady?” Eris stands, lips pulling back as he faces Rhys. “Perhaps she’d prefer to reside in a more respectable court than Night.”

That prompts both Azriel and Cassian to stand, growling and wings flaring. “You’re a piece of scum and she does not deserve to be tied to the likes of you,” Azriel responds, bitterness and anger dripping in his tone.

“Have you lost all your dignity?” Lucien shoots to his feet too, and Rhys follows suit.

They start yelling. And arguing. And every time you try to cut in, they ignore you.

So you conjure up something that should get their attention.

“Contraceptive brews!” you shout, throwing your arms in the air.

Sure enough, the males go silent, turning to look at you.

“Sit down.”

And they all do.

Like puppies taking a command.

“Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel and I have all agreed that the males take the contraceptive brews. I have a rigorous travel schedule that often includes random overnights in the woods or mountains while hunting or researching, so I don’t always have access to them,” you explain, gesturing to the Illyrians.

Eris raises a brow. “Wouldn’t it make sense for you to just carry it with you rather than all five of us taking—”

“Drink the brew or you don’t get it,” Cassian growls, making a lewd gesture.

“New rule. No more fighting. It’s overwhelming and stupid.” you announce, taking the ribbon out of your hair and putting it in the middle of the table. “This is the Talking Ribbon. When you want to talk, you must have the ribbon. Else you shut the fuck up.”

“That is your—”

“Rhys. Talking Ribbon.”

Rhys obediently takes the ribbon, then tries speaking again. “This is your favorite ribbon. I wouldn’t risk this being used… it could get torn.”

Lucien takes the ribbon gingerly, and then faces you. “Then we will not tear the ribbon. Right, everyone?”

The males all nod.

You sigh, and then gesture around the group. “My time will be spent as I please. Now, I think I’ve been here for as long as I need to, so you five can work out the details on your own.” You stand, and walk away from the table.

“Love,” Rhys calls after you. “Love, I think that maybe we would benefit from your presence—”

“I can’t always be your mediator. I have a Wyrm to hunt. Good night.”

And you leave the males to grumble amongst each other.

If you'd like to be tagged for future 'bats and fire' chaos, comment and I'll add you to the taglist!

Read 02 HERE

[surielstea]

Can I get HCs for the Bat Boyz & the autumn boyz (Eris & Lucien, my favourites) with this dialogue:

“There’s nowhere to sit” “My lap is right here.”

Bonus points: if it’s not always the boyz’ lap that’s being referenced here. Personally I think Lucien, Rhys and Cass would find it hilarious.

Thank you! 💀

“My lap is right here.”

Pairing: ACoTaR men x Fem!Reader (separately)

Summary: requested above.

Warnings: All fluff with some suggestiveness!

A. Note: this is just a little something for you guys while I finish my Azris x Reader story (it’s already 10k words…) it’s gonna take me a minute to edit that so enjoy this while you wait! :)

Rhysand

Rita's was packed, the music thrumming through the air, a bass-heavy pulse that vibrated through the floor. Laughter and conversation wove together, filling the space with an electric kind of energy. You should have expected this—should have known that a night out with the Inner Circle would be anything but quiet.

The lot of you had managed to snag one of the larger rounded booths, a semicircle of plush velvet meant for maybe six or seven people. But there were ten of you, and despite the shuffling, adjusting, and outright shoving that had taken place, only nine had managed to squeeze in.

Which left you standing there, arms crossed, staring at the filled seats.

"Well, where am I supposed to sit?" you asked, arching a brow as your so-called friends barely spared you a second glance. Even Amren—tiny, ruthless Amren—had somehow managed to claim a spot.

Before anyone could answer, a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you forward with a familiar, effortless strength. A gasp left your lips as you tumbled into a broad, solid chest, your mate's scent of sea salt and citrus washing over you as he caught you with ease.

"My lap is right here, darling," Rhys purred into your ear, his voice a velvety caress. His arms caged you against him as he leaned back into the booth, utterly at ease with you in his lap. "This seat is always reserved for you."

A flush crept up your neck, heat coiling low in your stomach as his lips ghosted over the sensitive spot just below your ear. You swatted at his arm half-heartedly, though you didn't move away.

"Get a room," Cassian groaned, shaking his head. "Or at least wait until we've had a few drinks before you start eye-fucking each other."

"Oh, please," Mor cut in, already sliding out of the booth. "Tell me about it, Cass. I'm getting a round."

"Get us doubles!" Amren called after her. "We're going to need them." She sighed beneath her breath.

The table erupted in laughter, but Rhys barely paid them any mind. His fingers traced idle patterns along your thigh, his lips still dangerously close to your ear.

"You don't mind sitting here, do you?" he murmured, the hint of amusement in his voice making it clear he already knew the answer.

You tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze, violet eyes dark with mischief. "I think you planned this," you accused, narrowing your eyes.

His smile was all wickedness and charm. "And if I did?"

You huffed, shaking your head—but you didn't move from his lap. And judging by the way his hands tightened ever so slightly on your hips, you doubted he had any intention of letting you go.

Let Mor bring the drinks. You had everything you needed right here.

Azriel

"Hi, handsome," you greet, a smile curling at your lips as you swing open the door to your apartment. The crisp scent of rain drifts in with the night air, mingling with the warmth of your cozy home. Azriel stands in the doorway, shadows curling subtly around him as if hesitant to cross the threshold.

His hazel eyes soften as he takes you in, lingering on the comfortable sweater you've thrown on, the glow of candlelight flickering in the background. He steps inside, shaking a few stray raindrops from his hair, and you close the door behind him, shutting out the storm.

"You're soaked," you remark, reaching out to help him shrug off his damp jacket. His fingers brush against yours as he hands it over, and even with the chill clinging to the fabric, his touch is warm.

"It's cold out there," he murmurs, eyes scanning the space around him. He's never been to your apartment before, and you watch with amusement as his gaze sweeps over the small but welcoming interior—books stacked in uneven piles, a few blankets draped over the couch, a candle flickering on the coffee table. A place lived in. A place entirely yours.

"But it's nice in here," he adds, his voice dipping lower as he turns back to you.

You barely have time to process his words before his lips are on yours—slow, deliberate, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he deepens the kiss. You melt into him for a moment, savoring the warmth that spreads through your chest before you pull away with a playful smile.

"Come on," you say, tugging him toward the couch. "Make yourself comfortable."

Azriel hesitates. It's subtle—the slight shift of his weight, the way his wings twitch behind him as he glances at the couch. It's not exactly built to accommodate a six-foot-something Illyrian warrior with a wingspan that could cast an eclipse over your entire living room.

"Uh... where should I sit?" he asks, the uncertainty in his voice so rare it almost makes you laugh.

You smirk, patting your lap in invitation. "Right here's an option."

His lips twitch in amusement, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his gaze before he makes his decision—easing down onto the couch beside you instead. His wing unfurls slightly, shifting behind you before settling around your shoulders like a warm, protective cloak.

You hum contentedly, pulling a blanket over both of you and nestling into his side. The steady beat of his heart thrums against your ear as you relax into the comfort of his presence.

"Thought you'd take me up on my offer," you tease, tilting your head to glance up at him.

His lips brush against your temple, voice low and amused. "Maybe next time."

For now, you're more than happy with this—wrapped in the warmth of him, the scent of rain and cedarwood clinging to his skin, and the quiet, unspoken promise that he is exactly where he wants to be.

Cassian

"Babe, you in here?"

Cassian's voice carries through the library just before his head peeks around the doorway. You don't bother looking up, too engrossed in the book cradled in your hands—a detailed account of art created during the war. Nestled beneath a thick pile of blankets in a massive leather chair that practically swallows you whole, you simply lift one hand from the cocoon of warmth and wave lazily.

"Here."

He steps inside, brows knitting together. "I called you through the bond. You didn't answer."

"I'm reading," you murmur distractedly, flipping a page without sparing him a glance.

"Reading or not, answer next time. I was worried, okay?" His voice dips into something softer, more serious as he strides deeper into the room.

You hum in vague acknowledgment but don't respond, eyes locked on the words before you.

“Baby," he tries again, tapping a finger against the edge of your book.

You snap your gaze up at him, blinking as if just now remembering his presence. "Huh?"

Cassian exhales through his nose, clearly unimpressed. "Okay?" he repeats, waiting for some kind of confirmation.

Not entirely sure what you're agreeing to but wanting to return to your book, you nod absently. "Yeah, okay."

He watches you for a long moment, his broad shoulders deflating when you go right back to reading. The silence stretches between you, filled only with the soft crackling of the fireplace and the faint rustle of pages.

"Aren't you going to ask why I was looking for you?" His voice carries the weight of expectation.

"...No." You shrug, completely unrepentant.

Cassian lets out a dramatic sigh, his hope for your attention swiftly diminishing. "If you look at me right now, I'll leave you alone with your book," he mutters.

Your head snaps up instantly, locking onto his warm caramel gaze.

"Cauldron, you're determined," he grumbles. Then, in one swift motion, he swipes your book from your hands and snaps it shut.

You gasp, eyes widening as you reach for it. "Cassian!"

"You can read later. Give me attention now," he hums, looking far too pleased with himself.

You narrow your eyes at him, lips parting to protest, but then an idea strikes. You soften your expression, tilt your head slightly, and give him the biggest, most pitiful puppy-dog eyes you can manage.

His smirk falters. Then crumbles entirely.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he blurts, scrambling to return your book. He flips it open and, somehow, miraculously lands on the exact page you were on.

You blink in surprise before shooting him a suspicious look.

"What?" he says innocently, though the glint in his eye suggests he knew exactly what he was doing.

Still, you smile in triumph, sinking deeper into the chair and pulling the book back into place.

Cassian frowns at you, clearly still unsatisfied, and before you can react, he swoops in, effortlessly lifting you from your seat.

A startled yelp escapes you as he sets you on your feet, stealing your chair for himself. You huff but refuse to be deterred, standing directly in front of him, reading as if nothing had happened. Every so often, you flick a page, ignoring the weight of his amused stare.

A sudden shiver wracks through you, the realization settling in—you had been so warm under that blanket. You glance up to find Cassian comfortably wrapped in it now, looking entirely too smug.

"Give me my spot back," you grumble, crossing your arms.

"My lap is right here," he counters smoothly, patting his thigh.

You roll your eyes but don't hesitate long before crawling into his lap. His arms immediately come around you, securing you against his chest as he reclines the chair back. The warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against your back, melts away any lingering annoyance.

Without another word, you resume reading, far more comfortable now than you had been before. Cassian presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, fingers threading through your hair in a way that is both distracting and soothing.

You silently thank him for keeping your hair out of your face, appreciating, despite everything, that he always finds a way to take care of you—even when he's being insufferable.

Eris

The golden throne is a masterpiece—intricate carvings of twisting flames and autumn leaves adorning the armrests, the deep red cushions a striking contrast against the polished gold. But the true vision of perfection is the male seated upon it.

Eris, legs spread carelessly, his head resting against his palm, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. His auburn hair catches the flickering candlelight, a halo of fire framing his sharp, impossibly beautiful features. His amber eyes—always so sharp, always so calculating—soften slightly as they land on you.

You shift your weight, feeling oddly out of place as you stand before him. "So... do I get a throne too?" you ask, tilting your head.

Eris raises a single brow, amusement flickering across his face. "Why?"

You blink at him. "Because this is the throne for the ruler of Autumn," he explains, as if the answer is obvious.

"Right," you say, crossing your arms. "But I just mean... I'm High Lady. Shouldn't I have a throne too?"

It feels strange, asking for something like this, but before you were even married, Eris made it abundantly clear—you are his equal in all things. He's never once treated you as anything less.

He exhales softly, watching you as if he's trying to puzzle something out. Then, finally, he shrugs. "We share a bed. Shouldn't we share a throne?"

Your lips part in protest. "It's not exactly large enough—"

But before you can finish, Eris moves. With a fluidity that makes your breath hitch, he reaches forward, gripping your wrist and tugging you toward him. A startled gasp escapes you as you stumble, catching yourself on the arm of the throne just as you land in his lap, straddling one of his thighs.

The position leaves your faces mere inches apart—your wide eyes meeting his entirely relaxed, smirking expression.

His hands settle on your waist, fingers drumming idly against the fabric of your dress. "We can get you your own throne if you really want, pretty," he murmurs, his voice a silken promise. "But what's mine is yours. So share this with me—for now, okay?"

You stare at him, still slightly stunned by the sudden shift, the warmth of him seeping into you, the firm press of muscle beneath you. His scent—smoke and crisp autumn air—wraps around you, grounding you in the moment.

Slowly, you nod.

"Good," he whispers, his smirk softening into something dangerously close to adoration before he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss.

A kiss that lingers, that tastes of fire and devotion.

And as you melt into him, you think—perhaps his lap as a throne was a perfectly good alternative.

Lucien

The gathering was already in full swing by the time you and Lucien arrived. The grand hall, adorned in golden candlelight and autumnal tapestries, was packed with High Fae from various courts. A long banquet table stretched through the center of the room, lined with platters of rich food and goblets of deep red wine.

You had expected a formal meeting—discussions of trade agreements, court relations, maybe a bit of posturing. What you hadn't expected was an entire buffet spread out on the table, and for every seat to be taken.

Lucien, of course, had found one easily, already seated comfortably among the dignitaries. His russet-red hair gleamed under the chandelier's glow, and he looked completely at ease, one arm draped over the back of his chair, a goblet in his other hand. He was already speaking with someone from the Winter Court, his voice warm and smooth—an effortless diplomat.

You stood at the edge of the table, scanning for an open seat. Nothing.

Lucien's keen gaze flicked to you. A slow, knowing smirk stretched across his lips. "Problem, darling?"

You crossed your arms, pursing your lips. "There's nowhere to sit."

Lucien took a languid sip of his wine, clearly reveling in your predicament. Then, with all the smugness in the world, he patted his thigh. "My lap is right here."

You shot him a sharp look, but he only raised a brow, entirely unbothered. His amber eye gleamed with mischief, the gold in it catching the candlelight. "Unless you'd rather sit in one of my brother’s advisor’s lap?" he mused, tilting his head toward the older men at the end of the table, who were giving you disgusting looks but thankfully too far away to catch wind of Lucien's ridiculous suggestion.

Your glare hardened. "Absolutely not."

Lucien grinned like the cat that got the cream. "Then by all means, make yourself comfortable."

You let out a long, suffering sigh before lowering yourself onto his lap, doing your best to maintain your dignity. His arms came around you without hesitation, one resting lightly at your waist while the other adjusted to make space.

“You know,” He started, lips brushing your ear. "You could have at least pretended to resist a little longer," he murmured, his voice low, meant only for you.

"If this makes a scene, you suffer the consequences."

Lucien hummed in amusement, fingers absently tracing patterns against your hip. "I think I rather like these consequences."

You were about to retort when a voice from across the table chimed in. "Comfortable?"

You looked up to find Helion watching the two of you with raised brows, his expression far too entertained.

Lucien didn't miss a beat. "Very," he replied smoothly, fingers tightening just slightly at your waist.

Helion chuckled, shaking his head, but said nothing more. Like father like son.

You, on the other hand, were going to murder Lucien the second you were out of sight of the High Lords.

But for now, as the night carried on, his warmth steady beneath you, his presence grounding in a way you weren't entirely ready to admit—you allowed yourself to relax, just a little.

And if Lucien pressed an occasional kiss to your shoulder throughout the evening, well... you supposed you could let that slide.

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[dumb-ster-fire]

His Unholy Voice

Azriel x mate!reader

Summary: Cassian dares Azriel to call Y/N a “good girl,” and the River House descends into chaos.

a/n: Y/N has shadows and starlight powers because why not?🤭 This tid-bit of info will make sense as you read.

Masterlist

———————————————————————————

The late afternoon sun slanted lazily through the windows of the River House, bathing the living room in golden light. The air hummed with quiet conversation and the soft clinking of glasses, the occasional flutter of faelight drifting near the ceiling like drowsy stars. Velaris stretched peacefully outside the tall windows, but inside, the Inner Circle was gathered in their usual chaotic harmony.

Cassian was draped across one of the oversized couches like a lounging mountain, one foot on the coffee table, sipping from a glass of something amber. Nesta was curled beside him, her legs tucked under her as she read, pretending to ignore him—but everyone could see the slight curve to her lips at whatever nonsense he’d just said.

Rhys was stretched on another couch, Feyre leaning against his side as they shared a blanket, her sketchpad resting on her knees. She was absently doodling swirls of starlight and wings, her free hand curled around Rhysand’s fingers. Mor sat on the floor nearby, polishing her nails with a spell that shimmered gold and green with every flick of her hand. Elain, quiet but present, was perched in a window seat with a tray of tea, and Lucien lounged beside her, one arm slung lazily over the backrest as they chatted in low tones.

Amren reclined in a dark armchair, looking like a cat in the sun, sipping a goblet of something no one dared ask about, eyes half-lidded but sharp as ever.

Azriel sat in an armchair near the fireplace, shadows curling lazily around his shoulders like smoke. He had a book in his lap, unopened, because his attention kept flickering toward the open doorway leading to the kitchen.

That was where Y/N was.

They could hear her moving, her bare feet padding softly across the tile, cabinet doors opening and shutting, and an unmistakably muttered, “Where the fuck are the cheesy things?” drifting into the room.

Azriel’s lips quirked at that—barely—but the others noticed.

Cassian saw it first. And grinned like a predator spotting prey.

“Hey, Az,” Cassian said loudly, his voice a low drawl. “I dare you to call Y/N a good girl when she walks back in.”

The room went still for a beat.

Azriel’s shadows recoiled, like startled birds.

Feyre choked on her tea. Mor burst out laughing. Nesta looked up sharply, her brows lifting. Even Amren cracked one glowing eye open, clearly intrigued.

Elain blinked in quiet horror. Lucien looked like someone had lit a match under his chair.

Azriel didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe for a second.

“That’s low,” he muttered, but his voice betrayed the flicker of interest. Mischief.

Cassian leaned in, devilish. “Come on, brother. She melts when you say it. Like a dying star. She forgets her name. For science.”

“You’re an idiot,” Azriel replied, but he was already shifting, the barest smile tugging at his lips.

Cassian’s eyes glinted with glee. “For the record, I dare you.”

From the kitchen came the crinkling sound of a bag being triumphantly torn open. And a triumphant, “Aha!”

Y/N stepped into the doorway, holding a bag of some cheesy snack triumphantly, her hair catching the sunlight, shadows trailing behind her like a cloak, starlight dancing in her eyes.

And Azriel, cool as ever, looked up at her from his chair and said—soft and low, like a forbidden promise, the kind of voice that could make anyone forget the world—

“Good girl.”

Y/N froze.

The snack bag slipped slightly in her fingers.

The world—no, the entire house—held its breath.

Her pupils dilated. Her chest rose sharply with a breath. Knees buckled just a little. A flush crept up her cheeks, slow and deep. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Cassian exploded into laughter. “CAUGHT!”

Nesta threw a pillow at him.

Mor squealed. “She’s literally blushing! Az, do it again—do it again!”

Feyre nearly dropped her sketchpad as she laughed. Rhysand looked vaguely scandalized. Amren smirked over the rim of her goblet.

Azriel… was already on his feet, stalking toward Y/N like a shadow come to life, all dark promise and slow steps, his smirk lazy, knowing.

Y/N stood there like someone had unplugged her brain, cheesy snack bag clutched in one limp hand, completely undone by two words.

“Stars,” she muttered, barely audible. “That’s not fair.”

He stopped just in front of her, dipped his head until their mouths almost touched, and whispered once more, like a gift and a curse—

“Good girl.”

The snack bag hit the floor.

Chaos erupted in the living room behind them.

But Y/N only had eyes for Azriel, and he for her.

Cassian, somewhere behind them, crowed: “Best. Dare. Ever.”

Y/N didn’t stand a chance.

Not with that voice in her ear. Not when his hand slid around her waist with the barest pressure, fingers splaying possessively over her hip. Not when his shadows curled around her ankles and calves like warm silk, winding upward in slow, teasing spirals. Her knees gave a telltale wobble, and she might’ve leaned into him more than she meant to.

Azriel tilted his head, studying her with that impossibly focused gaze, the one that said he saw everything—every blush, every flicker of breath, every tremble she couldn’t quite hide.

“You dropped your snack,” he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek, but there was laughter in his tone now. Teasing. Dangerous.

Y/N’s voice was a whisper, scandalized and aroused and helpless all at once. “You’re evil.”

Cassian, from the couch: “Confirmed. Absolute menace. But we love him anyway.”

Rhys groaned into Feyre’s hair. “We need to start setting rules for these gatherings. Like no weaponized mating rituals in the living room.”

Mor was wiping tears from her eyes, still giggling. “Can’t believe how fast her soul left her body. Az, what did you do to her?”

“I said two words,” Azriel said innocently, though his hands hadn’t left Y/N’s waist.

“That you said them,” Feyre pointed out, grinning. “Big difference. If Cassian said it, she’d punch him.”

“True,” Y/N muttered, finding her voice again as she blinked up at her mate, trying to gather her strength. “You’re the only one allowed to say that.”

Azriel’s smirk deepened, pure male satisfaction.

“Say it again and I swear I will melt into the floor,” she whispered, half a warning, half a dare.

He leaned closer, and it was ridiculous—how even his breath on her skin made her insides twist.

But he didn’t say it again. No, instead he brushed a kiss just beneath her ear and murmured something else, something private, only for her—

And whatever he said made her clutch his shirt and mutter something in a language none of them understood. Her accent had thickened, her cheeks were flaming, and her shadows were writhing like they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

Azriel just smiled.

Lucien raised a brow from his seat. “I think we just witnessed the mating equivalent of a death blow.”

Elain looked down into her teacup, face burning.

Cassian was howling with laughter. “She short-circuited! You broke her! Y/N, you good?”

Y/N slowly turned her head over Azriel’s shoulder and leveled Cassian with a look of pure venom—except her lips were twitching upward at the corners.

“I’m going to shove cheesy snacks into your mouth until you shut up.”

“Promising me snacks? That’s not the threat you think it is.”

Azriel sighed, then bent down and retrieved the snack bag from the floor, brushing it off before pressing it into her hands. “Here. For your trouble.”

She squinted at him. “If you say it again in that voice, I will not survive the night.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Azriel.”

But she was laughing now, flushed and glowing in that way she always got around him—like starlight blooming just beneath her skin. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and led her back toward the couch, one hand still at her waist, and she let him.

The others watched them settle onto the floor near the hearth, Y/N leaning into Azriel’s side with the snack bag in her lap, still looking vaguely dazed. Azriel passed her one of the cheesy crisps like she was the queen of Prythian and this was some sacred offering.

Cassian, watching them with exaggerated horror: “We just enabled something truly terrible.”

Nesta: “Good. Now shut up.”

And as laughter filled the room once again, Y/N whispered, only loud enough for Azriel to hear, “I like being your good girl.”

Azriel didn’t say a word.

But his shadows swirled with contentment, and his smile—slow and secret—could’ve set the whole house on fire.

Cassian leaned back against the couch like a smug, overgrown cat, swirling the remains of his drink in his glass. He was watching Y/N and Azriel with that all-too-familiar gleam in his hazel eyes—the one that usually meant trouble was brewing.

Y/N was still nestled beside Azriel near the hearth, curled into his side, her legs tucked beneath her, munching on a cheesy crisp like it was the last edible thing in Prythian. Her cheeks were finally losing some of their deep blush, her breathing mostly even again.

Cassian clearly decided that peace had lasted too long.

With a slow, sly grin, he said to the room—loudly enough that everyone could hear, especially the couple in question—

“Now I’m just curious what her reaction would be if Az said, ‘on your knees.’”

Silence.

Actual, stunned silence.

Rhys choked on air.

Feyre gasped, her eyes wide as dinner plates.

Mor made a noise that was half-squeal, half-scream. “CASSIAN!”

Elain made a soft, scandalized squeak and buried her face in her hands. Lucien immediately reached for his drink, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Nesta didn’t look up from her book, but her lips twitched as if she were biting back a laugh. “Gods, you’re such a shit-stirrer.”

Azriel didn’t even blink.

Y/N?

Y/N went completely still.

The kind of still that said every system in her body had shut down and restarted in a blaze of chaotic what the fuck.

Her hand froze halfway to her mouth, cheesy crisp inches from her lips. Her pupils dilated so fast it was like someone flipped a switch. She made a small, choked sound and looked at Azriel like he’d somehow already said it.

And Azriel… gods-damned Azriel…

The corner of his mouth lifted. Just slightly. Slowly. Like he was very aware of her reaction—and storing it for later use.

He said nothing.

But his shadows purred.

Y/N slowly turned her head toward Cassian, blinking like someone had just slapped her with a lightning bolt.

“Do you want to die?” she asked sweetly.

Cassian threw his head back and cackled. “Stars, it’s even worse than I thought! You didn’t even say it and she nearly melted into the floor!”

“Cass,” Azriel said, voice low and dangerous—not angry, but possessive, like a quiet warning growl. “Keep talking, and I’ll give her that command right here.”

Y/N made another helpless noise, turning red from her collarbones up.

Mor was dying, absolutely shrieking. “I can’t! I can’t—Az, if you say it I swear I’ll combust!”

Rhys, rubbing his temples like a father who’s lost control of his children: “Someone—anyone—please stop this. Elain looks like she might faint.”

Lucien reached over and gently moved Elain’s teacup away from her lap before something catastrophic could happen.

Meanwhile, Y/N was clutching Azriel’s shirt now, her head buried against his shoulder like she could hide from the conversation—but her body betrayed her. The way her legs shifted, the arch in her back, the way her shadows curled tight around her thighs—

Azriel bent his head close, and whispered something only she could hear. Her gasp was audible.

Cassian, watching the whole thing unfold like a delighted villain, grinned ear to ear. “Yup. That’s going in the record book.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You have a record book?”

He waggled his brows. “I do now.”

Y/N finally peeked up from Azriel’s shoulder, her voice hoarse but steady. “I hope you know that when I recover from this, I’m kicking your ass.”

Cassian smirked. “Fair. But worth it.”

Azriel ran his hand slowly down her spine, a look of dark promise in his eyes.

And he murmured—not loud enough for anyone else to hear, but enough to make her shiver—

“Later.”

Y/N didn’t make a sound.

She just melted. Again.

And Cassian lost his mind.

“YOU GUYS! YOU’RE GONNA KILL HER! STOP!”

Azriel just smiled. And this time… even Rhys looked a little afraid.

But, of course, he was not done.

Because Azriel never let go of an advantage once he had it—and right now, Y/N was flushed, breathless, barely hanging on to the frayed remains of her composure. Cassian’s comment had been the match, but Azriel? Azriel was the flame.

The Shadowsinger reached lazily into the snack bag still resting in Y/N’s lap, pulled out one of the crisps—one of those curled, golden cheesy ones—and held it between his fingers.

Completely casual. Like he hadn’t just whispered promises into her ear. Like he wasn’t still the reason her entire nervous system was currently short-circuiting.

Then, ever so innocently, he turned to her and murmured—

“Open your mouth for me.”

The room went dead silent.

Again.

Feyre’s jaw dropped.

Mor screamed.

Cassian made a wheezing sound and nearly fell off the couch.

Lucien covered his face with his hands and muttered something like, “Oh, for the love of—”

Even Amren, lounging in a chair like some ancient, unimpressed cat, raised a single dark brow.

Y/N?

Y/N made a sound that could only be described as a high-pitched whimper.

Her spine straightened like she’d just been electrocuted, and her hands flew up as if she didn’t know whether to push him away or drag him closer. Her mouth opened—and then promptly snapped shut again, eyes wide in horror at her own reaction.

Azriel blinked at her, all innocence. “What? It’s a snack.”

Liar.

Y/N was staring at the chip like it was the One Ring and she was about to fall to her doom.

“Y-you…” she tried. “You know what you’re doing.”

Azriel tilted his head. “I’m feeding you.”

Cassian, clutching his stomach, howled. “Oh my gods, she doesn’t know whether to eat it or beg.”

Nesta muttered, “I swear if he keeps this up, she’s going to ascend to another plane.”

Mor flung a pillow at Azriel. “Stop corrupting her!”

“Too late,” Y/N whispered, eyes still locked on her mate.

She was vibrating. Her shadows were wrapped tight around her legs again, her starlight flickering faintly along her fingers like her powers couldn’t figure out how to help her.

Azriel leaned in, his voice velvet and low, and added with that damn smirk—

“Be a good girl and open up.”

Y/N made a strangled sound and obeyed before she could think. Mouth open, eyes dazed, spine arching slightly like every cell in her body had been commanded.

He placed the chip on her tongue with gentle, devastating precision.

She didn’t even taste it.

Cassian died.

Dropped off the couch entirely.

Nesta didn’t bother catching him.

Rhys buried his face in Feyre’s lap and moaned. “Make it stop, please, make it stop—”

Elain looked like she was experiencing a crisis. Lucien had gone utterly still beside her, wide-eyed. Mor was wheezing through her laughter.

Y/N, eyes fluttering closed around the cheesy crisp, finally swallowed, then slumped back against Azriel’s shoulder, absolutely done.

“I hate you,” she mumbled.

Azriel just brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, utterly unrepentant.

“No, you don’t.”

And stars help her—

He was right.

Azriel, the insufferable, beautiful bastard, glanced down at his fingers—now dusted with that unmistakable cheesy orange powder from the crisp he’d just fed her. He inspected them with a faint smirk, clearly considering his next move.

Y/N, still recovering, was half-sprawled against his side, her mind mush, her pride in shambles. Her heart was racing, her skin still flushed. One little command and she’d folded like wet parchment.

So, of course, of course he wasn’t done.

Without a word, he lifted his hand—the one with the cheesy dust—and held two fingers in front of her lips, tilting them slightly in offering.

And then, in that dark, low murmur that somehow sounded like a kiss laced with sin—

“Clean my fingers for me, sweetheart.”

Cassian let out an actual scream. Mor shrieked with laughter and nearly fell off the couch.

Feyre smacked Rhys on the arm to stop his uncontrollable snorting. Elain made a noise that may have been a gasp—or a gasped prayer. Lucien had gone completely still again, one eye twitching.

Nesta was watching now, intrigued. “I want to see if she combusts.”

Y/N stared at Azriel’s fingers like they were the gates to Hel. Her lips parted—reflex—and then she slapped a hand over her own mouth.

“Azriel!” she squeaked behind her fingers, eyes wide with shock, heat flooding her cheeks again. “You can’t just—in front of everyone—”

He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just kept his hand out, that smug little tilt to his mouth.

“I’m just asking for help,” he said, utterly innocent. “You made me touch those chips. Now I’m all messy.”

Cassian, choking on laughter: “This is torture. I didn’t know watching someone descend into horny chaos could be this entertaining.”

Mor couldn’t breathe. “She’s gonna spontaneously ascend. Like full fae goddess mode, just out of sheer flustered thirst.”

Y/N, trembling with internal conflict, very slowly lowered her hand from her mouth. Her eyes were locked on Azriel’s, pupils dilated, lips parted, and her voice came out as a whisper:

“…You’re going to pay for this.”

Azriel’s voice dropped even lower. “Gladly.”

And gods help her—

She leaned forward.

Just the barest brush of her tongue over his fingertips, her eyes fluttering shut like she hated herself for it—and also maybe wanted to crawl into his lap and never leave again.

The moment her tongue touched his skin, his shadows shuddered.

Azriel inhaled through his nose like he’d just been handed every fantasy he’d never dared admit aloud.

Cassian actually collapsed, face-down on the floor, sob-laughing.

Rhys sat up and pointed a warning finger. “No one is allowed to say another word for the rest of the evening.”

Mor was crying. “It’s too late! They’ve corrupted this space forever!”

Y/N leaned back again, cheeks aflame, and buried her face in Azriel’s shoulder with a muffled groan.

“You’re evil,” she muttered.

Azriel wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head, his voice velvet and pure satisfaction.

“You love it.”

Cassian was still on the floor, pounding the hardwood with his fist like this was the greatest entertainment Velaris had ever known. “I take it back—this is better than sparring. Someone bring popcorn. No—cheesy crisps. Give me the cheesy crisps. I want to see what happens if I hold out my fingers.”

Azriel didn’t even look at him. “Try it and lose them.”

Y/N was vibrating in place, her face buried in Azriel’s neck, clearly trying to become one with his shadows to escape the utter humiliation and arousal that had consumed her.

Feyre had thrown a pillow at Rhys. “You’re the High Lord, do something!”

Rhys looked entirely too amused for someone supposedly in control. “This is divine punishment. For all of us.”

Lucien muttered, “I feel like I’m intruding on some very private mating ritual.”

Elain was pink, sipping her tea with trembling hands, her eyes so wide they looked like they’d never close again.

Amren hadn’t moved. “Honestly, I want to see how far this goes. My money’s on Y/N throwing Azriel through the wall before the hour’s done.”

Nesta, still cool and unreadable, just said, “I’ll help patch the wall when it happens.”

Azriel turned to Y/N, still cradling her like she was precious—and absolutely wrecked.

He tilted her chin up just enough to see her eyes, voice low and wicked.

“Still hungry, love?”

Y/N blinked up at him, her voice a whisper. “You are cruel.”

Cassian, from the floor: “He is! Isn’t it amazing? It’s like watching a temple girl be corrupted by the darkest male in existence—”

He paused. “Wait. That’s kinda what’s happening.”

Mor was crying again. “Y/N’s going to explode, and I’m not missing it.”

Y/N—desperate for payback—finally pushed herself upright. Her shadows flickered, starlight trailing her fingertips as she glared at Cassian.

“Oh, you think you’re safe?” she said, voice still breathy but gaining strength. “You want chaos? Fine.”

She pointed a single glowing finger at him. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I will say something to Nesta that will leave you begging.”

Cassian’s smugness vanished instantly.

His head snapped toward Nesta. “She’s bluffing.”

Nesta looked up slowly, like a lioness stirring in the sun. “She’s not.”

Cassian’s eyes went wide. “Y/N. Y/N. We’re friends. Friends.”

Y/N, voice sweet and laced with vengeance: “Then be quiet, General.”

Everyone howled.

Cassian threw a pillow at her. She caught it mid-air, shadows snatching it and gently setting it down beside her.

Azriel was beaming. Actually smiling, proud and delighted.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured in her ear.

Y/N melted. Again. “Gods-dammit—Azriel—!”

“Language,” he whispered, far too amused.

Feyre buried her face in her hands. “We’re never having a normal night again.”

Rhys sighed dramatically. “There’s no such thing as ‘normal’ when your brother’s sex voice ruins the entire living room.”

Azriel looked entirely unbothered. “Not my fault she’s obedient.”

Y/N shrieked.

Lucien spit out his wine.

Cassian groaned. “I will never get that image out of my mind.”

Amren sipped her bloodwine and muttered, “Good. Maybe next time you’ll think before daring the Shadowsinger to speak.”

Y/N launched a pillow at Azriel’s face.

He caught it one-handed, grinning. “You missed.”

Her voice came out in a growl, low and breathy.

“I never miss.”

Everyone froze.

Cassian: “Oh, she’s fighting back now.”

Nesta closed her book. “Let her.”

Azriel leaned in again, a challenge in his eyes, his voice practically dripping shadow and seduction.

“Then prove it, little star.”

And just like that—

That was it.

Y/N snapped.

With a strangled sound—something between a shriek and a gasp of pure exasperated sexual frustration—she launched herself fully into Azriel’s lap.

Azriel barely had time to blink before—

WHUMP.

A pillow hit him square in the face.

Then again.

WHUMP. WHUMP. WHUMP.

“Y/N—” he choked, trying to grab her wrists. “Y/N—”

She straddled him, knees on either side of his thighs, hair wild and falling into her face, eyes blazing, and just kept hitting him with the pillow.

“You. Smug. Bastard. That. Voice. Is. A. Warcrime!”

WHUMP. WHUMP. WHUMP.

Azriel’s shadows scattered in shock, clearly not sure whether to defend him or help Y/N.

Cassian was on his back on the floor, kicking his legs in hysterical laughter. “She snapped, I told you! She SNAPPED!”

Nesta smirked, folding her arms. “I like her more every day.”

Feyre was howling now, clinging to Rhys who looked like he’d aged ten years in the last five minutes. “I don’t even know who I’m rooting for anymore!”

Lucien murmured to Elain, “Should we look away?”

Elain: “I want to…but I can’t.”

Mor had completely lost it, tears running down her cheeks. “This is the best night of my life. I’m going to commission Feyre to paint this.”

Azriel had given up trying to stop her. He just sat there, letting her rain down justice, biting back laughter—though his shadows were trembling, and his smile was only growing wider the more she attacked.

“Mercy,” he said finally, shielding his face with one hand, catching the pillow with the other. “I surrender.”

“You do not!” Y/N shouted, WHACKING him again. “You think you can just ruin my brain in front of everyone and get away with it?!”

“Technically, you climbed into my lap,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

WHACK.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

WHACK.

“You’re not allowed to be hot and smug at the same time!”

Azriel caught the pillow again and suddenly flipped them, faster than anyone could react. Y/N gasped as her back hit the cushions beneath him, the pillow pinned between them, his body covering hers. Shadows coiled around them like a barrier, separating them from the howling laughter around the room.

He leaned close, nose brushing hers.

His voice, damn him, dropped again—

“You like me best like this.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Her fingers fisted in the front of his shirt.

Cassian yelled from the floor, “STOP! I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE EXPOSED TO THIS MUCH TENSION!”

Amren stood and dusted off her pants. “Alright. That’s enough. If they start dry-humping on this couch, I’m burning the place down.”

Azriel looked at her without moving. “We’d at least move to the guest room.”

WHACK. The pillow hit him one more time.

Y/N, face flushed and breathless, just stared up at him and muttered:

“…You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Azriel’s grin was all teeth and shadows.

“We both know that’s a lie.”

And every single person in that living room just lost it.

Y/N made a noise—a sound that wasn’t even a word, more like the wail of someone at the very edge of sanity and desire. A feral, strangled growl of pure exasperated chaos.

Then—

Her hands flew up.

And she wrapped them around Azriel’s throat.

Not tight—just enough to shake him.

Azriel let it happen.

His head bobbed slightly as she rattled him like a goblet of wine she was about to shatter. “I hate you!” she half-snarled, half-whimpered, glaring into his stupidly beautiful, smug, night-kissed face.

Azriel didn’t fight back. Just sat there on top of her with that infuriating little smirk tugging at his lips, shadows dancing gleefully behind him like they lived for this exact brand of foreplay.

“You are insufferable,” she hissed, still shaking him, face flushed, heart pounding.

Azriel blinked at her, calm as ever, and asked in the softest, silkiest voice:

“Harder?”

Cassian screamed. “I’M GOING TO ASCEND. AZRIEL’S KINKY. I CALLED IT. I KNEW IT.”

Feyre launched a pillow at him. Rhys tackled him with another.

Lucien actually choked on air and wheezed, “Is this what mating bonds are supposed to be like? Is this…normal?!”

Mor fell off the couch this time, full-on cackling.

Elain had gone completely still, blinking very slowly like her brain was buffering.

Nesta looked like she’d just been handed her favorite wine and a front-row seat to the greatest soap opera in Prythian. “I’m learning things I can never unlearn.”

Y/N released his throat with a groan of utter despair and let her arms flop back down against the cushions.

Azriel, absolutely pleased with himself, leaned down again until his nose brushed hers, shadows still coiling like smug little bastards.

“Finished?” he asked, voice all dark silk.

Y/N stared up at him with narrowed eyes and a trembling lip.

“…No,” she said.

Then she pulled him down by the collar and bit his jaw.

Azriel groaned, low and sharp, the kind that made everyone in the room turn to stone.

Cassian’s voice, faint: “I don’t know if I’m scared or impressed or—actually, no, I’m just scared.”

Rhys looked like he wanted to bury himself in the floor. “Mother above. Take me now.”

Amren drained her glass and muttered, “I told you. We should’ve just let her kill him that day.”

Mor was wheezing, pointing at Azriel. “He’s not even pretending to be cool anymore!”

Azriel, who was now half-lost in Y/N’s hair, let out a satisfied sigh against her ear.

“Still sleeping on the couch?” he murmured.

Y/N’s voice came out breathless, dangerous.

“You’re lucky I don’t banish you to the Illyrian mountains.”

Azriel nuzzled her. “You’d miss me by sundown.”

And Y/N—poor, flustered, still-fuming Y/N—just groaned again and muttered:

“Mother help me, I would.”

The entire Inner Circle groaned in unison.

Cassian had dragged a blanket off the couch and was now dramatically wrapping himself in it, rocking back and forth on the floor like a war survivor. “They’re saying the cutest filth to each other. I can’t live like this. I can’t go on. I need therapy. I need a temple. I need to bathe in salt.”

Nesta kicked him lightly. “You’re the one who started this.”

“I didn’t know it would become a religious experience!” he shot back, clutching the blanket tighter. “He whispered ‘harder’ while being choked—I can never look him in the eyes again.”

Feyre had officially surrendered, head in Rhys’s lap as she weakly muttered, “This is our house. Our house. We have a child. A toddler. We had dinner here an hour ago.”

Rhys was staring blankly at the ceiling. “We should burn the furniture.”

Azriel had not moved.

Still straddling Y/N, his chest rising and falling a bit faster now, jaw still tingling from where she’d bitten him. His shadows rolled lazily over her hips, slipping under the hem of her shirt like they knew no shame, brushing her skin like they were claiming her all over again.

Y/N glared up at him, cheeks burning, breath coming fast.

“I will get revenge for this,” she hissed. “This humiliation. This entire performance.”

Azriel only smiled, infuriatingly calm. “Then I look forward to it.”

WHUMP.

She hit him in the chest with the pillow again.

WHUMP.

He caught it and held it there, pinning her hands beneath his, voice low.

“Or you could surrender now. I’ll go easy on you… maybe.”

Her eyes blazed.

“You want surrender?” she whispered.

And then—in front of everyone—she arched up and bit his collarbone.

Azriel made a sound that could only be described as a choked growl, his wings flaring just a bit, shadows suddenly swirling like a storm.

Mor shrieked. “OH MY GODS.”

Cassian threw the blanket over his entire head. “I’M DEAD. BURY ME WITH HONOR.”

Lucien stood up and announced, “I’m going to go walk into the Sidra and never come back.”

Elain, softly: “I didn’t even know Fae could blush that much.”

Amren just stood, hands on her hips, and said, “Someone bring the child. Let him see what he must never become.”

Azriel looked like he was this close to losing every last shred of composure. His fingers curled around Y/N’s hips, grip possessive, eyes glowing faintly gold in the low light.

Y/N’s voice was a purr now, dangerous and smug. “Still think I’m the one surrendering?”

Azriel blinked down at her—and then, in the most unbothered voice possible, purred back:

“I’m letting you win.”

Y/N howled in rage and launched the pillow at his head again.

Mor collapsed in screaming laughter.

Cassian rolled onto his side and yelled into the floor:

“WHEN THEY GET MARRIED WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE.”

Nesta, dry as bone, replied, “Good. Maybe then we’ll have peace.”

And Feyre just reached for the wine bottle with one trembling hand.

“…I need three glasses just to forget tonight even happened.”

Azriel was laughing now—an actual full-on laugh, rare and wicked and infuriatingly attractive, his head tilted back slightly as Y/N shoved at his chest again, huffing like a dragon about to breathe literal star fire.

“You’re not letting me win,” she snapped, trying to sit up—only for him to lean down again and trap her with his body, his smirk infuriatingly close.

“Oh, but I am,” he purred, his voice brushing over her skin like velvet wrapped in shadows. “Letting you think you have the upper hand… while I enjoy the view.”

Y/N’s eyes blazed. “You are unbelievable.”

“And yet…” Azriel hummed, brushing his nose lightly along her jaw, just enough to make her entire soul glitch, “you’re still under me.”

There was a pause.

And then—Y/N’s voice went low and dangerous, her accent cutting through like a blade of silk.

“Fine.”

She grinned slowly.

“Let me show you what I do to people who underestimate me.”

Everyone in the room simultaneously—

“OH MY GODS.”

Cassian, muffled under his blanket: “SHE’S GONNA DOM HIM I KNEW IT—”

Feyre was openly drinking from the wine bottle now. “Rhys, portal me to Hewn City. I’d rather deal with Keir.”

Rhys, wide-eyed, whispered, “They’re worse than us.”

Mor was gone, rolling off the couch, clutching her ribs. “I can’t. I can’t—this is the best mating bond I’ve ever witnessed—how are they not combusting?!”

Nesta gave a sharp nod. “I give them ten minutes before they disappear upstairs.”

“Five,” Amren said flatly. “Three if he says anything else in that voice.”

Lucien had left the room. Vanished. There was no trace of him. Smart man.

Azriel’s shadows coiled tighter around Y/N’s waist, amused and pleased, while she leaned up again and whispered something in his ear—inaudible to the others, but it made his breath hitch, his hands tighten around her hips, his wings flex like he was very suddenly and urgently remembering he had a mate, and that she was his.

Cassian peeked out from under his blanket. “Did she just—did she say something or—did his soul just exit his body?”

Azriel was still for a heartbeat. Two.

Then he stood.

Effortlessly. With Y/N still in his arms.

She let out a very pleased, smug hum, arms twining around his neck, chin perched on his shoulder.

“Don’t wait up,” she said sweetly over his shoulder.

Cassian dramatically fell back onto the rug. “THEY’RE LEAVING. THEY’RE DOING THE THING. ABANDON SHIP.”

Rhys, cradling a glass of wine now, muttered, “I am the High Lord. I should be able to kick people out of my house.”

“Should being the key word,” Feyre muttered, pouring herself another glass and handing one to Nesta.

Amren raised her empty glass. “May the walls stay standing.”

“Unlikely,” Mor replied, still giggling. “But we’ll have fun guessing what breaks first.”

And with that, Azriel and Y/N disappeared up the stairs, shadows curling behind them like curtains closing on a performance that had left the audience in awe, horror, and unholy amounts of secondhand arousal.

[thehighladywrites]

acotar men + twitter nsfw links.

“uh-huh, come play with my pussy!”

pairing: acotar men x f!reader

summary: visual links of how the acotar men fuck 😉

warnings: nsfw, porn links, squirting, handjobs, blowjobs, rough sex, teasing, spitting, slapping, public sex, messy makeout session

amara’s note: yum and if you can’t see the links, remove safe search on web reader then go back to twitter

azriel

when everyone’s out

eating you out

backshots pov

cross-eyed fingering

head game goes crazy!

put it in and let’s watch tv!

fingering turns you into a squirting mess

jerking off inside

hungry!

rhysand

can i suck your tits while you ride?

pussy eating champ!

rubbing your clit every morning

slow strokes hit so deep!

arching just the way he likes it

touchy feely

can’t keep my hands off your cock, sorry

take it off, i want it raw

cassian

i miss you, let’s facetime later

sloppy, sloppy makeout session

drooling for a taste

size difference? yes!

let’s make a movie but you gotta be quiet!

you said you were stressed? let me take care of you

creampie compilation

giddy up cowgirl!

throat grab

eris

gotta tease before entering

couch fun

be my personal fucktoy

think you can take it all?

post argument sex

i really, really wanna suck you off

69 double pleasure

deepthroat training

lucien

cumming on his cock

the size difference is crazy

he fucks roughly when he’s mad

no one loves titty fucking more than him

slow handjobs is the quickest way to get bent

lucien found your toy and uses it on you

facial

late night quickie

[inkedinshadows]

Double-edged Desires

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader x Eris

Summary: Azriel and Eris find themselves having to share a mate, and being away during the mating frenzy is never easy. For any one of you.

Warnings: smut, threesome, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, language

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: based on this request! Okay so, this turned into so much more than planned... I've never written Azriel and Eris together before tho, so for every Azris shipper out there, pls have mercy on me, but I actually like how it turned out. Especially cus I wasn't planning on anything beyond bickering and arguing for them and I fear I might have focused too much on them and not enough on y/n... and I didn't reread that many times, so excuse possible typose. Anyway okay bye enjoy <3

Azriel hated sharing a mate with Eris Vanserra.

It had been a shock to everyone when you discovered you had two mating bonds—with two very different males who couldn’t stand each other. They had argued at first over who should get to be with you, but you had been very adamant: you wouldn’t choose between them, and you would accept both bonds instead. The only thing left for them to do was accept your decision and try to make it work, doing their best to get along for your sake.

They had come to one important agreement: you always came first. In every situation. Your well-being, your happiness, your pleasure—all of it was their priority.

Which was why they had decided one of them should always be with you, especially now, during the first few weeks since your double mating ceremony, when the frenzy still hadn’t entirely passed.

But war and threats and death gods couldn’t be postponed, not even for you, and neither of them could refuse when they had to leave you for a few days to try to track down Koschei. They hadn’t talked much unless it was to discuss theories or mention you, but Azriel knew that, just like him, Eris was struggling.

Being away from you was a weight he could barely carry, and the frenzy only made it worse. Searching for clues and information helped, but when he lay down at night with nothing to do but think of you, Azriel would just stare at the ceiling for hours. It was the same for Eris—his shadows confirmed it in a whisper.

They could have helped each other, he supposed. After all, in the throes of passion, despite their focus on you, they had shared touches, kisses, sometimes more. And Azriel had long since stopped trying to convince himself he hadn’t enjoyed it. But he’d be damned before admitting it out loud. He was willing to bet it was the same for Eris, if his reactions to Azriel’s touch were any indication.

So they had spent days craving the touch of their mate—both of them knowing they could find some relief in each other and yet too stubborn to ask for it.

All that pent-up need and tension came crashing to the surface the moment they finally returned home and silently opened the door to your shared bedroom.

You were lying in bed, arms wrapped around your pillow, the sheets crumpled around your feet. A gentle breeze drifting in through the open window rustled the curtains, and the moonlight gave you an ethereal look as it bathed your sleeping form.

Your naked, sleeping form.

The sight was enough to stir a familiar hunger deep in Azriel’s core. His hand flexed at his side as if itching to reach out and touch you, and his Illyrian leathers were suddenly far too tight around his groin.

“Someone’s needy,” Eris whispered beside him, a tantalizing smirk curving his lips as always.

Azriel glanced at him—at the obvious bulge in his pants. “You’re one to talk.”

Eris’s annoying smirk only widened as he turned to face him. “Should we wake her?”

“No.” Azriel shot him a glare. “She’s sleeping.”

“Oh, come on, Shadowsinger.” Eris rolled his eyes. “She’s naked. We both know she doesn’t like sleeping that way. You really think it doesn’t mean anything?”

He knew Eris was right. It wasn’t hot enough yet to justify the open window, the discarded sheets, the lack of clothes. You were probably dealing with the same problem that had plagued him on the continent—surges of heat caused by the frenzy, which you usually handled by spending a good couple of hours locked inside with your mates. But they’d been away too long.

Eris took a step toward the bed, but Azriel shot out a hand and grabbed his arm to stop him. The redhead twirled around, an almost feral look in his amber eyes visible even in the darkness of the room.

“She needs me,” he seethed, yanking his arm free. At Azriel’s pointed look, he seemed to calm down. With a sigh, he added grudgingly, “Fine. Us. She needs us.”

Despite his own raging desire, despite the truth in Eris’s words and the need to touch you, taste you, bury himself inside you and never let go, Azriel still hesitated. You looked so peaceful as you slept—lips slightly parted, hair fanned out across the pillow, moonlight caressing your back and the curve of your ass.

“Just get changed and climb into bed, Vanserra,” he finally said. “Don’t you dare wake her up. You can wait until morning.”

No matter that he didn’t know how he would wait until morning while sleeping next to you, naked, after days of missing you.

The shuffling of sheets caught his attention, and both he and Eris turned just in time to see you stir slightly and roll onto your back. Azriel went rigid as your new position granted him a clear view of your body—from your soft breasts to the flare of your hips and the dip between your legs. Eris gasped softly at his side.

“Guys?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep. “Is that you?”

Both males immediately approached the bed, but Eris got there a second earlier. He flashed Azriel a gloating smile before reaching for you, running his slender fingers down your cheek.

“Hello, my darling,” he purred.

Azriel wanted to punch him in those perfect teeth.

Instead, he moved to your other side, wings tucked tight to his back so he could lean in close. “I'm sorry we woke you, angel,” he murmured. Unable to hold back any longer, he curled his hand around your waist, as if to pull you closer. Eris shot him a warning look, daring him to try.

“Don’t be,” you replied with a sleepy smile. “I’m not.”

You stretched with a soft hum, and Azriel's fingers squeezed you a bit tighter. Did you do it on purpose? Or were you just naively unaware of the effect you had on him? On both of them?

Lowering your arms again, your hands found their way to both their cheeks—one in each palm, your touch gentle as you welcomed them home.

“So,” you began, all traces of sleep gone from your voice, replaced by a teasing tilt, “who's getting the first kiss?”

They both moved, but Azriel was faster this time. His mouth found yours, lips finally meeting again, tongues moving in a familiar rhythm. But the tenderness of the kiss was short-lived as the frenzy overtook you both.

Your hand slipped from Eris's cheek to tangle in Azriel's hair, pulling him closer and drawing a low groan from his chest. His arm wrapped more securely around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and he was only dimly aware of Eris kissing your neck as he got lost in the hungry need to claim your mouth and every other inch of you.

But you pulled back before he could go further.

A satisfied smile graced your lips, but you didn't give him time to act. Instead, you tugged on Eris’s hair.

The Heir of Autumn lifted his head, and Azriel could only watch as the two of you shared a kiss as passionate as the one you'd shared with him.

He didn't know how you did it, but you always managed to split your time and your affection equally between your two mates. He loved that about you. It meant he didn't have to worry about you favoring and focusing only on Eris—which he was grateful for—but it also meant that you wouldn't favor and focus only on him.

Azriel shifted to lie more comfortably on the bed, planting a trail of open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone to your soft breasts. He captured one nipple between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue while kneading your other breast with his hand.

The scent of your arousal soon filled the room and Azriel's senses. After days away from you, it made him need you the way he needed air to breathe. More, even.

His hand caressed down your stomach to where he knew he'd find you already wet. But instead, he found Eris’s hand already there, his fingers buried inside you, pumping slowly. A low growl rumbled in his throat, but as if sensing it, Eris moved his thumb aside, granting Azriel access to your clit.

It wasn't enough, but it was better than nothing.

You broke off your kiss with Eris when a moan spilled from your lips. Squirming between them, you spread your legs wider in a silent request for more.

“I’ve missed you,” Azriel murmured, releasing your nipple to look up at you, the pad of his thumb pressed firmly against your clit.

Of course, Eris had to chime in and steal your attention. “I’ve missed you more,” he added, pushing his fingers deeper inside you and drawing another moan.

“Guys,” you chuckled, though your voice was a little breathless, “I’ve missed you too. Both of you.” Your hands reached out to palm the bulges in their pants. “And I need you…”

They both sucked in a breath, but while Azriel pressed himself eagerly into your touch, ready to peel off his fighting leathers and bury himself inside you, Eris still didn’t withdraw his fingers from your cunt.

Azriel shot him a glare, but the redhead only smirked before positioning himself between your legs. “You should learn the art of patience, Shadowsinger,” he drawled, then he lowered his head and closed his lips around your clit.

A wave of annoyance surged through Azriel at the teasing reprimand, as if he hadn’t spent hours worshipping you and making sure you were fully satisfied before ever allowing himself to come. As sharing you with Eris wasn’t proof enough of just how patient he could be.

“Az…”

Your voice snapped him back to you. You were biting your lower lip, soft whimpers escaping you as Eris pleasured you, but your hands were now working to unbuckle Azriel's pants. When you finally got them undone, he stood to take them off, along with the rest of his clothes, discarding everything on the floor.

The moment he joined you again on the bed, your hands were on him. You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, giving him a gentle squeeze that made him buck in your grasp. He barely had time to steady himself before you propped up on one forearm and guided him into your mouth.

Azriel gasped, his eyes nearly rolling back as you swirled your tongue around his leaking tip. “Fuck…” he breathed. His fingers curled into your hair, and then he was thrusting shallowly into your warm, welcoming mouth.

Your muffled moans mixed with Azriel’s and with Eris’s pleased hums against your flesh every time your hips bucked—his lips and fingers relentless in their assault on your senses.

As you took Azriel deeper and relaxed your throat around him, he groaned, chest heaving and head falling back. His hips jerked forward instinctively, and you gagged around him, but you didn’t pull back or signal for him to stop. You simply looked up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, now wide with lust and fluttering beneath Eris’s expert touch.

Azriel knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not if you kept looking at him like that while sucking him off so eagerly. He managed to hold back for a few more moments, but as pressure built and release surged closer, he pulled out of your mouth with a grunt.

You gasped for air, lips still parted, as if expecting him to push back in.

Azriel’s hand moved from the back of your head to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Not yet, my love,” he murmured, his voice slightly breathless. “I don’t want to come just yet.”

Before you could reply, Eris lifted his head from between your thighs. “Should we let her come, though?” he mused as his fingers curled inside you, drawing a whimper from your lips. “She’s so close. I can tell.”

Azriel glanced at him, a silent understanding passing between them. You came first. Always. Even if it wasn't by his hand. Not yet, at least.

“What do you think, angel?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. “Should we let you come already?”

You nodded, eyes darting between the two of them. “Yes… I need to come.”

Azriel looked back at Eris with a smirk. “Make her come, Vanserra.”

Eris didn’t waste a second. He lowered his mouth to your cunt again, and as much as Azriel wanted to be the one tasting you and making you squirm and moan, he couldn't deny how incredibly arousing it was to watch Eris Vanserra feast on you.

Your hand slipped into Azriel's, holding onto him as your breaths turned into pants. He leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss while his other hand cupped your breast, skilled fingers teasing your nipple with practiced ease.

It was only a matter of moments before your body arched off the bed, your muscles tensing and trembling as you came on Eris’s tongue and fingers. Azriel swallowed your soft cries, unwilling to break the kiss just yet.

Only when you relaxed again did he pull back, at the same time Eris lifted his head. You were panting, one final whimper escaping your lips as Eris slowly pulled his fingers out of you. But just as he brought them to his mouth to lick them clean, you reached out to stop him.

“Wait,” you urged. “Let Azriel do it.”

Both males froze. Azriel's eyes widened in surprise, Eris merely arched a brow.

“You want him to suck my fingers?”

“Yes.” You pushed yourself up slightly, a sly smile curving your lips. “Give him a chance to taste me.”

It was just an excuse, Azriel knew that. Why taste you from Eris's fingers when he could do it directly from the source? But he also knew that you loved watching them touch not just you, but each other as well.

It was how it had all started, after all. You had asked them if they could please kiss each other, at least once, to know what it felt like. It had taken a little convincing, but neither of them could ever say no to you. You'd asked again after that. Sometimes not only for a kiss. And sometimes, you didn't even have to ask.

“Fine,” Azriel grumbled.

You and Eris both stared at him, likely surprised he'd agreed so quickly. But after fucking Eris while he went down on you, licking his fingers didn't seem like such a big deal.

The Heir of Autumn turned toward him, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “Eager, Shadowsinger?”

“Shut up, Vanserra,” he growled back. “Just give me your damn hand.”

Eris opened his mouth to reply, but you spoke first.

“Boys, boys, please,” you said with a soft laugh. “No need to get heated over this, don't you think?”

“Sorry, my love,” they answered in unison.

They exchanged an awkward glance, but then Eris lifted his hand, his lips curling in amusement.

Azriel didn't let himself second-guess it as he grabbed the male's wrist and tugged him closer. He glanced at you—still smiling at them—one last time before sealing his lips around the two fingers Eris had buried inside you.

Your slick release still coated them, the familiar taste flooding his mouth, laced now with something distinctly Eris. His skin.

Azriel swirled his tongue around the long digits, torn between savoring it or getting it over with quickly. He could already hear the comments Eris was certainly holding back, especially when that small smile curved into a full grin. Azriel shot him a glare, sharp enough to silence any smug remarks, but Eris just arched an amused brow in response.

Even after Azriel pulled away, the two males exchanged a long, heated glance—only for your voice to pull them both back to earth.

“Beautiful,” you murmured, your hungry gaze sweeping over them. Azriel felt desire stir in his gut again, but you turned to Eris, nodding toward his still clothed form. “Don’t you think it’s time you took those off?”

Eris nodded instantly. “Of course, my darling.”

As he stood to undress, Azriel moved to take the spot Eris had just vacated—right between your legs, where he wanted to be. But you shifted first, flashing him a playful wink as you got on your hands and knees.

Azriel grinned, his hands sliding over your hips. “Is this how you want me?”

Eris, now fully naked, settled in front of you. “Us, Shadowsinger,” he corrected smoothly. “It’s how she wants us.” He caressed your cheek. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

“C’mon, guys,” you mumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice, “you know you don’t need to fight over me. Why don’t you kiss each other while fucking me to make up for it?”

Azriel didn’t particularly care about the first part of that suggestion. All he heard was your permission to fuck you, and he was more than ready bury his cock inside you.

Eris replied with something Azriel didn’t listen to, one hand already tightening around your waist while he lined himself up with your dripping folds. Just brushing his cock against your cunt made his breath hitch. But instead of pushing inside, he glanced up and met Eris’s eyes over your back.

Despite their differences and apparent dislike for each other, they’d developed a silent language since your mating ceremony—one that didn't need words. After Eris positioned himself in front of you, his cock brushing your parted lips, he gave a small nod. That was all he took.

They thrust forward in perfect unison.

Three moans echoed in the room—yours the loudest of all—as they filled you from both ends.

It was heaven.

It had only been a few days since Azriel last felt you clench around his cock, but fuck, he had missed it. Would always miss it. Frenzy or not, he loved you.

You took them so beautifully, every movement of your body pulling them deeper, every sound from your lips making Azriel want to come far too soon. Their rhythm was one they'd practiced and refined—measured thrusts, timed perfectly, all for your pleasure.

But even as Azriel focused on the feel of you wrapped around him he felt Eris's gaze lingering on him.

“You heard the lady,” Eris said, his voice strained as your mouth moved over his cock. “So what are we waiting for?”

Azriel lifted a brow, hips never slowing. “Eager to kiss me, Eris?”

The Autumn Heir faltered for just a beat before his thrusts resumed, amber eyes glinting. He leaned forward, sliding deeper into your mouth—not that you minded, judging by the muffled moan you gave—and leaned ever closer to Azriel.

“You suck my fingers and suddenly you use my first name?” he drawled.

Azriel blinked. He hadn’t even realized he'd said it. It had just come out naturally.

He wondered, briefly, how it would feel to hear Eris say his name in return.

“Shut up,” he muttered instead.

Still holding your waist with one hand, he reached up with the other and pulled Eris closer. Their mouths met in a heated, desperate kiss—both of them trying to take control, neither of them willing to give it.

The room filled with sound—skin on skin, soft gasps and muffled moans, the creak of the bed frame, and the wet, urgent heat of their kiss.

And as your body clenched around him and Eris's tongue slid against his, Azriel knew.

He was exactly where he was meant to be.

With his mate, and with whatever Eris Vanserra was starting to become.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34 @yesiamthatwierd

[prythianpages]

Protect Me From What I Want | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader ft Azriel | After finding out you're carrying his child, Eris makes a sudden & unexpected visit to Day Court.

a/n: This is pt.7 to my recent Eris series, approx 4K.

warnings: angst (your turn breaking eris's heart), reader is pregnant/ hidden pregnancy trope

Eris did his best to focus.

Someone was speaking. Arguing, most likely. Their voices barely registered in his ears. He was nearly glad Azriel had lunged at him earlier. At least it gave him an excuse for the erratic and uneven rhythm of his pulse. 

He didn’t flinch when Feyre’s fire magic accidentally seared through his sleeve and marked his skin. He said his piece when he needed to, managed to string together words that sounded intelligent, diplomatic even.

But there was a war playing out on his face, different to the current war with Hybern and far more personal.

She carries a child.

The words were a hammer against his ribs.

A child you’ll never meet.

They echoed. Louder each time.

She carries a child.

A child, a child, a child…

His mouth tasted like ash and his lungs felt tight. His body was here but his mind was not. It had fled to you the moment he heard those words. The female he had condemned to heartbreak. The female who now bore his child.

He snuck a glance at Azriel, finding reserved emotions on his face. His shadows were the only expressive thing about him as they fluttered about. Azriel met his gaze, a silent storm still raging in the shadowsinger’s eyes. The tension between the two was sharp, the two of them sharing a mutual thought. You.  

Neither of them moved until Feyre placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. She steered his attention toward a conversation with her and Rhysand, sneaking a wary look at Eris herself. The moment Azriel looked away, Eris didn’t hesitate. He seized the sliver of opportunity, ignoring the stares from his father and brothers that were burning into his back. 

With a sharp breath, he winnowed and headed straight for Day Court.

This was pure desperation. 

There was no strategy, no carefully laid plan...and Eris Vanserra never moved without a plan.

He shouldn’t be here. He should be heading back to Autumn, facing the fallout of the meeting, weathering his father’s fury. He was sure there would be consequences to pay for Azriel’s attack as Beron would see it as humiliating. 

You’d be returning to Autumn soon anyway, given the recall of the emissaries. Had the soldiers he dispatched to escort you and your brother back already arrived here? Should he have found them first, disguised himself among them?

Time was slipping. He wasn’t sure if Helion would return tonight or worse, if Azriel would somehow get to you first. Eris needed to see you now, to confirm the truth for himself.

Helion’s palace was just as grand and ostentatious as the male himself. Gleaming marble floors, sweeping archways, gold glittering into every surface. It was open, and despite it being night, it was painfully bright. Fae lights sparkled along every corridor, making it difficult to blend in and hide. He had been here a couple of times before, which gave him some advantage. At least he knew where Helion typically housed his guests.

He slipped past another archway and that’s when the scent caught him. He’d always been fine tuned to your scent. He followed it with a pounding heart, hope and fear tangling in his throat. 

The trail led him to a door. This had to be your room. Your scent clung to the air, heavier than before. He stood there for a moment, hand raised, suddenly unsure. Were you inside? If he knocked, would you even answer, especially if you knew it was him on the other side? He wouldn’t blame you if you locked him out.

Still, he needed to see you. So taking a deep breath, his hand reached for the door and he decided to open it without knocking.

You weren’t inside. 

The breath he’d been holding for hours released in a hiss. His eyes swept the space, and panic clawed up his throat. What if you weren’t in Day Court anymore? What if Azriel had already taken you? No. That wasn’t possible. Azriel had been preoccupied with Feyre and Rhysand. And your brother—surely even he wouldn’t be foolish enough to let you travel back to Autumn unguarded, not in the middle of a war.

Eris decided to wait, even though his anxiety was gnawing at him like a restless beast. Perhaps you’d gone for an evening walk or were finishing supper. You’d have to return eventually. You lived here now, after all.

With more calm, he looked around the room, curious about the place you’ve been living in for the past weeks. Besides your scent, there was little about you in here. It was so different from your room back in Autumn, which was filled with knick knacks, tapestries and books.

He walked toward the bed, not surprised to find it neatly made. The scent on the sheets reached him and he inhaled deeply. He’d always found your scent sweet and soft and extremely soothing. There was something else woven into it now. A note he couldn’t quite place. It struck something deep in his chest. Had your scent already begun to change…?

He walked to the vanity beside your bed next. His fingers brushed against the silk night robe draped over the chair. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping. Cauldron, he shouldn’t even be here. But his restraint was unraveling fast, tugged loose by weeks of distance and guilt.

A flash of emerald green caught his eye—your jewelry box. You always had a love for pretty, shiny things. Gems had been your armor against the darkness of courtly life. Or at least that’s what you’d say with a grin every time you showed up with a new piece of jewelry. He had gifted you some pieces himself but his favorite on you was one of his rings. You often played with the golden band while holding his hand, twisting it around his finger until, one day, he slipped it off and slid it onto your thumb—the only finger it wouldn’t slip right off. He let you keep it. It looked better on you, anyway. He wondered if you still had it.

He opened the jewelry box…only to find it empty. 

No rings, no necklaces, no earrings. Strange. Just some bundles of herbs and–his heart stopped. He recognized the tiny vials of elixirs, having supplied them for his mother during her pregnancies. His hand trembled as he reached for one of the bottles, reading the label, and the confirmation pierced into his chest like a blade. 

There was no room for denial now. You were pregnant. With his child.

Before he could spiral too far, folded parchment caught his eye, tucked nearly beneath the vials. He reached for one of them, finding the shadowsinger’s signature glaring at him from the bottom of the page.

The paper crumpled in his fist, flames licking up the corners. He tried to smother the rage, but it sizzled in his blood. How long has he known? And why–why was it Azriel comforting when it should’ve been him?

His magic flared, barely reined in as he tossed the smoldering letter aside and reached for the other letter. The parchment was not as creased as the first and when he unfolded it, he recognized it to be your handwriting. His eyebrows furrowed, skimming over the top. It was addressed to your brother.

Dear Varek,

If you are reading this, this means I am no longer here in Day and perhaps, you’re looking for me…

His stomach dropped. You were planning to leave, to run away. His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the chair beside the vanity, Azriel’s earlier blow still throbbing in his ribs. That ache was nothing compared to the one swelling inside his chest. Where were you planning to run to? And with who? With Azriel? The only consolation was that the letter was not finished, meaning you definitely were still here.

The sound of footsteps approaching from the other side of the door had Eris abruptly sitting up. He folded the parchment back up, placing it back into your jewelry box and snapping it closed. He didn’t bother with the letter he found from Azriel. It was already reduced to the smallest pile of ashes on the floor. 

He heard your voice, bidding someone goodnight. Most likely your brother. He didn’t know why–maybe, it was a habit– but he spared a glance at the mirror. What he saw made him wince. Disheveled hair, bruised skin. He looked terrible. 

The door began to open and he began to panic as he was reminded he had no plan. What would he even say to you? Would the words “I’m sorry” ever be enough?

The door clicked behind you and the world stilled.

He turned.

You stood, only a few feet away, frozen. Your eyes locked on his, widening with disbelief and panic. Though the sun shined brightest in this court, you looked so pale and so tired. You looked fragile in a way that twisted his insides.

He had dreaded the idea of you moving on, of finding peace in someone else. But this? This was worse. You hadn’t moved on like he thought you had. Or was it the pregnancy weighing heavy on you? Either way, it was all his fault. He did this to you.

“Y/n—” he rose, moving toward you without thought.

But you flinched.

You flinched from him.

The step you took back felt like a thousand arrows to his back. You maintained as much distance as you could, pressed yourself into the wall as if it were the only thing keeping you from collapsing. He froze mid-step, his hands lowering.

His gaze then dropped instinctively to your middle.

The dress you were wearing flowed loosely over your frame. If there was a bump, it was easily hidden beneath the fabric. You wrapped your arms around yourself anyway, around your stomach, like a shield. As if to protect the baby from him.

And it broke him.

A ragged breath tore from his lungs as he met your gaze again. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. The way he looked at you. The way you held yourself. There was no denying it now. You knew he knew.

“Y/n—”

“No.” You shook your head, eyes shining. He knew you so well that he could see the war within you. The love that hadn’t quite died but also the pain that was beginning to take its place.

His own eyes burned, the emotion swelling too big for his chest. He tried again, one more step. 

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice trembling. “Don’t come closer.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He said but stopped, palms raised. 

Eris was here.

And you forgot how to breathe.

The same flame-colored hair, the same broad frame… but he looked different. Paler. Worn. His usually pristine coat hung unevenly on his shoulders, the right sleeve singed and torn as if he had walked through hell to get here.

And maybe he had.

You had thought about this moment for days, for weeks. Dreamed of it even in the quiet hours of the night, clutching your pillow as if it were him. The moment Eris would come running back to you, eyes full of regret, voice trembling as he begged you to come back with him. If he had come sooner, when your heart still ached with fresh longing, perhaps you might’ve said yes without hesitation.

But now, all you felt was sick, the dinner you just finished threatening to rise back up. Your mind felt dizzy, torn by both relief and something akin to dread. Too much time had passed. Too many nights spent grieving a version of him that no longer existed. Too many mornings convincing yourself you were better off without him. 

Your gaze remained locked, lips parted but useless, caught in the conflicting chaos of your own mind. You caught the exact moment his gaze dropped to your midsection, his amber eyes clouded with many emotions. Wonder, guilt and regret. So much regret.

He knew. You didn’t know how, didn’t know when or who–the only person you had told was Azriel…but he couldn’t have told him? Or could he? While you hadn’t explicitly asked him to keep it a secret, you thought he understood the weight of it. 

Oh, it didn’t matter.

Because now Eris knew.

And gods, the way he was looking at you…

Your arms folded tightly around yourself instinctively. Not to hide the baby, but to protect it. From him. From the pain, from the man who once said you were a mistake. A part of you was scared to hear what he had to say. The baby may have come unexpectedly but you refused to see it as something to regret.

Eris didn’t come any closer, respecting your wishes. “I just needed to see you,” he said quietly, voice fraying at the edges.

Your heart stuttered. Mother above, how many nights had you dreamt of hearing his voice again? And how many more had you begged the Cauldron to silence it from your mind forever so it would no longer haunt you?

“For what?” you managed, blinking rapidly to keep your tears from falling. You would not let him see how ruined you were. Drawing in a trembling breath, you summoned whatever strength remained, and lifted your chin. “So you could laugh at me again?”

He drew back like you’d struck him and your gaze drifted to his neck, catching sight of bruises littering his neck. They looked painful. Was he hurt? Who had done that to him? Your fingers twitched at your side, instinctively wanting to reach out. You pulled them into fists instead. 

No, you stopped yourself. Don’t do that.

“I wouldn’t…” Eris said, his voice hoarse as he struggled with himself. You’d never seen him at a loss for words.  “I wouldn’t have laughed. I–you left Autumn so suddenly, with…” His gaze dropped again to your stomach. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“Now you care?” You hissed at him, the heartbreak in your chest morphing into anger. “You tossed me aside like I was nothing. Told me we were nothing. And now you show up—bruised and broken like that’s supposed to mean something. Did someone finally knock the arrogance out of you?” 

Your chest heaved with the fury you had tried so hard to bury. And then something inside you snapped, something deep beneath your ribcage. You didn’t know what it was, but suddenly, a flood of emotions surged through you, stirring your own. You felt so overwhelmed that you faltered back, your lips trembling.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” you said, steadying yourself even as the world threatened to tilt.  “You’re too late. You don’t get to care now.”

A tear spilled down your cheek that Eris so desperately wanted to wipe away for you. You wiped it away yourself, roughly, and the glare you sent his way was devastating. Yet he deserved it and much more, if he was being honest.

“Yes–yes, I do. That is my baby too,” Eris replied, voice bordering on pleading. He didn’t even know where to begin. There were so many tangled threads, so many reasons why he did what he did.  "Listen, Y/n, I am so sorry. There’s so much you don’t know—things I didn’t know how to tell you—"

The door slammed open.

Both your heads snapped toward the sound, and there he was.

Azriel.

And Eris’s blood boiled, heat pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

The shadowsinger rushed toward you and you didn’t flinch. You didn’t pull away. You let him near. For once, Azriel showed some emotion, guilt written clearly across his face as he looked at you.

“I came as soon as I—” Azriel started, voice low and apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he didn’t... I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew.”

Oh.

Eris hated everything about this, his stomach twisting further. He saw it, the flash of betrayal in your eyes as the truth clicked into place. Your gaze shifted between them both, as if trying to decide who had hurt you more. You looked like you might collapse from the weight of it all, your stance faltering.

Azriel caught you immediately, one arm instantly curling around your waist, his shadows coiling protectively around your arms.

And once again, you let him touch you, as if silently accepting his apology. That was the moment something inside Eris snapped. A sound low and primal rumbled from deep within Eris’s chest. You froze, body tensing at the sound.

Azriel stepped forward, placing himself between you and Eris, widening his stance as if preparing for a fight.

 “Get away from my mate,” Eris snarled, the words dragged from his throat like fire.

The room went silent, even Eris’s breath stilled. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Not like this. Not with you seeking comfort into someone else’s arms, not with another male standing between you. But the word had ripped free before he could stop it.

Mate.

He watched, with bated breath, as you turned back to him slowly like it physically hurt to do so. Your gaze met his and he saw it in your eyes before he felt it in his chest. 

A sudden warmth bloomed in his chest, sinking into his bones, threading into his veins. There you were. Your end of the bond. Bright and trembling and real. 

Eris staggered where he stood, his hand twitching at his side, wanting to reach out to you. The bond had been a thread inside him for longer than he could admit. It had been quiet and dormant, one he’d felt the shape of but never dared pull on in fear that it was all his imagination.

But now—now—your side flared to life. It was full of pain, of anger, and underneath it all, humming so faintly, he nearly wept. Love. You still loved him. At least, a part of you did. 

His chest clenched so tightly it hurt. He opened his mouth, the words on the edge of his tongue, trembling and desperate—Do you feel it now? Do you finally see what we are?—but the hope that flared in him was fragile, and it dwindled when your lips parted and your expression crumbled into something far more devastating.

“You knew,” you breathed in disbelief, voice breaking with betrayal. “You knew all this time…”

Eris swallowed hard. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” you repeated, the same words from earlier. They were sharper now, cutting into him.

“It does matter,” Eris said, stepping toward you, desperation leaking into every syllable. “You’re my mate and you’re carrying my child. That changes everything.”

His words made your expression darken. The grief in your eyes shifted, hardening into something colder, something angrier. “Don’t be ridiculous, Eris. Don’t make this into something it isn’t.”

Eris winced, recognizing those words instantly. The same words he had that night he broke your heart. The anguish flaring inside manifested onto his face, no longer having control over his emotions. He was growing more desperate by the minute. “Please,” he rasped but you turned your head.  “You have it all wrong. Let me explain—”

“You didn’t want me then,” you cut him off, eyes still fixed anywhere but on him.  “A bond changes nothing. A child changes nothing.”

“Just—please.” He took another step, but froze when you recoiled, when your hand clenched around Azriel’s forearm like a lifeline.

Azriel unsheathed his dagger with his free hand in one smooth, warning motion. “Don’t come any closer.” 

The fire in Eris’s veins was searing, flames licking at his fingertips. He turned back to you, eyes pleading urgently with you to look back at him. “Please, y/n. Just come back home with me. I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

“She’s not going back with you,” Azriel said, his tone sharp and final.

And Eris nearly lost it.

His vision tunneled, the edges of the room blurring beneath the heat of his rage. His jaw clenched so hard it became painful. 

Azriel had no right—no right—to keep you from him. No right to touch you. No right to be the one you leaned on. Not when the bond between you and Eris had finally revealed itself. Not when he was your mate. Not when it was supposed to be him holding you through the storm of your pain.

The very air around him rippled with heat as his magic surged. The flames at his fingertips pulsed with his fury, flickering with the kind of heat that could burn down villages. Across from him, Azriel’s shadows began to shift, writhing in a dance of opposition.

But Eris didn’t strike.

He couldn’t. You were too close to Azriel.

So he turned that rage into words, venom lacing every syllable. “Stay out of this, shadowsinger. Or better yet—be a good pet and crawl back to whatever dark corner Rhysand houses you in.”

Azriel didn’t flinch. He stood firm, unbothered by the power crackling around him. “I’m not leaving her.”

Eris’s voice was a growl. “She’s my mate.”

“Funny thing, Eris… ,” Azriel let out a dark chuckle. “I don’t care about bonds. The Cauldron doesn’t always get it right. Just ask your brother.”

Eris’s flames sputtered, then surged violently. His entire body shook with restraint, because all he wanted was to rip Azriel away from you, to gather you into his arms and never let go.

You’re mine, he wanted to scream. You’re mine and you always have been.

But he couldn’t say it. Not when you were looking at him like he was the enemy. Not when you clung to Azriel like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

Eris had never felt anything like this. This twisting, unbearable ache in his chest. The fury. The helplessness. The regret. Gods, he thought he was protecting you. Thought pushing you away would spare you the pain of being tied to him. He could’ve lived with your hatred—if it meant you were safe. He should’ve burned the whole damn world down before turning his back on you, no matter how scared he was back then.

Now, it was too late. And the cost of his grave mistake stared him in the face, trembling and wrapped in the arms of another male. The flames at his hands flickered and then died. He took a tentative step forward and when you didn’t shrink away, he took another, ignoring the warning glare Azriel sent his way. 

One hand reached toward you, shaking.

“Y/n,” he breathed your name like a prayer. “Please. Come back home with me.”

“I thought I said she’s not going back with you.”

“You don’t get to decide for her.” Eris seethed.

“Fine,” Azriel said with an infuriating calm, turning to you. “What do you want?”

Again, that silence stretched, long and suffocating. And again, you looked between them, between the male who had broken your heart and the one who now stood like your shield, his shadows curling protectively at your feet.

The bond thrummed painfully in Eris’s chest like a tether straining, pulling tight with every heartbeat. Then your eyes finally met his once more and he let everything fall away. His carefully constructed mask. His pride. His fury. All of it.

Eris dropped to his knees before you. “Please.”

His voice cracked on the word. It was a plea for forgiveness. It was hope in its most fragile form. The last thing he had left.

You stared at his outstretched hand, eyes brimming with unshed tears. When your fingers twitched at your side, just the slightest movement, his breath hitched. For a heartbeat, he believed. He believed that you might reach for him, might have it in you to hear him out and perhaps, even forgive him.

Eris held perfectly still, burning from the inside out, as if even a breath might scare you away.

But then—your gaze dropped. Your shoulders sagged, your head turning away and looking back at Azriel. “I want to leave,” you whispered, your voice soft and trembling, yet it shattered him all the same. 

“Far from here. Far from Autumn.”

The air punched from his lungs. You no longer trusted him. The bond raged like a wildfire, wild, desperate and screaming for you and your unborn child. He could only watch as shadows–Azriel’s shadows– wrapped around you and began to take what was once his.

And now, Eris finally understood what it meant to be completely and utterly shattered, torn apart from the inside by the one you loved the most.

a/n: I think this may be the angstiest piece I've written to date? Anyway, I think after this part, this series will consists drabbles/small scenes. I don't know which one to write first so please help me by voting here.

series taglist: @kodafics , @shinyghosteclipse, @marrass, @posierosie, @solanaaaaaaa

@tele86, @bubybubsters, @k-homosapien, @mariaxliliana, @kathren1sky-blog

@anainkandpaper, @icey--stars, @moonlovefairy, @hellohauntedturnstudent, @lucia-valentinaa,

@wrenisrad, @smol-grandpa, @sleepylunarwolf, @63angel, @anuttellaa

@anon1227 @paleidiot @thatacotargirl, @queenoffeysand , @slut4acotar @awkardnerd

@blueroseava , @lovetia , @historygeekqueen , @idk1027 ,@naturakaashi

@blightyblinders , @wolvesnravens , @galaxystern08 , @faeofthemoonandstars , @antisocial-architect

@webvics

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith, @xadenswhore, @kodafics

if you asked to be on the tag list & don't see your name here or on my general one, pls let me know! I'll keep track of them here.

[parkerslatte]

The Purest Kind of Love

Azriel x Fem!Reader x Eris Vanserra

Warnings: smut. mentions of abuse. mentions of torture. blood and injury. mentions of childbirth. inner circle being assholes. near death experience. [more warning will be given as story progresses]

Summary: Four years ago, Azriel and Y/N made a bargain. They would form a relationship until either of them find their mates, once that happens, their relationship would end. No tears. No arguments. That was how it would be. However once the four years pass, both Azriel and Y/N realise how they have settled down in the life they had built together.

At the celebration of the new Autumn High Lord, everything Y/N and Azriel had built comes crashing down as a mating bond snaps between Y/N and Eris. Staying true to the bargain, the relationship between Y/N and Azriel ends.

Though as Y/N and Eris get closer, through some kind of divine intervention, Azriel always seems to be around with the mated couple. Feeling arise and truths come to light the longer they all spend around each other. However, not everyone is approving of the budding relationship. Truths come to light and some may not be so positive.

Current Word Count: 18,530

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

TAGLIST CLOSED

•••

Contents:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Epilogue

A/N: Welcome to my new series I have coming out! Everything is planned and is a little bit longer than I originally intended though I cannot wait to share it with everyone!

[daycourtofficial]

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only, only one

Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel | WC: 3.5k | warnings: none

Summary: secrets threaten to swallow you whole as you work up the courage to tell Azriel about being his mate. Unfortunately, you aren’t the only one with secrets

Author’s note: this came from a draft I found BURIED okay I was looking for a different azris x reader draft but found this and had to finish it

Next part | Masterlist

Today was the day. Everything lined up - Feyre and Rhys were at the River House hosting an overnight play date for Nyx and one of his friends. Cassian and Nesta had taken some of the Valkyries to Day to see the pegasi. Mor was somewhere on the continent. Amren was likely at her apartment, but she came by less and less frequently these days.

The sun had just set, the night sky bright and endless as it hovered over the House of Wind. You and Azriel had the entire place to yourselves.

It was a sign from the Mother. You had to tell him. You stood before your mirror, wanting every piece of hair to fall perfectly into place. You took a few deep breaths, failing to calm the beating of your heart.

Everything was going to change. You smiled at your reflection, certain that everything will work out. It had to.

So what if Azriel had pined after two females that weren’t you? That didn’t matter. Not when he was always so kind to you, seeking you out during parties. He always sat next to you at dinner, the two of you fully engaged in conversation the entire time.

His pining toward Mor and then Elain always felt strange to you. It never happened around you, you hardly saw him even glance their way. You only knew about it from Cassian’s love of gossip.

“It should be you he focuses on - the two of you are so similar. And so annoying.”

His words likely meant nothing to him - especially the end when you had stolen food from his plate. But his words echoed in your mind, echoed around the string nearly suffocating your heart.

The two of you were well suited. You complemented each other. Surely, if he didn’t love you now, Azriel could grow to love you. It should be easy.

Would you want someone who had to grow to love you? You shook the thought from your head, certain the Mother wouldn’t lead you astray like that.

Your thoughts led you outside his door. The words had laid dormant on your tongue for too long, weeks going by without admitting the truth to him.

You knocked on his door quickly, not wanting nerves to get the better of you. You couldn’t help lightly bouncing on your feet as you waited, listening to the shuffles behind the door. Each sound of footfalls made your heart rate quicken.

Azriel poked his head out the door, a small smile when his eyes fell on you.

“Sorry to intrude, but can I come in? I want to talk to you about something.”

Surprise at your demand showed on his face, but he opened the door wider, letting you come in. The sight of you in his room wasn’t unheard of, but you had never so boldly asked to come in.

You walked through the threshold, noticing immediately a suitcase on his bed, nearly full before his shadows quickly closed and latched the lid.

“Are you going somewhere?” You couldn’t stop the question from coming out.

“I was going to take a few days to myself. Enjoy some quiet at my cabin.”

Your heart had been bursting with secrets lately. Months ago Azriel had confided in you he had a cabin somewhere he liked to hide away in when he needed to get away.

That tidbit of knowledge was secured deep in your fantasies, a story you told yourself before going to sleep about him whisking you away to his cabin.

“Oh - well, I hope I’m not interrupting your need for peace.”

“Nonsense. I find your presence quite peaceful, anyway.” Your heart was in your throat at his words. His casual admittance giving you just enough strength to be bold.

“That is very kind of you. I find your presence to also be peaceful and delightful.” He smiled down at you, his full attention on your words. That was always what drew you to Azriel the most. You have always had his full attention whenever you spoke to him, and he always recalled the smallest of details from your conversations.

He saw you. He noticed you. The Mother made him for you and you for him.

“Well, Azriel. We are friends, right? And friends tell each other things and are honest, right?” You wrung your hands with your fingers, needing something to expel your nervous energy.

“Yes. I am always honest with you.” His words came out with a slight chuckle, a tilt to his head, wondering where this was going.

“Great. I have actually been keeping something from you for a while. At first I had to take some time myself to understand, and then I was waiting for the right time.”

“Go on.” He looked radiant with the light of the moon cutting across his face. No male could compare to his beauty. His words of encouragement and his smile at your nervousness were all you needed for the words to come tumbling out.

“I am in love with you. I have been for a long time, and I kept it to myself, but a few weeks ago, the mating bond snapped and I-“

“A mating bond?” His words were sharper than you had ever heard him speak to you before. His shadows swirled around your feet, occasionally jumping and leaping to reach you, but never quite making it.

“Yes, it-“

“You’re certain?” His words were making you shrink ever so slightly. The shadows had now begun swirling around the two of you, like they were trapping the two of you into a bubble.

“Yes, it-“

“To me?”

You tugged hard on the bond, pulling as hard as you could to release him from the shocked stupor he was in. It knocked him off balance, his feet stuttering forward before he righted himself. His scarred hands rubbed absently at his chest, his brows knitted in confusion.

“Let me finish, Azriel.” The shadows that had been swirling around the two of you floated down, sweeping across the floor. A few moved toward you, swirling around your body, helping you stay upright.

He didn’t listen to your words, only shook his head in response. He dragged his fingers down his face, muttering something you couldn’t quite make out.

He looked once more at you before he reached out, his hands taking hold of your shoulders before the two of you were whisked through space in his shadows.

“Azriel!” You pushed off of him the second you felt solid ground beneath your feet, putting distance between the two of you. “This is not what I hoped-“

“Be quiet.”

Your eyes widened at his words, taking a moment to take in your surroundings. He winnowed the two of you right in front of a cabin door, the structure surrounded on all sides by thick forest.

“Okay Azriel, you could have just rejected me - not bring me to who knows where.” You ignored his command, irritation lacing your words.

“No, I just- wait here.” He shut the door quickly behind himself, leaving you alone. Your heart felt heavy as you looked about the woods, uncertain if you wanted to know what laid in the darkness.

Whatever scent lingered from beneath the door was familiar, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. You were stuck - you could winnow home, you supposed. But why did he bring you out here? Would he leave you out here, wanting to know how long you’d stay and wait? Surely the bond would make him protective enough to let you die from the elements, right? The thought caused the string around your heart to play a sad, out of tune note.

You weren’t sure how long you were standing outside, a brisk breeze making you well aware of your lack of coat. The door opened once more, Azriel coming back out before he quickly shut the door behind himself, not letting you see inside.

“Az, what are we doing here?”

He held out a hand to you, his other back on the knob of the door.

“I have never brought anyone from the Inner Circle here.”

You grew frustrated at his words, a tiny hint of pride at being the first of your family to visit here. You accepted his hand, noting there really wasn’t any other decision you could make.

He opened the door and you took in the space. It was small - just the one room connected to a kitchen. It held a massive bed - somehow larger than the ones in Velaris. There wasn’t much in the way of decorations - the house was void of any indication of who lived in it. Your eyes stopped on the redheaded male who was moving about the kitchen, the sight of him short circuiting your brain.

“You said you’ve never brought anyone else here before.” Somehow amidst all the confusion, that was what your brain settled on.

“He said no one from the Inner Circle had been here. The door’s not as thick as you are, Azriel.” Eris’s voice was full of chastisement, clicking his tongue at the end to accent his point. You glanced between the pair, even more confused now that Eris had opened his mouth, the comment almost affectionate.

You shook your head, dismissing the thought. “Look, Az, I get it, this is something you don’t want-“ “Now I didn’t say-“ “so we can just go back to Velaris and I can move out.”

“What is she talking about?” Eris’s voice was loud to accomodate for the banging of pots and pans. He was cooking something, the cherry on top of ‘well, why not this too?’

You looked up at the ceiling, fighting back tears to what has quickly become the worst moment of your life. This was all so strange, you were certain you had hit your head somewhere, your body likely unconscious in Azriel’s room. Maybe none of this happened, and you fell on something in your room.

When you woke up, you were certainly never confessing to him.

“Tell him.” Azriel’s prodding words confused you even more. You looked at him in bewilderment. He had the same look on his face he does when he’s about to win a card game - no matter what move you make, he’s right in his assessment.

“Tell him? Azriel I think telling someone they’re your mate and them not wanting it is embarrassing enough, why do we have to drag in a spectator?”

His face fell slightly, something pooling in his eyes you couldn’t quite make out.

“Why do you think Azriel is your mate?”

You cocked your head at Eris, never having officially met him. You would recognize him anywhere - the long red hair, the ornate clothes decorated with autumn leaves, the scent of bonfire and whiskey stuck to him.

No one in the Inner Circle had ever told you how stunning he was, his beauty making other males look like mortals next to him. Except Azriel.

“I assume we can skip the pleasantries, Eris. Every facet of this night is more confusing than the last. Why are you cooking?”

“Because otherwise I will die of starvation. Or be even more intolerable due to hunger.”

You wished for a wall behind you to bang your head into. They may have omitted his beauty, but they weren’t wrong about him being difficult.

“Why are you in Azriel’s cabin?”

“I asked my question first.”

“Well, Eris, if you must know the inner workings of my personal life, Azriel is my mate and instead of being happy or even indifferent he brought me here to you for some reason. Can I go now?” The tears started forming in the corner of your eye, your fist clenched as you spoke.

“No,” they replied in unison, not looking at you. They both mirrored each other, their crossed arms not giving anything away as they silently argued, unsure when Azriel moved closer to Eris. You could make out a few words from the hushed tones, but it was impossible to hear them.

It took you a moment to realize Eris had stopped cooking when Azriel approached. He was giving him his full attention as they spoke to each other.

This was a very odd dream indeed.

“I’ve felt a pull to you.” Azriel was still looking at Eris, and you weren’t certain who he was talking to until he shifted his eyes to you. “I have always been drawn to you, needed to be near you. I didn’t want to think we were mates, because Eris is my mate.”

You blinked multiple times, the idea trying to make itself comprehensible to you. You looked around, certain to find some trace Rhysand had built this imaginary reality as a practical joke.

“No, that's not possible. If it’s not me, it had to be because of Elain or Mor.”

Eris scoffed, his annoyance clear across his face, his movements becoming more hurried as he added things to a pot. “Sorry to disappoint the both of you by not having breasts.”

“Eris.” An admonishing hiss from Azriel caused the Autumn heir to roll his eyes, not even looking at the glare the shadowsinger sent him.

“Forgive me. Forgive my mate for his deceits being so well done it fooled even his female mate.” Eris refused to pull his focus from his cooking, hardly acknowledging you with his body.

“Azriel and I have been together for some time, a rouse that is perpetuated by his supposed infatuation with the other females close to you.”

For some reason, his words stung. Azriel had been faking affection for them? If he could do that, why didn't he fake them for you?

As if reading your thoughts, Eris continued. “He was feeling something for you, something he hardly wanted to admit to me. But we have been looking into it. It seems no one has ever had this.”

“Had what?”

“Two mates.”

Your head was reeling, a migraine forming as you tried to process every bit of information you were given. Something gnawed at you - some insecurity making itself known in this odd circumstance.

“Were you getting close to me as an experiment?” That drew Azriel from his silence, his steps moving toward you.

“No - gods no. I like you, I like spending time with you. I’m drawn to you - I can’t help it.”

“He yearns.” Eris’s voice was flat as hid words came out, Azriel quickly spun on his heel and looked toward his mate.

His other mate, you supposed.

“I do not yearn.”

“You complain about missing her when you’re here.” Azriel’s cheeks heated in embarrassment, the first sense of affection you've felt from him since arriving.

Eris stopped stirring, turning his full attention toward you. His gaze left heat all across you, as if his eyes could penetrate your clothes, seeing your body and soul beneath. You can’t tell if he’s making the room warmer or if that’s just you.

“In the concept of honesty, I have to say you are… something.” His words broke you out of whatever stupor you had found yourself in.

“Thank you, Eris. That is the best non-descript compliment or insult I’ve ever received.”

“It’s not an insult.” You scoffed, uncertain how to respond. He straightened himself, standing tall as he continued. “Do you wish for me to wax poetic about my mate’s new mate? Divine, delectable, take your pick.”

Was he flirting with you? The notion made no sense, but something Azriel told you about Eris years ago had always stuck.

If you want to get anywhere with him, you have to play his game.

“My mate has a very pretty mate.” It was true and something Eris was more than aware of about himself. He scoffed, picking up a spoon and going back to cooking, but you continued. “Should I wax poetic about you, hm? Tell you all about how you look like a predator prepared to pounce and I’d be more than willing to be beneath you?”

Eris stopped his cooking, his spoonclattering as he took his time drinking you in.

“I thought you said she was timid and shy?” His question was directed at Azriel, but he kept looking at you. His gaze stayed on you, not wavering, seeing something he found interesting.

“That’s because Azriel runs at the potential for intimacy, I had to ease him into it.” Something close to a laugh escaped from Eris. His gaze finally moved toward the shadowsinger.

“I like her, Azriel. We can keep her.”

“I am not some toy to claim ownership to.” Eris paid you no mind, turning back to his cooking. You couldn’t figure out what he was making, but it smelled divine.

“Of course not, but you are my mate’s mate and that means I have to like you before making decisions about you.” Your heart stalled at his words, the air getting thinner around you.

“What do you mean by decisions?”

“Eris.” Azriel cut in for the first time in a while, and you would have forgotten about his presence if it hadn’t been for the bond humming.

“Well, I mean he is my mate already. He’s accepted the bond with me. If I didn’t like you, he’d just reject you.”

“He wouldn’t just-“ your words stopped, your statement unable to continue. Your throat went dry with the look Azriel gave Eris. It was a split second, but it was enough.

They clearly had discussed it - some topic they had mulled over several times, working through every scenario. Eris’s words were of such nonchalance, such subtle cruelty.

They would decide to shatter your heart without any thought or input from you.

It was getting hot, your clothes too much on your skin. Your breathing rose again, too shallow to fully take in a breath.

“So you’ve been- what? Keeping it a secret for months that Eris is your mate and that I’m your mate? Were you test running me this whole time?” Your voice came out squeaky, but you were too upset to care.

“No, I didn’t know-“ Azriel was scrambling, his eyes pleading with the truth. “I didn’t know, I was curious-“

“I mean, I knew you kept secrets, but this is- Eris and-“ your breaths were coming shorter and shorter, the cabin swaying slightly as it got harder to breathe. This couldn’t be real, it had to be some fictional reality. The bond in your chest was crying in agony, desperate for you to be closer to Azriel and to stop arguing.

“Azriel, she's self-destructing.” Eris didn’t move from his spot, continuing his cooking as if you had made an astute observation about the weather.

“I can see that.”

“Do something. She’s your mate.”

You pushed the hair from your face, straightening your shoulders. You blinked slowly, trying to clear your gaze. You had been a fool this whole time, that much was true. You were an experiment to Az - this whole time he had his suspicions, and you were nothing but a test subject he could drop at a moment’s notice. The collateral damage of your heart meant nothing to him.

He had Eris. Why would he want you?

“It’s clear now that you already have your hands full, Azriel. I’ll bow out respectfully.” The words came out cold, not a hint of the warmth you felt for Azriel laced them.

“Sweetheart-“

His shadows swirled around you, desperate to keep you close, to pull you closer to him. You batted them away, not wanting their comfort.

They knew. Azriel knew. Eris knew. This was all a joke to them.

“I’d be a fool to compete with Eris Vanserra over anything, including you Azriel. You’ve told me a hundred times how Autumn Court males sink their teeth into things and don’t let go.” Had his words been a warning? Had he been mated to him when he told you that? How far did these lies run? “Clearly you know from experience.”

You winnowed away, Azriel’s hand inches from where you stood. His shadows exploded, several moving around Eris, the Autumn heir batting them away with little effort.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Azriel directed all of his anger toward Eris.

“You were my mate first.”

“You practically pissed all over me, marking your territory. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut for me to speak!”

“Shall I hike up my leg? I thought such things didn’t interest you.”

Azriel breathed deeply, clenching and unclenching his fists to keep his anger in check.

“Besides, you wouldn’t speak. You clammed up.”

“We discussed this. You knew how important this was to me. This all went wrong.” Azriel was tugging at his hair, the bond swirling in his chest with your despair.

“Yes, yes. I know how my mate was quite taken with a female he lives with. Forgive me for not being thrilled.” Eris let the tiniest hint of hurt show on his face, his first display of emotion all night. Azriel spotted it immediately, his anger dissipating slightly.

“She might be your mate, too.” Azriel’s words were a whisper, a soft hope he was speaking into existence. The Mother wouldn’t give him two mates who hated each other, would she?

Eris gave a dismissive look Azriel’s way. “I suppose we’ll never know now.”

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Author’s note: any ideas for part two 👀

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage @slytherintaco @userxs-blog @emryb

Next part

[itsswritten]

when the sea calls for three | intro

Paring: Azriel x Reader x Eris

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: In the aftermath of war, peace reigns over the realms of Prythian, but the delicate balance hangs in the hands of two unlikely mediators—You and Lucien. As the newly appointed Emissaries of Peace, your duty is clear: maintain alliances, foster understanding between courts, and navigate the intricate webs of fae politics.

But when fate deals an unexpected twist, revealing that you possess not one, but two mates, the tranquillity you've worked so hard to uphold is suddenly threatened. Caught between two males who refuse to share, you find yourself thrust into a precarious position, torn between duty and desire.

What will you do and who will you choose?

I need you.

Those three words were all it took.

༄ 

In the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the room, flickering reflections of pinks and purples across the walls. Dawn Court had always been radiant, the sky, cobalt and rose. A sunrise all day long. You were proud to call it your home. 

You stood before the ornate mirror, fingers delicately adjusting the intricate buttons of your tunic. 

The decision to choose neutral clothing had been yours, a deliberate choice born from the realisation of what your new role weighed. You were to be a mediator, a peacekeeper, it only seemed fitting to don a uniform that symbolised your neutrality and dedication to maintaining balance among the realms.

The fabric shimmered with a subtle elegance, adorned with delicate motifs that whispered of the courts you now served. The tapestry of symbolism spoke something that words could not, of a new beginning, a new chapter– a time of peace.

The design along the back of your tunic, three majestic mountains rose proudly, their peaks reaching towards the heavens. Behind them, the sun emerged, casting its golden rays that spread warmth and light– a nod to your home.

In the left above, a fully fleshed sun beamed down upon the mountains, radiating its brilliance and vitality. To the right, three stars and a crescent moon were sewn with meticulous care, representing the rest of the solar courts and their celestial splendour.

On your left sleeve, leaves were hand stitched along your cuff,  bronze thread danced in a graceful swirl, climbing upwards towards your elbow, mirroring the silver icy shards that adorned the right sleeve. Autumn and Winter in perfect harmony. 

Around your collar, a delicate pattern of vines and roses intertwined, symbolising the beauty and vitality of the Spring Court's bloom. And along the trimmings of the tunic's bottom, waves swirled in a mesmerising dance, evoking the Summer Court's boundless energy and fluidity.

Your tunic jacket cascaded gracefully, halting just at your hips, while beneath it, a long, flowing cream pleated skirt billowed elegantly to the floor. With your hair initially draping freely, you gently pulled it forward, ensuring the intricate details adorning the back of your tunic were given their rightful moment to shine.

As you smoothed the fabric, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in the role you had been given. Playing a bridge between courts, and worlds. A mediator between the people. 

Politics had never really been something you relished in, but you were good with people, and good with your words. Qualities that your friend desperately convinced you, were integral to this role.

A soft knock on the door interrupted your reverie, and you turned to see Lucien, your friend, standing in the doorway. His mechanical eye wiring at the sight of you. He was wearing a similar tunic, one that was longer on his body but mirrored the designs of your own.

It was Lucien who had told you he needed you. 

I need you.

He had written to you one evening. His correspondences were usually lighthearted and filled with friendly banter, but this weighed heavily in a way that was so unlike him.

“I could really use your help.” Lucien had breathed, when you came to visit after his letter.

I need you. I need my friend. I need someone to lean on. I need someone to laugh with. It’s been too long. I miss you. 

Was what you heard. His message had been simple yet poignant, a plea for assistance and companionship.

You had always had a way with words and sounds. Understanding the gaps in between the breaths, the underlying emotions and intentions woven into each syllable. Most didn't realise what could be revealed in their words. How the octaves and melodic tones of their tongues sung of unspoken truths.

Lucien and you had shared a friendship that spanned many years, reaching back to your earliest memories of childhood. As children and teens, you had been inseparable, playmates in a time that now felt like a distant memory. However, when borders grew stricter and tensions mounted, those days were abruptly halted.

It wasn't until the dark days of Amarantha's reign that fate brought you back together, through the intervention of Nuan, a mutual friend. She was a skilled Alchemist of your court, who had aided Lucein in his healing, crafting his beautiful golden eye. And because he was no longer a part of Autumn, you were able to reconnect and your friendship flourished, even if it was predominantly through ink and parchment.

"Ready to face them?" he asked with a tight smile, his voice carrying a note of anticipation.

I’m nervous. Is what you heard under his words.

You returned his smile with a nod, a playful glint dancing in your eyes. “Of course, I was born ready Lucie” you replied, effortlessly flicking his nickname with a casual ease. 

Despite having a smart mouth now, Lucien was a name you often got tongue-tied in your younger years. Lucie had been a much easier sound to make, and you didn’t hesitate to use the endearing name when wanting to tease.

Lucien rolled his eyes, but your casual demeanour softened the nerves that had laced his previous words. That had been your intention.

Just one example of how your intuition always left you saying the right thing. Of course there were times this didn’t happen, but those occasions were extremely rare.

“We should decide which courts reside under our care before the meeting” Lucien began, striding in front of the mirror to adjust his own tunic. “And I have to say you’ve made more progress with Tamlin these past two months than I have in the past year," Lucien breathed, a hint of admiration in his voice while he smiled at you through the mirror.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "What, like it was hard?"

Tamlin's stubbornness had been a challenge, but your natural charisma and persuasion had proven effective in bridging the gap between his court and the others. His residents had at least started returning home, and thanks to your work, there was actually something for them to return to.

You huffed, before turning your friend around, pulling at his collar to adjust. Before tidying up his long auburn hair. 

"I can’t do both though Lucien. I'm not dealing with your brothers and Tamlin. That's too much, even for me” You remarked.

Lucien’s relationship with his brothers remained strained, the scars of their shared trauma running deep. Despite Beron’s demise, Eris was now Autumn’s High Lord. The brothers wounds were not so easily healed, and the weight of their history continued to cast a shadow over their interactions.

“Plus I do believe some forced proximity may do you and Tamlin some good” you pointed a look at him, referencing their damaged friendship.

Lucien bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing at you. He couldn’t help but envy how effortlessly you seemed to navigate the complexities of every situation, every conversation. Always knowing the right words to say, and the right actions to take. Qualities that had undoubtedly drawn him to seek your assistance in the first place. 

Qualities he forgot he would also be susceptible to.

"I'll look after Autumn and your hotheaded brothers. You deal with the depressed blondie," you suggested, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes.

"Fine," Lucien conceded, begrudgingly acknowledging the wisdom in your words.

“I want Dawn, it’s my home and Thesan would be heartbroken if I wasn’t his courtier,” you asserted confidently.

"Then I'll have Day," Lucien negotiated, a hint of determination in his tone.

As the conversation turned to the remaining courts, you paused, considering the options carefully. The Night Court held a particular significance for Lucien, given his mate's presence there, but you were keenly aware of the tension that still lingered between them.

"I can take Night if that helps. I've already been the one updating their Spymaster recently anyway," you offered, your voice steady as you finally finished straightening up Lucien. Pulling your hands swiftly behind your back.

He mirrored your pose "Then I will manage Winter," Lucien conceded, a sense of resignation colouring his words. He wasn’t very fond of the cold, but neither were you. 

But he was happy to take this one for you, as you had taken Autumn and Night for him.

"Summer is mine. You can have the humans, your Band of Rejects or whatever they're called," you remarked playfully.

"Exiles," Lucien corrected with a humorous purr, a brief flicker of amusement softening his eyes.

“Apologies…band of exile…-d rejects” you humoured, before you felt him nudge you with his shoulder.

Your soft laughs filled the room before you tilted your head to look at your dearest friend “Look at you now. Exiled no more. Mr. Emissary of Peace” 

Lucien smiled proudly at the title, he had come a long way. This new chapter for Phrytian was daunting, but he was grateful to have you by his side “You ready?”

With a nod you grinned wide “Let’s go peacekeep the fuck out of them Lucie!” 

Next Part >>

a/n: Eeeekkkk so here's a little intro to set the tone and roles! Just a little disclaimer, there will be a few things in this series that haven't happened in the books, but it works for the plot. Only small things, so just go with it please! Excited to share this story with you all <3 - Lottie x

[florencemtrash]

Flame, Shadow, Beast : Shadow

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Angst (specifically a very angsty Azriel)

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Azriel gripped his glass so tightly in his fist he wondered if it would shatter. 

Another year gone. Another year without you. Another year where the guilt ate at his stomach and heart so fiercely he wondered if he was hollow on the inside. 

Azriel! WAIT! No! Please, no! AZ! HELP ME!

“Azriel.” Cassian’s voice brought him back to reality, a reality where he sat at an empty booth looking murderous as he tried to drown out the past with his ninth drink of the night.

“Cass.” He said stiffly. His voice was as steady and clear as if he hadn’t drank at all. Cassian could never tell if it was because the alcohol didn’t affect him, or because he was incredible at faking sobriety - either was possible when it came to Az.

“This is the fourth night in a row.”

“You’re perceptive. You should take my job.” Azriel’s voice was so dead and emotionless it frightened him.

“Stop this and come home.” Cassian said, almost begging. 

Azriel grit his teeth and said nothing, downing the rest of his drink and silently gesturing to the bar for another one. When the drink came, Cassian snatched it up first. Maybe the drinks had affected him, because on any other day, Azriel could strike faster than lightning.

“Rhysand has a job for you.” He said, pulling on the small collection of words guaranteed to bring some life to his brother.

Azriel’s spine snapped straight and Cassian flinched at how quickly his brother - brooding and sarcastic as he may be - was replaced by The Shadowsinger. 

“What’s the job?”

Find Bryaxis. Those were the two words that had sent Azriel flying into the night sky and across all of Prythian, chasing after the demon that had eluded them since the end of the war against Hybern.

For over a decade they’d all held their breath when it came to the ancient creature. For over a decade they’d been plagued by more pressing matters than a beast who seemed content to remain hidden and out of mind. Still, Azriel hadn’t forgotten about him. No, he was like a loose thread on a piece of clothing - forever destined to tug and unravel at Azriel’s shortening patience and sanity. 

Nesta had felt something. Something she wasn’t sure of - Bryaxis looming over all of Prythian like a shadow before curling up into a sliver of smoke and disappearing for good. 

They’d written to Elain to see if she had seen anything through her Eye, but she’d also been experiencing blind spots in her vision. The future was always full of events, some malleable and some concrete, but it was more unclear than ever before - like someone had shattered a mirror and she was left to string the pieces back together.

Azriel shook his head, emptying his mind of thoughts of Elain. It would do him no good. Thoughts concerning Elain were painful enough now that she’d left the Night Court… they were made even worse because they always traced their way back to you. Like how rivers must always find their way back to the sea, Azriel found himself drawn back to memories of you, so bright and full of heat they blinded and burned him. Your smile, your laugh, the grim determination on your face as you stared him down during sparring matches. You’d been his anchor without him even knowing it. 

And now you were gone. And it was all his fault.

Stupid, stupid fool. He hissed at himself.

Threads of information concerning Bryaxis were sparse and limited, but Azriel chased after them all, finding himself deep within the gleaming workshops of Dawn, the silent and cherished libraries of Day, and the sea-whipped bellies of Summer Court ships before finally tracing Bryaxis to the Autumn Court.

This has to be handled delicately. It is imperative that no one discovers you. 

Azriel saw Rhysand’s familiar graceful penmanship, read the words, and immediately crushed the note in his hand, casting it into the dying fire. The paper folded and crumpled from the heat before turning to ash.

He huddled down in the mountains that crossed the line between Winter and Autumn, grateful to be free from the cutting winds. Beyond the frozen lake were rolling hills of bejeweled forest. He wouldn’t risk flying now. From here he’d travel through shadows and by foot, getting as close to the Forest House as he dared.

If his intuition was right (and it so often was), if Eris knew Bryaxis was within the borders of his court, he would keep him close. Close enough to monitor, close enough to kill if need be. But what The High Lord of Autumn would want with Bryaxis, Azriel had no idea.

With the issue of succession dealt with and Eris planted on the High Lord’s seat, there came less and less of a need to continue relations between Autumn and Night, at least between Autumn and the Court of Dreams. After the war and until a month ago, nearly all of Eris’s dealings had been with Keir and the Court of Nightmares. Rhysand wanted to change that, and that meant if Azriel wanted to search for Bryaxis in Autumn, he would have to do it in secret. Eris would sooner pluck out his eyes than let any member of the Inner Circle scour his lands voluntarily.

Azriel traveled from town to town, inching ever closer to the Forest House, which curled up beneath the earth like a sleeping giant. That was the issue with the Forest House - hardly anyone knew the size of it, and that meant Azriel could be walking above a watchguard stronghold and not realize until it was too late. 

Something stirred within him when he reached one of the Forest House border towns. Everywhere people seemed brighter, livelier than when Beron had been alive, but this place… this place was filled with an uncharacteristic casualness and joy. The marketplace bustled with activity even in the early morning. Plump fruits, freshly baked bread, and sticky treacle candies wrapped in wax paper were laid out with care on hand-built carts decorated with golden chrysanthemums and sunflowers. 

You would have loved this place.

No. This wasn’t what he’d come for. He’d come to distract himself with work and to find Bryaxis.

Azriel slipped up the trees and settled in between two arching branches, straining his ears to hear the talk that went on below. His shadows slithered out to gather information his senses couldn’t reach.

“Faula’s with child, can you imagine! After so-”

“Thirty?! Why, how could you charge so much! The High Lo-”

“Four dozen eggs, two pounds of flour, six slabs of butter, and-”

“Will Our Lady be coming?” 

Azriel’s ears pricked up, blocking out the hushed conversation that went on around the pair of females who sat on milk crates and peeled apples under the cover of a thatched roof. The crisp sound of a knife sliding between fruit and peel followed by the thunk of a cored apple dropping into a barrel was a soft rhythm to Azriel’s ears.

“To ours?! Good gods, Rebessa, to think that she’d spend the harvest here.”

“She lives close by. It’s not as though we’re strangers to her and she’s wonderfully kind!”

“I hear she’s been invited elsewhere.”

The female gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth. “Elsewhere?”

“Elsewhere.” 

“Do you think he’ll-”

“Shhhhh. You mustn’t say anything. I’m not even supposed to know.” 

“Well how’d you find out?”

“Syndra says he’s been visiting jewelers and carpenters every week. He could be preparing a new room… or a bridal chest.”

“About time! And will he be going with her?”

“He follows wherever Our Lady goes.”

“Shame. He was unnerving, but welcome. Haven’t lost a sheep or hen in ages.” 

They continued on, whispering between their bowed heads of matching ruby-colored hair. Autumn Court members were crafty and secretive by nature, an unfortunate byproduct of existing beneath the thumbs of one brutal and cunning High Lord after another. But it would seem their tongues had loosened in the years since Eris had come into his power.

Our Lady. 

Elsewhere. 

He.

Azriel rolled the words around in his mind like a rough-cut stone in a tumbler, then set off to find the “he” who followed this Lady wherever she went.

As he slipped through the village, searching for a home that would be fit enough for a Lady of Autumn, there were two things he noticed. First, the stirring in his chest had grown stronger, like the pulling of the sea as it went out with the tide or the beating of a firefly’s wings against glass. Second, for a town of this size, even one that lay so close to the Forest House, there were only a handful of guards left to trot around atop their horses and an additional handful that patrolled the paths to the fields on foot. Whoever this Lady was, she offered them enough protection and power that Eris would willingly leave it vulnerable - at least in appearance.

Azriel’s nerves sparked with interest, his heart thrumming with the adrenaline that came with staying hidden. It was like a game of sorts. A game of how far he could go, how deep into a court could he burrow, how many secrets he could steal from tight lips without getting caught. 

When he came across the cottage beyond the borders of town, nothing but the faint trail made by footsteps and horse hooves hinting at its existence through the break in the treeline, he was unimpressed. No wave of power rushed over him. No hunting dogs or other monsters were posted at the door. The only thing that strengthened, and had continued to strengthen as he neared this place, was that fluttering tightness in his chest. 

He couldn’t tell if it was his instincts on edge or a bad omen of what was to come. 

There was a flat, empty stretch of land from the treeline to the front door. He called upon his shadows, drawing his power over himself to hide as he slinked across the grass soundlessly. His feet knew where to step, his lungs knew when to take breath, until suddenly he was at the side door. A peek in through the window confirmed his suspicions. 

There was no one here. 

He pressed his fingertips to the walls of the house, feeling the magic splinter outward like a ripple on a still lake. It was an unassuming, but powerful spell that wrapped around the house like a second skin. But Azriel was craftier than that, poking for weak spots in the magic and finding an opening in the chimney. 

He broke through the veil of magic, slipped into the darkness, and emerged on the other side inside the house. 

It was the smell that dropped him to his knees, the scent of witch hazel, rosemary oil, and oranges, clean and bright and warm all at the same time. 

It smelled like you. 

All thoughts of his mission and staying hidden at all costs were wiped from his mind. Now he searched for you.

He walked as if in a trance, finding pieces of you everywhere. He found you in the half-drunken mug of tea sweetened with honey and lavender syrup on the kitchen counter. He found you in the embroidery on the curtains - dainty flowers and vines used to patch up the holes and scratches with a personal touch. He found you in the fingerprints that stained the outer leaves of the books on the table. 

All these small things spoke a truth he hadn’t dared hope for in over a decade.

You were still alive.

He whirled around, searching the space with desperation for any further signs of you. But the house was empty and still, pieces of furniture missing like you’d been preparing to leave.

You slipped into your house, pressing a finger against your lips in warning to Bryaxis.

Stay silent. 

The monster obeyed, his neck twisting to the side at an unnatural angle as his body grew in size, shadowy flesh warping and stretching until he’d taken the form of a bear. 

Your eyes turned black. Power whispering at the edges of your mind just waiting to be called upon. You flexed your hands, calling your sword from the ether and feeling its familiar weight drop into your palm. 

There was a stranger in your home. A male from the looks of his build and height. He rummaged through the drawers by the door, deft fingers pulling out letters and keys while his other hand gripped his weapon.

You aimed the sword in the center of their back, tracing their spine with your eyes and pressing it against the space between two vertebrae, right at the root of their lungs.

“Drop the sword.” You commanded, pressing harder. The blade sliced through the layers of leather armor with ease. A wrong move, too deep a breath, and you’d slice through their spinal cord and leave them paralyzed on the floor.

Azriel’s heart hammered away in his chest and the feeling there twisted and ate away at him. Turn around. The voice commanded. Look at her.

His hold on his sword went slack, the metal singing before it clattered onto the floor. Without being asked, he unsheathed Truth-Teller, dropped it to the floor and slid the weapon back towards you, holding his breath as your boot stopped the ancient blade in its tracks with a solid thump.

You hadn’t recognized him. How could you? It was unnatural to see him in undyed leather armor and his raven black hair was tucked beneath a matching hood. The rich browns of the amour whispered of Autumn. He must have stolen it shortly after crossing the border into your court. But Truth-Teller? There was no mistaking it.

You grabbed him by the back of his jacket, spun him around, and slammed him against the wall before ripping off the hood with a snarl. The cool touch of your blade against his throat and between the slats of his ribs couldn’t stop what he knew was coming. 

The bond burst to life and burned within his chest, swooping and singing like a bird off a cliffside. It was a breath of fresh air. An answer to all his maddening questions.

“Hello Y/n.” His voice rang out in the house, deep and dark and all too familiar. 

You froze, eyes blowing wide open as you tightened your hold on the knife and sword until your knuckles turned white. 

Aside from the clothes he didn’t look any different from the last time you’d seen him. Same black hair, same hazel eyes that shone a million different colors, same beautiful, sculpted face spoiled by an uncharacteristic look of shock and awe. 

He looked the same as he did on the day he handed you over to Beron. 

You for Elain. 

You in exchange for the female he loved.

The betrayal still stung like salt rubbed into a fresh wound. 

Fury set your blood boiling and you answered its call, drawing back and slamming your fist into the side of his jaw so hard you felt something crack and split.

Azriel fell to the ground, catching himself on one hand as the other flew up to his jaw. 

Dislocated. 

He popped it back into place, wiping his mouth and seeing his hand come away red with blood. 

Azriel’s heart threatened to stop in his chest. His eyes crawled over the sight of you, hungry and desperate for every inch of proof that you stood before him. Your eyes were alight, brighter than any fire the world could set ablaze. Everything about you was wide and full of feeling as you stood above him, 

Inside his chest, the mate bond continued to purr happily, refusing to be silenced.

“Y/n.” He said again. The words fell like a prayer from his lips. “You’re alive.” 

“No thanks to you.” 

Bryaxis growled in agreement from your side, lips pulling back to expose teeth stronger than metal and smooth as porcelain. Azriel’s eyes flickered down to him in surprise before going back to you. 

“Bryaxis. You’re his master now.” A flash of pride warmed his chest. Leave it to you to take control of one of the most dangerous monsters in existence. Cassian would lose his mind when he found out.

Again, the creature growled, this time in disgust.

At the mention of the creature you’d come to consider a worthy friend you snapped out of your stupor and pointed the sword at his chest, just beneath his sternum, pressing down. Any more force and you’d break skin. Angle it upwards and push and you’d reach his heart.

“Y/n, please.” He begged. It was another shock to your system. You’d never heard him beg for anything. 

“What do you want?” The words came out hard and trembling.

“I came to find Bryaxis and bring him back to the Night Court. I… I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

“Obviously. And yet you’re in my house. Uninvited, might I add.” There was an edge to your voice that hadn’t been there before, a harder gleam to your eyes despite everything else remaining the same. There were some scars that did not write themselves onto skin.

“I… How did you survive?” 

Your lips tightened and turned pale, “Are you shocked? Disappointed?”

Azriel flinched. Your words may as well have been another blow to his face. The flesh around his jaw was beginning to bruise, shifting from an inflamed red to a mottled purple. 

“No!” Azriel lifted his hands up in surrender. “We searched for you. We searched for you for weeks… You have to believe me.” You searched his eyes for an answer, expecting to be met with his usual unreadable expression. But you found the exact opposite. He seemed… lost. Like he didn’t know what to do with himself. If you didn’t know better you would say the Shadowsinger looked frightened.

“I’m sorry.” he gasped, “For everything.” 

It was too late for apologies. Far too late. You told him as much.

“I know,” Azriel swallowed thickly, “I know.” He said again, quieter this time. Something within him dimmed.

“Bryaxis isn’t coming with you.” You said, breaking the silence and finally taking the pressure of your sword off his chest. Azriel moved back onto his feet as swift and strong as a river. “Now get out.” 

You turned your back to him, shrugging off the uncomfortable feelings that weighed on your shoulders. You’d be happier when he was long gone.

“You can run back to Rhys and tell him you failed.”

“Y/n-” His hand brushed against your arm, willing you to look at him again. And you did. You whirled on him in an instant, shoving him back with the hilt of your sword.

“Don’t touch me.” You growled. He flinched again like he’d been burned. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I-” He scrambled for words that wouldn’t come. Anything to hold on to you for a little while longer, “Why didn’t you come back to the Night Court? Why didn’t you come home?”

A stupid question to which he already knew the answer.

“That was never my home and there’s nothing left for me there.”

Azriel shook his head, hair shining like a raven’s wing in flight, “That’s not true.” 

I’m there. He sent his pleas through the bond. I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been waiting for you for years… for my whole life. 

“It is true.”

“And there’s more for you here?” Azriel asked quietly. “You live here on your own, no friends, no family.” 

“I didn’t have friends or family in the Night Court either.” You weren’t going to tell him about Eris or Halvor or the others. He didn’t have any right to that knowledge, “You proved that when you traded me away to Beron.” 

Azriel tipped his head forward, closing his eyes to the feeling of shame that weighed him down.

Azriel! WAIT! No! Please, no! AZ! HELP ME! 

“It was Rhys and I who made the decision. The others didn’t know. Don’t hate them for what we did.” 

Your laugh came out like a sharp bark, “I have a hard time believing that.” 

If the circumstances were different, he might have pulled down the neck of his shirt and shown you the thin scar on his shoulder, courtesy of Nesta stabbing him with a kitchen knife after she’d learned what he’d done. She would have gone for a second attempt if it hadn’t been for Cassian. He’d dragged her away screaming and crying. 

“It’s true. I swear it.” Azriel whispered.

You didn’t say more, didn’t give him the satisfaction of continuing the conversation. His eyes burned into you, moving across your body with a lover’s touch like you were a well and he was looking to drown.

Before you would have melted under his gaze. Before you’d wanted nothing more than to see him look at you this intently. Things had changed.

“I’ll give you an hour to leave these lands. If you’re not long gone by then, I’ll send Bryaxis after you.” 

The creature bristled with excitement, teeth bared in a terrifying smile.

“Y/n-” Azriel begged. “Please. The others-”

“I don’t care about the others.” Your voice cracked and you hated yourself for it. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“I don’t care what you believe or don’t believe.”

“Y/n…” He knew you were serious about your threat and that time was ticking, but he needed to see you again. He needed it like flame needs oxygen. “The others didn’t know…” 

To your surprise he dropped down to one knee in front of you, eyes tilted towards the ground.

“I hate what I did to you. I hate that I hurt you and.. And I know…” He swallowed thickly, “I know I don’t deserve any kindness or forgiveness, but at least let the others see you… Let them visit,” He added after a short pause, “In Autumn, if that’s what you want.”

“Get out, Azriel.” 

To hear you say his name broke the dam on old memories, painful and numerous. Memories of you screaming out for him to help you when Beron’s men strapped the ashwood chains around your wrists and ankles. Screams begging him to take you home. Anywhere other than Autumn. Anywhere other than under Beron’s thumb.

Azriel! WAIT! No! No, no, no, no, no. Please, no! AZ! HELP ME! 

“Please. Consider it.” Azriel murmured. You turned away from him, looking at the engraved clock on the wall. Every tick tock of its hands felt like a death knell. 

“They’ll be glad to know you’re alive and safe… more than you know.” 

You said nothing, heard nothing as he took his things and slipped out of your house. But you felt his absence like a stone in your stomach. It wasn’t until Bryaxis nudged your waist that all the anger, sadness, and longing crashed in around you. You broke down on the floor, and began to sob into Bryaxis’s side.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______

Author's note:

Yeahhhhhh, Azriel fucked up. But I feel like this would be in character for him? He gets fixated on the people in his life that he's able to 'save' (i.e., Mor and Elain) and especially because of the whole '3 sisters for 3 brothers' thing, I think he would be willing to make big sacrifices to save Elain if it came down to it... but perhaps I'm wrong. I would be curious to hear other people's opinions on it.

Anyhow, sorry for the sad and angsty chapter.

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @logankemaek @the-sweet-psycho @a-frog-with-a-laptop @flameandshadowx @applerubyy @esposadomd @imma-too-many-fandoms @bubybubsters

[clunaes]

my taste in fictional men is so different from real life men fictional men can get away with murder while real life men can't even get away with breathing

[velarisdusk]

Slip into something daring and explore the courts this October. Don't be shy—knock on the doors of your favorite characters. Will you uncover a dark, twisted secret, or indulge in a sinful treat?

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author's note: this is my first ever kinktober!!! ideally, i'll be posting every day from october 1st through 31st, but i'm in school full-time so we'll see lol. these will vary in length, but will all be relatively short this is all 18+ (duh) so please mdni! enjoy! AO3 Link for Kinktober 2024

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

solo days (not reader insert; only 2 lol) will be denoted with a ☾

01 Praise

Sweet Surrender | Cassian x Reader | 732 words read here or on AO3

02 Caught Masturbating

In the Wake of Absence | Lucien x Reader | 2,892 words read here or on AO3 tags: friends to lovers (kinda? insinuated at least)

03 Edging

Before the Dawn | Tamlin x Reader | 1,232 words read here or on AO3 tags: established relationship

04 Virginity

Unveiled Pleasures | Rhysand x Reader | 4,272 words read here or on AO3 tags: personal favorite, friends to lovers, corruption

05 Begging

Whispered Echoes | Nesta x Reader | 1,064 words read here or on AO3

06 Mommy Kink

Shadows of Need | Azriel x Reader | 1,004 words read here or on AO3

07 Wet Dream ☾

Dreams of You | Cassian | 483 words read here or on AO3 tags: solo (not reader-insert)

08 Thigh Riding

Floral Reverie | Tamlin x Reader | 1,633 words read here or on AO3 tags: outdoors

09 Dacryphilia

Night's Cold Embrace | Rhysand x Reader | 2,032 words read here or on AO3 tags: dark!rhys, he's out here licking tears again guys someone get him

10 Bondage

Twisted Silk | Azriel x Reader | 1,242 words read here or on AO3

11 Degradation

Fallen Grace | Eris x Reader | 1,525 words read here or on AO3

12 Size Difference

In the Firelight | Cassian x Reader | 593 words read here or on AO3

13 Medical Play

Gentle Remedies | Elain x Reader | 1,065 words read here or on AO3

14 Boot Worship

The Crown's Command | Eris x Reader | 1,572 words read here or on AO3 tags: high lord!eris, dark!eris (cruel? dark? both? idrk)

15 Distracted Sex

Indelicate Distraction | Azriel x Reader | 2,232 words read here or on AO3 tags: this one's hot just trust, az is doing paperwork... uh huh

16 Impact Play

Searing Retribution | Cassian x Reader | 976 words read here or on AO3

17 Cum Plug

Bound by Flame | Eris x Reader | 1,009 words read here or on AO3 tags: undertones of a breeding kink, y/n's gotta make an heir

18 Orgasm Control

In the Stillness of Want | Rhysand x Reader | 1,302 words read here or on AO3 tags: consensual use of daemati

19 Cockwarming

Held in Silence | Cassian x Reader | 840 words read here or on AO3

20 Dollification

Made for Him | Azriel x Reader | 1,193 words read here or on AO3

21 Pet Play

Strings of Devotion | Eris x Reader | 1,308 words read here or on AO3 tags: there is use of a dog crate briefly so beware, im planning on a part 2 to this

22 Cuckolding

When the Stars Bear Witness | Cassian x Reader x Azriel, Rhysand | 2,032 words read here or on AO3 tags: established relationship (with rhysand)

23 24/7 Scene

The Weight of Expectation | Cassian x Reader | 1,398 words read here or on AO3

24 Predator / Prey

Breathe in the Quiet | Azriel x Reader | 2,214 words read here or on AO3 tags: stalker!azriel, dark!azriel, part 1 to Day 28: Captivity

25 Somnophilia

In the Glow of Serenity | Lucien x Reader | 2,399 words read here or on AO3 tags: y/n is drugged (for medical reasons), established relationship

26 Mind Control

Murmurs of the Abyss | Rhysand x Reader | 802 words read here or on AO3 tags: consensual use of daemati

27 Tentacles ☾

Garden of Eden | Tamlin | 2,007 words read here or on AO3 tags: solo (not reader insert)

28 Captivity

Breathe Out Your Sorrows | Azriel x Reader | 9,945 words read here or on AO3 tags: personal favorite, dark! az, dub-con, part 2 to Day 24: Predator / Prey)

29 Monsterfucking

Echoes of the Unruly | Tamlin x Reader | 3,119 words read here or on AO3 tags: beast!Tamlin

30 Dehumanization

Lament of Control | Rhysand x Reader | 1,027 words read here or on AO3 tags: dark!rhysand, CoN!rhysand

31 Fuck or Die

Subjugation | Lucien x Reader, Rhysand | 6,452 words read here or on AO3 tags: personal favorite, dub-con + non-con (it is both i swear), dark!rhysand, rhysand takes you and lucien hostage, kinda also rhysand x reader?, UtM, nonconsensual use of daemati

[thestarlightexpress]

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

a/n: I am FINALLY ready to start writing again (thank you law school apps for getting me back in the habit), I am super pumped to finally participate in kinktober this year! I'm going to keep this masterlist updated throughout the month. lmk if anyone wants to be added to the taglist!

Day 1: Pussy Slapping - Rhys x Reader

Day 2: Somnophilia - Azriel x Reader

Day 3: Foursome - Bat Boys x Reader

Day 4: Hatefucking (feat. Bruises/Bites) - Eris x Reader

Day 5: Monsterfucking - Tarquin x Reader

Day 6: Pet Play - Nesta x Reader x Eris

Day 7: Squirting - Nesta x Reader x Cassian

Day 8: Handjob (feat. Titty Fucking) - Cassian x Reader

Day 9: Threesome - Elain x Reader x Lucien

Day 10: Impact Play - Azriel x Reader

Day 11: Hair Pulling (feat. Deepthroating) - Eris x Reader

Day 12: Thigh Riding - Tarquin x Reader

Day 13: Overstimulation (feat. Temp Play) - Lucien x Reader

Day 14: Rough Sex - Azriel x Reader

Day 15: Praise - Elain x Reader

Day 16: Exhibitionism - Helion x Reader

Day 17: Aftercare (feat. Wing Play) - Azriel x Reader x Eris

Day 18: Double Penetration - Azriel x Reader x Rhys

Day 19: Dacryphilia (feat. Bondage) - Dark!Azriel x Reader

Day 20: Public Sex - Rhys x Reader

Day 21: Omegaverse - Alpha!Cassian x Omega!Reader

Day 22: Dirty Talk: Lucien x Reader

Day 23: Masturbation - Helion x Reader

Day 24: Edgeplay - Rhys x Reader

Day 25: Breeding - Eris x Reader

Day 26: Breath Play - Azriel x Reader

Day 27: Wax Play - Lucien x Reader

Day 28: Mirror Sex (feat. Cockwarming) - Rhys x Reader x Feyre

Day 29: Bath Sex - Eris x Reader

Day 30: Massaging - Cassian x Reader

Day 31: Face Sitting - Nesta x Reader x Cassian