#eris and mor

[divinemare]

we all agree that there’s going to be a rejected mate bond in acotar right? right

well lemme tell yah, it’s not going to be elain and lucien.

IT WILL BE ERIS AND MOR.

[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

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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.

[writingforrhys]

i can see you

eris vanserra x reader contents: listened to speak now TV (its been 2 years since i started this someone arrest me) and had this fic appear in my head like a fuckin vision. pls pls PLS if you ever do anything i say, make sure it's listening to "i can see you" by taylor swift on repeat while you read this. forbidden love ;) ...or just a really forbidden hook up. also slight unrequited az x reader? i literally didn't intend for that to happen

p.s i think this is a bit of an au? this is before utm and eris defo did not have this kind of relationship with the inner circle yet and velaris was a secret 💀 so just take it with a pinch of salt LMAO

word count: 5.9k warnings: pure smut my friends ;) this is also my first time writing for eris so please be kind 😣

masterlist

You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I can see you, do you?

If there was anywhere in the world you didn't want to be right now, it was certainly this meeting between the High Lords of Prythian. Your feet ached and your eyes drooped standing behind Rhysand's chair alongside Azriel.

You typically enjoyed your trips to the Day Court. Helion was someone you considered a close friend and you always found your way to his extensive libraries when you visited, holing yourself up and breathing in knowledge until your eyes became red.

But right now, even as the light streamed in through the chiffon curtains hanging over the tall windows and the cool breeze kissed upon your neck, you just wanted to go home. It was Rhys you cursed, recalling his insistence on your presence at the meeting.

"I need Az to keep people in check and you to keep me sane", you remembered he'd said. You'd only rolled your eyes.

They'd been fighting for hours now. Just as six began to agree upon a solution, one would have an issue. Hours upon hours of snide remarks and magic thrown and egos bruised left you fatigued and downright moody.

A scarred hand falling upon your shoulder tugged you out of your stupor and you looked up to find Azriel with a gentle smile on his face.

"Time to go, love."

A beam lit up your face, and a relieved breath left your lips, "It's over?"

"It's over," Azriel chuckled, "Helion thought we should probably call it while they're all still alive."

"Oh, thank the Gods," You began to lead Azriel to where you could see Rhys now talking with Kallias and Viviane, "Not because I care a great deal about their mortality - I just, I really need a bed."

He chuckled again.

You bid Kallias and Viviane a quick hello and a goodbye rolled into one before turning to Rhys for permission to excuse yourself. He gave you a small smile and a touch to your shoulder; a promise that he'd be by later to check on you. Where your Rhys would usually part with a kiss to your head and a hug goodnight, he had been replaced with the High Lord of the Night Court instead. You didn't mind too much, especially not with the way every muscle in your body was screaming at you for a hot bath and a rest.

You could've skipped through the winding hallway, body thrumming with excitement at the idea of finally getting off of your feet. Your euphoria appeared troublesome soon enough, as your quick paces almost sent you hurtling into a flash of reds and browns.

You manoeuvred your body quick enough to avoid any disastrous collisions, yet your efforts were in vain as the front of your torso brushed completely upon another's.

You turned around, prepared to send an apology through the hall, but only found yourself startled as Eris Vanserra stood before you. Well, he didn't really stand. Actually, he didn't even bother to halt his movements at all. The male simply threw his head over his shoulder, gave you one long look straight from your head to your feet, and then up again, and set off with a smirk cast your way.

You prayed that your bath would wash away the lick of fire that spread through you.

I've been watching you for ages and I spend my time trying not to feel it But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

"Vanserra."

He smirked, "L/N."

"You know, I'm surprised you agreed to this at all - and I'm even more surprised that Mor hasn't torn your head from your body yet."

Rhys had pulled you into his office a week prior, warning you of his intention to invite Eris to your family dinner. Considering you were his advisor, he really should've been asking you, but he had made his mind up about appearances and alliances and it had made it very difficult to disagree with him.

You wanted to disagree with him, truly. Yet, that little part of you - that flame - became so hard to ignore when Rhysand had said the Autumn Lord's name. Perhaps it was uncouth of you to pretend to begrudgingly agree to his proposal, when you'd later returned to your bedchambers and snuck a hand between your legs at the thought of seeing Eris again.

You stood in the dining room with him now, watching intently as his lips turned up with the exhale he let out at your comment.

"How could I turn down such a thrilling invitation?"

You busied yourself with pouring yourself another drink to distract from the laugh that wanted to make its way out of your body. The heat that flooded your cheeks at his crooning tone.

"You owe me an apology, by the way."

"Oh?"

You turned your body to face his again, "In the hallway at Day, fireling."

Save for the small, upturned quirk of his lips, nothing about Eris' body language denoted pleasure in conversing with you. You'd noticed that about him - his surefire ability to never reveal his hand. You'd noticed the air of arrogance he carried with him and how it perfectly covered any tells you had been trying to find about the male for months.

"And what, exactly, am I apologising for?" He said.

"You didn't stop yourself after you bludgeoned into me, so I'm sure now is a more appropriate time for you."

Hands in his pockets, Eris let out an amused huff and leant against the dining table, "It is with my sincerest regrets that I apologise for walking through the same hall as you."

"Very quick witted, Vanserra. Do you treat every female this way?"

"Only the special ones."

It was shameful how quickly your cheeks burned. He was teasing, he wasn't serious. He was flirting with you to gain the upper hand on your court and here you were, blushing like a schoolgirl.

You recovered as quickly as you could. You tried to be subtle about the clearing of your throat and the cool hand you laid upon your face, however, it was most likely in vain. Eris could be very perceptive.

"I daren't think about how you treat the rest of them." You tried to be brave now and look at him - you quickly regretted it. You'd forgotten how handsome he was.

"Certainly not as well as I'd treat you."

Your mouth bobbed open for some reply, you weren't sure what it was going to be, and then a glass rang out somewhere in the hall. You turned to find your family all starting to gather at the table, slight grimaces and glares being sent toward your conversing with Eris.

You'd been saved this time, thank the Mother, but your luck was sure to run out soon.

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall for me And I can see you up against the wall with me What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I could see you

Dinner was tense.

The Vanserra male was incredible at antagonising your family. To your luck, he'd been sat opposite you at the dining table. To your chagrin, Cassian and Azriel had both chosen to flank you at the table. Not a coincidence, you were sure.

You knew that Eris had made some comment, you weren't sure what, (you were much more entertained with admiring the way his throat bobbed every time he took a sip of his wine), but it had made Mor storm out of the room.

You really, really wanted to care. You knew that this was wrong. To not give even one flying fuck about your lifelong friend's emotional turmoil at the hands of this male. But you couldn't breathe.

Not with the way he was now grinning down at his own plate, fire glinting in his eyes, cutting up his piece of steak as if oblivious to everyone's wrathful stares. With the way he leaned back in his chair, wiped his mouth with the cloth, and made unwavering eye contact with Rhysand as his foot touched yours underneath the table.

Your breath was stuck in your throat, your face warming and your hands trembling.

"If you'll excuse me." You mumbled, standing from your chair.

Your family watched you rise, and three pitying glances were sent your way. They assumed that Eris' presence was grating upon you - that Mor's upset was making you upset. They assumed that you were going to check on her; their dearest, kind-hearted Y/N.

But Eris watched.

He watched as you fled the room, smoothing your skirt and clearing your throat, and then watched you walking left down the hallway.

...He had just seen Mor turn right.

Eris kept eating. He tried not to think about your absence, but how could he ignore it? The Illyrian brutes certainly weren't as enticing and the thought of seeing either of them in a state of undress made him want to bring his dinner back up.

The male stared at the dining chair in front of him and couldn't help but let his thoughts wander. He let himself grow hotter at the memory of the dress you were wearing - the way your breasts were so perfectly exposed atop the bodice. He recalled how delicately your hair cascaded down your back, tucked behind pointed ears, and how he so desperately ached to nose at your neck and inhale your scent.

It was the image of your pretty hands wrapping around his cock, instead of your wine glass, that had Eris rising from his seat a mere five minutes later, and excusing himself to the bathroom.

You washed your hands in the sink, took care to splash some on your cheeks, and gathered the courage to enter the dining room again. You hadn't a clue why it was Eris Vanserra of all people making you feel like a young girl with a crush again.

One thing you knew for certain was that you needed to find out what was hidden under that attitude of his.

Pulling open the door, you exhaled heavily, and then immediately stopped in your tracks at the sight before you. Here was Autumn's heir apparent, leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom with complete ease.

"We have to stop meeting like this, Vanserra."

Eris didn't do anything but hum at your comment, tilting his head and running that stupid, annoying look down your body.

"Everything alright?" You asked, fingertips clenching onto the doorframe.

He pushed off from the wall now and only two gentle footsteps had him towering over you.

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine. Are you alright, L/N?" He purred at you, eyes flitting over the expanse of your face.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You tried to keep your face as stoic as possible, eyebrow's taut in a faux scowl.

Eris reached a warm hand to your hair, fingertips dancing gently around a strand. He leaned forward, and you could feel breath mingling, as he whispered just before your ear.

"Because you can't stop staring," Your breath quickened at his tone, "And it would take an imbecile to not notice the scent of your arousal, Y/N."

"Nobody else seems to have noticed." This charade of nonchalance was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up. Your vision fogged with the overstimulation of Eris filling your senses.

He simply smirked, "I don't think that counters what I said."

"You're abhorrent."

"Perhaps so," Eris hummed, "But you like it."

As you gazed into the male's amber eyes, you knew there was no coming back from this. Not from what you were about to do. You could call it now; shove him out of your way, run back to the safety of your family, and tattle on him. That would certainly go over much better than if they found out about this.

If they found out about how you lost all resolve and threw yourself on Eris Vanserra.

Lips collided and bodies brushed as you reached for him, and the ache seemed to disappear instantly. It felt right, the way you slotted together, even though it was so, so wrong. His hands came to rest on the small of your back, pulling you flush to his body, and you felt how his fingertips dug into you every time you tugged on his auburn hair.

His warm hands caressed you as you attempted to get impossibly closer to the male, teeth clashing and hands shaking. As Eris tugged you closer, you could feel the hardening of his length brushing upon your body - the wetness already forming in your underwear was now soaking the garments completely.

Eris' lips found purchase on your neck, nibbling and sucking the point just below your ear that had you mewling into his shoulder. One of his hands was quick to clasp over your mouth.

"Must be quiet, Y/N," He tutted, "Can't let your brood of barbarians know that their perfect girl is getting defiled by a Vanserra, can we?"

"D-Don't," You sighed as his hands reached under your skirts, "Don't call them that."

Eris' lips hovered over yours. The teasing touch was accompanied by his fingertips grazing your inner thigh, stroking the lining of your underwear.

"Oh, I think I can do whatever I want," He smirked, "Isn't that right? Hm?"

You simply stared at him with quick breaths and a racing heart.

"I could do whatever I like to you - and you'd take it. Better yet, I'd have you begging for it," He murmured onto your mouth, "Jump."

Your legs were quick to wrap around the Autumn Lord's waist. You were only slightly ashamed of how good it felt when your body harshly met the wall.

Eris' fingers finally breached your underwear and a whimper left your lips as his thumb stroked through your folds. He quickly pressed upon your clit, small circles with just enough pressure to have you tensing.

He was back to kissing your neck now and you knew that you were fucked - that you'd never get past this. You'd never forget the way his hot tongue felt on your chest and the way his other hand palmed at your breast, readying to remove your garments completely so he could place that skilful mouth onto your nipple.

And you'd never forget how the sweat dripped down your back as Eris' fingers had you climbing and climbing and-

Are you okay, darling?

Rhys' voice in your head sobered up any climax you were close to. Your eyes grew wide and your heart dropped as you pushed Eris so hard off of you that you practically fell to the ground.

"What?" He panted where he stood, hair and clothes disheveled.

"Rhys," You swallowed, "He- He was in my head. Asked if I was okay."

"Well, I certainly don't need another male on your mind while my fingers are inside of you." Eris mocked a frown.

Gods, you forgot what a prick this male could be. Your expression soon turned sour - only a scowl sent Eris' way as you fixed your dress.

"I'll tell him I'm retiring for the night. They'll smell you all over me."

Eris made a noncommittal sound as he reached to stroke your jaw, "And wouldn't that be an awful thing."

"Let's just say I'd rather take my chance in the Mortal Lands than admit to what happened here. Then again, that's probably where I'd be headed if they ever found out." You chuckled slightly, reaching a hand to Eris' chest to softly shove him away.

Before you could make your exit out of the hall, Eris' fingers wrapped around your own and held your hand to his chest. He had pulled you just enough so that your body almost tumbled into him.

A lupine smirk grazed his features.

"Well, I guess this will have to be our little secret. Won't it, starshine?"

Then we kept everything professional, 'cause Something's changed, it’s something I like They keep watchful eyes on us so It's best that we move fast and keep quiet

Three heads turned as the mahogany door creaked open.

The room was dimly lit; only two faelights illuminated the spacious, yet cozy, office. A chair had been saved for you, your favourite one, plush with a deep green material and even darker fluffy cushions. The shadows at your feet tugged you incessantly to the welcoming expanse of the room.

"You wanted to see me?"

Violet eyes flickered with delight at your disheveled appearance. It wasn't your fault you'd already been tucked up into bed when the High Lord's talons had tapped and scraped delicately at your mind.

"Did we wake you, petal?" A teasing grin tugged at Cassian's mouth.

"Bite me, General."

Cassian was already eager to reply with whatever filth his brain had conjured, eyes full of mirth and lips parting quickly to release his retort, when Rhys was already interrupting him.

"We have a dilemma, darling," He picked at an invisible piece of lint on his suit, "We have reason to believe Beron is up to something. He's been sending spies from Autumn to our border."

"They didn't get very far." Azriel spoke up, a smirk dancing on his face.

"I don't get it," You frowned, "What do you need me for?"

Rhys' forlorn gaze drifted to the Shadowsinger and returned to you quickly, worry dancing in his eyes. Your face fell as you sighed a breath, closing your eyes at the memory forming.

You remembered it well - so well that it had been keeping you awake the past month. It was meant to be a simple recon mission. Get in, get your information, and get the fuck out.

It had only been yourself and Azriel snooping that day. Rhysand had entrusted the both of you with the task, one he knew you could fulfil. The two of you had done it a million times over and it had practically become second nature.

Yet, one moment you remembered heading back to your checkpoint to meet with Azriel, and the next you were waking in a pool of blood, freezing half to death in the snow. You had taken days to recover, but he had taken weeks.

You recalled crawling to him, holding onto your own deep, internal wounds, trying anything to get him to wake. You could make out his torn leg through your hazy vision, but it was the sight of his slashed wings that had made you panic.

You still didn't know how they had gotten the drop on you so quickly, and the more you thought on it, the more you really didn't want to know.

"I'm sorry, Az, I didn't even think." You dipped your head.

He simply sent you a soft smile. You didn't fail to notice the shadow curling around your ear.

"Don't worry, I can do it," You sent a teasing smile to Rhys, "Mother knows you can't send that oaf. Beron would find him elbow deep in the pumpkin pies before he'd even gathered any information."

"Hey!" Cassian whined as the room erupted in laughter.

You tucked your knees under your chin, curled in the chair, "When do I head off?"

"When can you be ready?"

Your head snapped to your High Lord.

"Eris is on his way to collect you."

You swallowed harshly. Your throat instantly dried, and it felt as if needles had covered all the way down to your lungs. Sweat began to form on both palms as you rubbed them on the arms of your chair.

"Eris?" You practically squeaked.

Rhys frowned, "Is that okay? I'll have him turn around the second you say the word."

"No!"

Every pair of eyes in the room were on you immediately. A deep set glower rested on Azriel's face, lifted eyebrows and open lips from Cassian. Rhys simply squinted.

"I mean," You stuttered, "If I'm gonna do this, I'll do it right. He'll be a pain in my ass, but... he'll be helpful."

"That's what I'm hoping," Rhys muttered, "Just try not to let him get to you."

Get to you. Gods, it was an effort to not laugh out loud. You hadn't seen Eris since that day in the hallway; the very thought of seeing his face again made the hairs on your body stand upright. You didn't know where this left you - you wondered if he'd pretend it never happened.

He'd made no motion to contact you, then again you highly doubted he was the type to woo a casual lover. If that's even what you were to each other.

Trepidation flooded your body. Would he say something? Make a teasing comment and expose your transgressions to your family? You internally cursed at the belief you truly had in the Autumn male, that little voice that told you he wouldn't.

You rose from your chair, feigning annoyance, "Give me twenty minutes."

"Don't try to escape." Cassian smirked again.

Rhys and Azriel snickered before the former sent a nod of his head your way.

"We'll be downstairs."

The next twenty minutes of your life consisted of pacing through you room, haphazardly throwing items of clothing into your bag as you swore under your breath. You felt like a ticking time bomb - like you could feel Eris getting closer to the estate.

The time passed too quickly for your liking, and before you knew it, you were in your leathers and heading down to your doom.

He was already here. He stood casually at the door, a hand fixing one of the cuffs of his sleeves as he pointedly ignored the looks from the other males in the hall. He looked divine.

You allowed yourself a few seconds to covertly examine his figure. He was sporting a tailored, deep maroon tunic that fell over the chestnut trousers adorning his hips. A pair of heavy, black boots were buckled on his feet. The coat was purely sinful. The material fell to his knees and fit his wide shoulders gloriously, only to tuck in at the waist, taunting you with his physique.

You wanted to rip it all off of him.

His amber eyes settled upon yours as you descended, and they glinted with something you couldn't place. He released a breath of amusement.

"Well, you look ready for war."

Before you could snark a response, growls were already pulling out of Az's and Cassian's lips. The Autumn Lord held his hands up in mock surrender as you rolled your eyes.

"I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone." You said gently.

"Doubtful." You barely heard Azriel mutter under his breath.

You said your goodbyes to the trio, hugging them each, before you turned to Eris and placed your bag in his hand.

"Come on then, Lordling. We have work to do."

You walked out before him - if you had turned, you would've noticed as he scanned your frame. You would've noticed the hunger in his expression.

When the door was closed firmly behind you, only then did you turn towards Eris. You simply looked at one another for a second, taking in all you had missed over the last month. You wondered if he missed this view just as much as you secretly did.

Eris took your chin in between his pointer and his thumb and you tried not to quake as you recalled the position you'd been in when he last did this.

"Did you get all dressed up for me?" He smirked, "I must say, you are a vision."

You clenched your jaw in annoyance, putting a hand over his wrist and tugging it off of your face.

"Can we get on with this? I can't say that you're particularly tantalising company."

The look on his face told you he knew you were lying. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. Nonetheless, he simply crooked an elbow toward you, and the world disappeared as the two of you winnowed to the Autumn Court.

You won't believe half the things I see inside my head Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet

It was a brisk day in Autumn that you'd arrived in. Eris had winnowed you both to the forest and the chill winds had hit you immediately. You noticed he was yet to remove his elbow and shuck you off - you dared not mention it.

The trip to the cabin was relatively quiet, save Eris informing you of his plan. You were to stay in a cabin in the vast forest, spending your days spying around and gathering information; he stated he would help where he could and keep an eye on his father.

You were glad he hadn't planned on sneaking you into the Forest House. Were you happy to spy in Autumn? Yes. Were you intrinsically afraid of Beron Vanserra? Gods yes.

You must've been walking for at least half an hour before the wood of the cabin came into view. It was a quaint little place, decked in a few faelights on the porch, and overlooking a small pond in the distance. You doubted the High Lord of Autumn knew of its existence.

Eris climbed the steps and opened the door for you, a faint scent of cedar and cinnamon flooding your nose. It was somehow even cosier as you stepped inside.

It was warm. A fire was roaring by the front entrance, illuminating the couch and the armchairs that sat by a window. To the right seemed to be a kitchen and a dining room in one; you got the impression there was rarely more than one person staying here at a time.

What shocked you the most was the life inside. Plants were growing on every surface they could sit, plush blankets were strewn across the seats, and a book was open, face-down on the tea table.

You heard the door close and turned to find Eris standing, now without your bag, a pink tinge on his cheeks.

"This is your hideout, then?" You spun around again, walking to take in the view of the room.

"Mhm," Eris reclined in one of the armchairs, "Beron is unaware of it. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Don't worry," You chuckled as you leaned to look out of the window, "I don't plan on encountering your father while I'm here."

You could almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he said coyly behind you, "And what do you plan on doing while you're here?"

And what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

A tingle ran down your spine at the implication in his words, a decision quickly being made in your mind. You smiled to yourself, twisted your head to look at him over your shoulder, and pushed yourself off of the sill.

Eris was adjusting now, long legs spreading wide as a hand held his head up on the arm of the chair. You took slow steps to him, never breaking the eye contact he held deliciously. His eyes bore into yours, a lazy kind of amusement flickering in them.

His head tilted upwards and you drew nearer, your legs colliding with the plush of the armchair as you mounted his lap. With you straddling him now, he took the opportunity to run his hands from where they were placed to the back of your thighs, rubbing delicately.

"I can think of a few things." Your voice was low as you smirked, and it only took a second before Eris was reaching a hand to your chin and bringing your lips down to his.

You didn't know this feeling could get better, and somehow, it had. This time, the both of you were unhurried. There was no where to be, no risk of being caught. And though that feeling had you exhilarated last time, and you'd most certainly touched yourself to the idea of someone finding you with Eris between your legs, you liked this more.

You liked the way his tongue was caressing yours, now with no sense of urgency. He was learning - mapping your mouth and body and trying to memorise what made you tick.

Your hands were in his hair, shaking slightly as they tugged and caressed. You convinced yourself it was eagerness; it certainly was not because of how nervous Eris made you. How excited.

The male ran his hands from your face slowly, slowly, slowly down to where your leathers were buckled at your hips. His deft fingers made short work of the straps, pulling the clothing apart just enough to place a warm hand on your skin.

His thumb stroked gentle patterns into your hip bone, staying just far enough away from your centre to tease. The intimacy had you mewling into Eris' mouth.

"For as much as I hate the Night Court, I'm suddenly feeling rather grateful for how little they have you wear." He muttered against your lips.

Eris chuckled when you bit his lip as punishment.

Your hands fell clumsily on his torso to begin untying his shirt without pulling your face from his. It proved hard work and didn't take either of you long to lose patience and tear at each other's clothes.

You barely noticed the garments flying across the room - you were far too busy focusing on the heir of Autumn sat naked underneath you.

He was fucking glorious.

The expanse of chiseled torso seemed to extend for miles; freckled, pale skin swelled with every breath as he took in your bare form, now only decorated with undergarments. His strong arms wrapped around your middle made you feel small. Everything about this male made you want him to manhandle you. Ruin you.

You looked to meet Eris' eyes but he hadn't yet lifted his gaze from your body. You felt exposed as he trailed each and every detail of your skin with that infuriatingly sultry smirk.

"I cannot believe they would keep you locked away from me up in that treacherous place," His lips descended onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder, "This is where you belong."

"In your lap?" You were breathless.

"Is this not an adequate throne?"

You groaned as his sinful tongue fell upon your breast, sucking and licking and kissing, until he carried you by your waist and laid you on the dining table. The cold of the wood met your back and you realised, somewhere down the line, Eris had removed your brassiere.

Audacious fuck, you chastised silently.

Your back arched as his calloused palm slowly trailed all the way from your clavicle, between your breasts, and down to your drenched briefs. He removed them slowly, amber eyes feasting on your own. First, he kissed your hip. It was slow and gentle. You weren't sure what you were expecting from Eris Vanserra as a lover, but you were certain it wasn't tenderness.

He took his time with you here. Teasing you and building tension until you were sure to explode. It was only when you began to writhe that he smiled amorously and pounced on you.

Gods, his tongue was incredible.

You never understood when other females said that they'd seen stars; your lovers were never anything more than adequate - you did most of the work and certainly were not compensated fairly. But here, with Eris? He didn't have you seeing stars. You were sure you were seeing galaxies.

It felt like being plunged into the cosmos - soul removed and bones like jelly, one with the universe and higher than anything that had existed before. Something warm filled your body. It felt like a star had exploded inside of you, like you were lighter than air, like something had snapped into place.

You were sure it was nothing.

Eris continued his pursuit on your cunt, licking and lapping and sucking in all the right spots, and when he found just the right one, he made his home. He didn't stop until your release was covering the table.

You heaved a pleasured sigh and looked up at him. The table wasn't the only thing covered in you, it seemed. You giggled lightly, hands reaching for him like a babe as he heartily chuckled, too.

Eris' lips met yours once more and you wrapped your legs around his waist, practically begging for him to enter you.

"Want something?"

"Don't tease, fireling."

"Do you really think now is an appropriate time to goad me?" He accentuated his point by pulling your hair taut and nipping at the skin of your jaw.

"I think now is an appropriate time for you to fuck me."

He hummed lowly, "My, my. That mouth of yours ought to get you into trouble one day."

Sick of waiting, you reached down between your bodies. You felt a shiver wrack Eris' body as your fingernails scraped gently along his abdominal muscles, before wrapping around his very substantially sized cock.

It was the biggest you'd seen. You wouldn't be telling him that.

"Today better be that day." You looked up at him through your eyelashes and watched desire fill his eyes.

Eris laid you flat against the table once more and had no hesitation is dragging you by your thighs to the edge of it. He pumped himself once, twice, before lining up to your entrance and loosing a breath.

Was he nervous?

It didn't matter if he was, because any cohesive thought soon left your mind as Eris sheathed the tip of his cock inside of you. The sound that left your mouth was borderline humiliating, but Eris seemed to revel in it as he plunged deeper inside of you.

You expected him to set a bruising pace outright. Instead, you were met with the most unholy of rhythms. He rocked inside of you, gentle but firm, moving his hips in a way that had you tearing at the skin of back.

His mouth hung open as he panted above you, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he finally caught his breath enough to ask, "What do you need?"

The question was enough to make you preen, not one you'd been asked before, and you barely garbled some version of just you.

His pace quickened slightly at your words. He fucked you like it was the last thing he'd ever do - like someone was going to steal him in the night and this was the last touch of another person he'd ever be allowed. It was desperate and dirty and depraved and you couldn't get enough of him.

You were treated to a second orgasm just from the penetration alone, and a third from his fingers working at your clit.

When he finally spilled inside of you, it was with a muffled cry into your neck. The table was digging into your back and you were absolutely starved, yet you hoped nothing would interrupt this moment between you both. You laid there for a moment, panting together, with something in the air you couldn't quite out your finger on. But something was certain.

"Rhys is going to fucking kill me."

[mahalachives]

This Is Why We Can’t Have Diplomatic Visits

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader (mated-pairing), minor reader x Eris

Genre: Crack Humor, Unserious, Canon-Compliant (ish)

Summary: When a diplomatic dinner in the Autumn Court takes a turn, a few too many glasses of wine—and Eris Vanserra’s smug face—lead you to publicly threaten him on Azriel’s behalf. What follows is an escalating war of petty letters, unsolicited gifts, and one extremely scandalous painting. Azriel is jealous. You are chaotic. Eris is entertained. And the Inner Circle is placing bets.

It started with wine.

Not just any wine. Autumn Court wine—potent, honey-sweet, and designed to hit like a chariot on fire. You’d only had two glasses. Three if you counted the one you “borrowed” from Mor when she wasn’t looking.

But it wasn’t the wine that did it. It was Eris.

He’d leaned back in his golden chair, flicking imaginary lint off his jacket, and said, in that voice that oozed smarm and superiority.

“Spymaster. Still hiding behind shadows and secrets? Tell me—do your little spies send love letters, too?”

Azriel didn’t flinch. He never did. Just stared, quiet and lethal, like he was already planning where to bury the body.

But you flinched. And then you stood.

Fast.

“Alright, you flaming ginger string bean,” you said, slamming your goblet down. “That’s it.”

Everyone at the table froze.

Even Rhysand blinked.

Feyre whispered, “Oh no.”

Cassian mouthed, do it, while Nesta smacked him.

Azriel’s voice was quiet, deadly. “Y/N. Sit.”

You didn’t.

“You’ve got some nerve, Eris Flame-Me-Up Vanserra,” you slurred, pointing at him like an accusatory ghost. “You don’t get to talk to Az like that. Not while I’m here. Not while I have working limbs.”

“I am merely speaking—”

“I will feed you to your own court’s sentient trees,” you cut in. “How dare you insult the love of my life when he’s literally ten seconds away from shadow-smothering you into next week.”

Eris blinked. “Love of your—?”

“That’s right,” you snapped, wobbling slightly as you turned to the room. “I’m his mate. His mate. Which means I’m contractually obligated to throw hands when someone comes for him. I will fistfight a High Lord’s son, I swear it.”

“I am a High Lord’s son,” Eris said mildly.

“Perfect. That means I get extra points.”

Rhysand choked on his wine. Mor was wheezing.

Azriel, still seated, rubbed his temples. “I need to get her out of here.”

“I’m fine,” you said, trying to lunge across the table. Azriel caught you mid-launch, shadows wrapping around your waist like a seatbelt.

“No murder tonight,” he murmured into your ear as you flailed. “You promised. Remember the chart?”

You paused. “…I forgot about the chart.”

He shadow-walked you right out of the room, bridal-style, as you shouted behind him, “Tell Eris his hair looks like expired cider!”

(Later in your shared rooms...)

You lay face-down on the bed.

Azriel sat beside you, silent, until you peeked up at him and muttered, “You mad?”

He sighed. “No. But next time, maybe let me handle the diplomatic incidents.”

You grinned, cheek smushed into the pillow. “Yeah. But you can’t deny it was hot.”

His shadows twitched.

“…Maybe a little.”

The next morning...

You were halfway through your hangover tea (Azriel’s special brew—spitefully effective and probably brewed over the bones of your enemies), when a knock echoed through your suite.

You blinked at the door. “Did you order breakfast?”

Azriel looked up from his perch at the window, sharpening Truth-Teller like he was fantasizing about Eris-shaped practice targets. “No.”

The door creaked open before either of you could reach it.

And in walked a servant. Carrying flowers.

Not just any flowers. Fiery red, golden-tipped Autumn Court blooms. A bouquet the size of a small wyvern. Tucked inside was a silver card with your name on it.

Azriel was on his feet in a blink. “Is that—”

You snatched the card, flipped it open, and promptly choked on your tea.

To the Spirited Mate of the Shadowsinger, Your defense was both reckless and deeply entertaining. Consider me intrigued. — Eris Vanserra (P.S. His brooding is a bit much, isn’t it?)

You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Oh my gods.”

Azriel snatched the card out of your hand like it offended the air.

He read it.

He blinked once.

Twice.

“…He flirted with you.”

“He did.”

“He flirted. With my mate. After you threatened him.”

You beamed. “I think I impressed him.”

Azriel looked like he was experiencing all five stages of grief at once.

Azriel, deadpan: “I will end him.”

You: “Please don’t. I want to see if he sends chocolates next.”

(Later that afternoon.)

Cassian nearly fell off the roof when he saw the flowers.

“Wait—wait—he sent you a bouquet? Like a come-hither bouquet??” he hollered.

You nodded solemnly. “Apparently, threatening political figures while intoxicated is a turn-on.”

Mor snorted wine through her nose. “You have to frame that card.”

Azriel, pacing behind you, muttering, “I’m going to set his hair on fire.”

You leaned back and grinned. “You jealous, Az?”

His shadows twitched. “I am offended on a spiritual level.”

“Don’t worry,” you said sweetly, grabbing his belt and tugging him close. “You’re still my favorite broody bastard.”

He glared, then kissed you hard enough to shut you up.

Cassian: “Gross. Az, do that in private. Or at least wait until I’m done throwing the bouquet off the balcony—!”

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

You found Azriel hunched over the desk in your shared study, shadows swirling like angry cats, quill scratching furiously on parchment. He didn’t look up when you entered.

You peered over his shoulder.

Dear Lord Eris,

Thank you for your recent gift.

It is always a joy to be reminded that the Autumn Court has mastered both combustion and desperation.

Combustion and desperation? You clapped a hand over your mouth.

I assure you, the letter continued, that my mate is not accepting applications, suggestions, or flame-adjacent flirtations. She is, as you might have noticed, spoken for.

By me.

P.S. Your hairline is retreating faster than your moral compass.

“Az.”

He kept writing.

P.P.S. If you send one more gift, I will return it—on fire.

“Azriel.”

He didn’t stop.

P.P.P.S. My mate says hello. She also says your flowers were basic.

“AZRIEL.”

He blinked up at you, shadows pausing mid-scribble.

You snatched the letter from his hands. “You’re writing to him? Like some kind of spiteful pen pal?”

“I am responding diplomatically,” he said flatly.

“You called him desperate with a receding hairline.”

“I lied about neither.”

You stared at him. “You signed it P.P.P.S. Az.”

He crossed his arms. “If he wants to play games, he should at least know I play better.”

Three days later...

It arrived in a crate.

A massive, magically-sealed crate, right in the middle of your shared living room. Wrapped in velvet. Stamped with the Autumn Court crest.

Azriel stood in front of it with arms crossed and a look on his face like someone had personally insulted his siphons.

You blinked at the shipping label.

“…Why is it addressed to 'The Mate of the Shadowsinger'?”

Azriel growled. “Because Eris is a walking provocation with a god complex.”

Rhysand strolled in, already grinning. “Is this the painting?”

You whipped around. “Wait—you knew about this?”

“Oh yes,” Rhys said, summoning wine. “Eris sent me a copy of the concept sketch. Asked if it was too much. I told him to go bigger.”

You: “Rhysand!”

Azriel: “He dies. Today.”

Cassian burst through the door with popcorn and a chair.

“Wait for me to sit down,” he said. “I need to see Azzy’s face.”

Mor followed behind him with her phone. “I’m recording this for posterity. Also, Feyre’s demanding updates.”

Nesta: “You people are sick.”

You: “Nesta, you’re holding a betting slip.”

Nesta: “Your point?”

Azriel hissed under his breath and yanked the crate open with a sharp crack of shadow.

The velvet fell away.

Everyone stared.

It was a painting. A life-sized, oil-painted portrait of Eris Vanserra, lounging on a chaise, completely shirtless. Smirking like sin.

Wearing a robe.

Not just any robe.

A robe made of Azriel’s shadows.

You choked. “Oh my gods.”

Mor dropped her drink.

Cassian fell out of the chair.

Nesta whispered, “He committed to the bit.”

Rhysand, between wheezes: “Look at the brushwork. He used actual shadow magic to give it texture. It’s…magnificent.”

Azriel was frozen. Face blank. Siphons pulsing.

“…He stole my shadows,” Azriel said, voice flat. “He stole my sentient, living shadows and turned them into a bathrobe.”

You: “Technically it’s a cape-robe hybrid, but yes.”

Azriel turned to you slowly. “You are not helping.”

You swallowed a snort. “I’m sorry. I’m panicking. My coping mechanism is commentary.”

Rhysand wiped a tear away. “Can we hang it in the River House?”

Azriel: “I will burn it.”

Cassian: “NO. This is history.”

Azriel, quietly: “He signed it.”

You all leaned in.

At the bottom corner, in crimson ink:

To Azriel, with admiration. Your shadows look better on me. — E

You: “…You have to kill him now.”

Azriel: “I’m writing a second letter.”

Cassian: “Make it a sonnet.”

Rhys: “Make it a duel.”

Azriel vanished into his shadows, already plotting vengeance.

You stood there, blinking at the painting. "...I kind of want to keep it."

Two days later...

You were eating breakfast when a letter appeared in a swirl of shadows and glitter.

Glitter.

That was the first sign something was deeply wrong.

Mor peered at the envelope. “Is… is that a glitter bomb curse?”

You blinked. “Azriel knows how to do that?”

Rhysand, sipping tea: “He’s been studying with Amren. She’s very proud.”

The envelope was addressed to:

To Eris Vanserra, Lord of Autumn, King of Flamboyant Delusions.

You opened it carefully.

Inside was a single glamoured photo.

You gasped.

So did everyone else.

It was Azriel.

Shirtless. Covered in shadows and golden siphon light. Standing in the training ring like a bat-winged revenge model.

Arms crossed. Wings flared. Muscles rude.

And across the bottom, in elegant Night Court script:

“Thanks for the inspiration. I decided to try robes too. Mine actually fit.”

Cassian dropped his toast. “He made a revenge thirst trap.”

Rhys was howling. “This is the most aggressive form of flirting I’ve ever seen—and they’re not even flirting with each other!”

Mor fanned herself. “I’m not even into Azriel and I need a moment.”

Nesta blinked. “Send it to Eris twice.”

You were speechless. “Did he… pose for this??”

You were so close to getting away with it.

The Eris painting? Hidden behind your old training gear.

Azriel’s shirtless calendar? Laminated. Hung on the inside of your closet door. Discreet. Artistic. Totally justified.

The flower crown? Just a seasonal craft project gone awry. (You may have hot glued it to his head in the July page.)

But then Azriel found it.

You came home to find him sitting on the bed.

Silent. Staring at the open closet.

The calendar dangled from his fingers.

His flower-crowned portrait smiling back at you like an idiot with a six-pack.

You froze.

He didn’t look at you.

Just said, flatly:

“…You laminated me.”

You opened your mouth. “That could’ve been anyone.”

His head turned slowly. “You gave me dimples.”

“They’re accurate!”

“There are sparkles on my abs.”

You folded your arms. “What do you want from me, Az? You looked hot. I have eyes. I commemorated the moment.”

“You hot glued a floral tiara to my head.”

You stepped closer, hands on hips. “It’s not a tiara. It’s a statement.

He stared at you for a long, long moment.

Then:

“…What’s the statement? That I moonlight as a whimsical forest prince?”

You grinned. “Exactly. A deadly, brooding, morally ambiguous flower fae.”

His shadows twitched. His jaw worked.

Then—slowly—he stood.

Crossed the room.

Picked you up without warning and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“AZRIEL!”

“You’re going to explain to my face,” he said, walking toward the bedroom, “why I’m September and March in your calendar.”

“BECAUSE YOU PEAKED TWICE.”

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“YOU’RE LUCKY I DIDN’T MAKE IT A STICKER BOOK!”

He slammed the door behind him—laughing.

End

This oneshot is unserious, and It had no direction whatsoever. Enjoy the chaos. 🩵

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

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[honeybeefae]

All things ACOTAR related I have written. All fics marked with a * include smut so minors DNI <3

Updated Masterlist for a new layout for the blog! This masterlist was updated on: 06/07/2025

Characters

Azriel & Reader

A Slight Inconvenience*

Behind The Masks

Can You Keep a Secret? *

Capture The Flag

Desperate Times*

Enemy of my Enemy

Late Night Talking

Life Imitates Art*

Light The Way

Light and Shadow (Azriel/Reader/Helion)*

Perfection*

Playing the Part*

Quiet as a Mouse*

Revenge*

Shadows of Fire (Azriel/Reader/Eris)*

The Illyrian Way*

When Roles Reverse*

Eris & Reader

All We Have Is Now*

Be Happy For Me, Please.

Can We Start Again?

Cauldron Fated*

Ceremonial Duties*

Corruption*

Flames of Silver (Eris/Reader/Nesta)*

Heavy is the Head*

High Lord & Lady*

In Sickness and In Health

Life Finds a Way

One Night

Out of the Woods

Shadows of Fire (Eris/Reader/Azriel)*

Starfall Wishes

Sticks and Stones*

The Sins That Bind Us*

Use Me*

You're Mine*

Helion & Reader

A New Name*

Light and Shadow (Helion/Reader/Azriel)*

Right Here, Right Now*

Cassian & Reader

Bigger Than The Whole Sky

Size Matters*

Thrill of the Chase*

Tradition*

Wake Up, Princess*

Shut Up and Kiss Me*

Rhysand & Reader

In Plain Sight*

Pretty Little Tears*

When He's Alone*

Bat Boys & Reader

Passing Notes*

Unexpected Visitors*

7 Minutes in Heaven*

Lucien & Reader

Better Than Fiction*

Finding Home

Royal Duties*

The Way I Hate You*

Mor & Reader

Chance Encounters

Nesta & Reader

Flames of Silver (Nesta/Reader/Eris)*

To Build A Home

Multi Chapter Fics

A Court of Wings & Fire (Eris x Illyrian!Reader)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Forgotten Ties (Eris x Reader)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Playlist For Story

To Have and To Hate (Eris x Reader)

Chapter One: The Announcement

Chapter Two: The Forest House

Imagines

Halloween (Azriel/Reader/Eris)*

Brothels (Eris x Reader)*

A Mouse In a Cage (Azriel x Reader)

Between Two Brothers (Cassian/Reader/Azriel)*

Shower (Azriel x Reader)*

Themed Weeks/Months

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Eris Week 2023 Masterlist

Valentine's Day Mini Fics 2023

Azriel Rhysand Cassian Lucien Eris

[kyorta]

“So what’s the asking price, Eris?” Mor demanded. “Another little bride for you to torture?” Something flickered in Eris’s eyes. “I don’t know who fed you those lies to begin with, Morrigan,” he said with vicious calm. “Likely the bastards you surround yourself with.” A sneer at Azriel. Mor snarled, rattling the glasses. “You never gave any evidence to the contrary. Certainly not when you left me in those woods.” “There were forces at work that you have never considered,” Eris said coldly. "I was given an order. And sent to do it with two of my … brothers.” “And what of the brother you hunted down alongside me? The one whose lover you helped to execute before his eyes?” Eris laid a hand flat on the table. “You know nothing about what happened that day. Nothing.” ... "Stay with the night court and risk your ruin."

Eris, please tell me your version of this story!

[siriuslystyle1989]

Call It What You Want.

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a long mission away, the only thing Azriel wants is his mate.

Warnings: Fluff

masterlist

Door clicking open, Azriel found himself letting out a sigh of relief at the familiar scent of him and his mates shared home.

Meandering through their large apartment in the centre of Velaris, Azriel searched for where Y/n could possibly be.

The mission had been gruelling. Trying to stay hidden and get information on the continent is no easy task, but Azriel was the best person to do it. Everyone knew that.

Azriel's shadows balled around him as if they were as equally as tired as him.

"Az?" a familiar female voice fell to his ears "Is that you?"

Before he could reply, footsteps from the kitchen began to draw nearer. Until he was greeted with Y/n's face.

"Oh my love" She spoke softly with a pout on her face as his shadows suddenly awoke again, making their way towards her.

Azriel felt pathetically tired. Therefore when Y/n opened her arms towards the man he practically fell into them.

Stroking his hair, Y/n placed delicate kisses on his head as she guided him to their shared bedroom.

"I need to take a shower, I stink." Azriel groaned, not wanting to leave his mates embrace.

He might seem clingy, sure, but neither Azriel nor Y/n could care. They just enjoyed the feeling of being in each other's arms, especially after being apart for so long.

"Okay, you go shower and I'll make you some tea for when you come out." Y/n smiled at his dramatics as she made her way back to the kitchen.

After around 20 minutes, Azriel left the bathroom to find Y/n sat with a book open on their bed.

Looking up, Y/n smiled at him.

"Baby, let's get you to bed." the girl spoke, her voice just above a whisper.

She helped him snuggle into the blankets as he laid his head on her chest.

"I'm going to kill Rhys if he sends you on any more missions any time soon."

Azriel let out a small laugh, his shadows curling around Y/n in comfort.

"Let's not think about him right now please?" He grumbled as he buried his head further into the crook of her neck.

Y/n giggled slightly and ran a hand through his hair.

"I love you."

A/N: Thank you for all of the love recently!! my requests are open all the time for anyone who wants to send some in. This is my first acotar fic but I'm happy to write for any of the characters! Though my favourites are probably Lucien, Eris and Azriel lol.

[ladydeath-vanserra]

I understand that Mor was in pain and was injured because of her fucked up family but what, exactly, was Eris supposed to do without endangering himself and further harming her?

Beron is high key abusive and will harm Eris if he tried to help Mor after she disgraced Beron like she did. He'd also harm Mor even more for the disgrace and make an example out of her and that's not even including the part where she would now be Autumn Court property

Mor slept with Cassian, ruining her proposal with Eris, with the intention of ruining that proposal, and endangered her life and Cassians life in the process. What, exactly, did she think would be the consequences of ruining her proposal? everyone being like welp! guess there's no wedding also btw the bastard should probably be beaten for this

like i don't get it. Eris gave her exactly what she wanted and everyone is still mad at him

[bonecarversbestie]

Prythian handwriting ranking

From best to worst

Nesta -- She would make having perfect handwriting into a sport

Elain -- Everything she does is pretty

Lucien -- He's big on appearances and communication is kinda his job. Also i just think the children of the Autumn Court would be taught fancy cursive

Eris -- (See point No. 3)

Mor -- she dots the i's with little hearts

Rhys -- tidy, but he writes in all caps

Azriel -- legible but clearly boy handwriting

Feyre -- looks the same as Rhysand's but messier

Tamlin -- Used to be at No. 7, but he spent so long in his beast form that he forgot how

Amren -- no one knows bc it's all in another language

Cassian -- completely illegible

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows Masterlist

Eris x Azriel's Sister OC

read on ao3

Summary: Estella is the younger sister of Azriel. Like her older brother, she is a shadowsinger and spymaster for the Night Court. When she meets Eris, she initially despises him, but after a bargain is made between them, and they are stuck Under the Mountain together, things begin heating up.

cw: canon typical violence, mentions of child abuse and domestic abuse, beron🤮, mentions of whipping, mentions of reader being groomed in past relationship(though she was an adult), overprotective batboys, mentions of rhys being assaulted utm, just tw for amarantha in general

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve

taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd @fxckmiup

Eris Taglist:

Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!

[incorrectacotarblog]

Rhysand: Nesta, don’t let anyone treat you like an option

Nesta: wow that’s actually really nice of you to say

Rhysand: you’re inevitable - a horror beyond comprehension, an omen, a threat

Nesta:

[dumb-ster-fire]

Inner Circle Banter x fem! reader - Part 2

Azriel x mate!reader

a/n: I saw how people loved the first one so I made another.Here is more unhinged Y/N 🫶🏻

warnings: NSFW language

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Inner Circle was a mess. A hilarious, drunken mess.

Y/N lounged on the couch, her head thrown back in laughter as Cassian dramatically slurred his way through a story that had long since lost any coherent plot. Mor was draped over Amren—who, despite being the smallest among them, was somehow holding her liquor the best—while Rhys was slumped back in his chair, lazily swirling the wine in his glass as if he were still trying to uphold some dignity. Feyre was giggling into her own drink, her cheeks flushed, while Nesta sat beside her, eyes glassy but still managing to look unimpressed.

Azriel? Oh, Azriel was leaning against Y/N, his usually composed self utterly gone as he pressed his face into her shoulder, murmuring something unintelligible. His shadows were sluggish, barely responding to him, as if even they were drunk.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her skin, voice thick with alcohol.

Y/N grinned, poking his cheek. “I know, Az. You told me five times already. And then you tried to fight Cassian because he ‘breathed too close to me.’”

Cassian, still dramatically sprawled over the arm of the couch, scoffed. “I was breathing! What was I supposed to do? Stop??”

Azriel lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Maybe.”

Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing, her fingers brushing through his hair as he huffed and nuzzled closer again, clearly deciding he was too drunk to keep arguing.

Rhys, ever the instigator, lazily gestured between them. “You two are disgustingly cute. It’s offensive.”

“Bold words from a man who practically worships the ground Feyre walks on,” Y/N shot back, smirking.

Feyre laughed, elbowing her mate. “She’s got you there.”

Meanwhile, Mor had somehow convinced Amren to take another shot, which resulted in Amren standing on the table, proclaiming in her small but fierce voice, “I was a GOD before any of you existed!” before promptly sitting back down like nothing happened.

Nesta, watching all of this unfold, slowly took another sip of her drink. “I hate all of you.”

Cassian slung an arm around her shoulders, grinning sloppily. “You love us.”

Y/N, still cuddling a very tipsy Azriel, raised her glass. “To being an absolute disaster!”

The Inner Circle cheered—or, in Azriel’s case, just hummed sleepily against her shoulder—as they all drank, fully embracing the chaos of the night.

Mor, absolutely hammered, slumped against the couch with a lazy smirk as she eyed Y/N and Azriel. “So, Y/N,” she slurred, twirling the last bit of wine in her glass, “is Azriel your type?”

Y/N, equally drunk but ever the menace, grinned wickedly, barely missing a beat. “Ah, yes,” she said dramatically, lifting her hands like she was painting a masterpiece. “Gentle and loving but also will choke and spit on me… chef’s kiss.”

Silence. Then absolute chaos.

Cassian howled with laughter, nearly falling off the couch, pounding his fist against the armrest. Rhysand actually choked on his drink, eyes wide in stunned amusement. Feyre’s face turned a deep shade of red, trying so hard not to spit out her wine. Even Nesta looked momentarily stunned before she smirked behind her glass.

Mor gasped, covering her mouth before dissolving into uncontrollable giggles. “Oh my gods, I love you,” she wheezed, slapping Y/N’s thigh.

Azriel? Poor, poor Azriel.

The male had been lazily leaning against Y/N, all content and warm in his drunken haze—until that. His entire body tensed, and his head snapped toward her, his hazel eyes wide as if she had just announced their sex life to the entire continent.

“Y/N,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, his ears tinged red.

“What?” she giggled, batting her lashes at him. “It’s true.”

Cassian, still cackling, wiped a tear from his eye. “Brother, you are so screwed.”

“Literally,” Mor added between snickers.

Rhys, who had finally recovered, grinned like a cat who had just been given the juiciest piece of gossip. “So, Az, anything you’d like to confirm or deny?”

Azriel glared daggers at him, but before he could even attempt to salvage his dignity, Y/N leaned in, her drunk mischief on full display, whispering against his ear, “Don’t worry, babe, I didn’t tell them about the rope this time.”

Azriel let out a long sigh, leaning fully back against the couch, clearly accepting his fate.

Meanwhile, Mor lifted her glass. “To Azriel being the perfect balance of soft and filthy!”

The Inner Circle cheered, and Y/N—still smug and delightfully tipsy—leaned back against her mate, smirking like the absolute menace she was.

Azriel was suffering.

Not in the way he had suffered on battlefields, or through centuries of pain and shadowy burdens. No, this was an entirely new kind of torture—one that involved his mate being an absolute menace, his so-called family reveling in his humiliation, and him being too drunk to properly shut any of it down.

Y/N, meanwhile, was thriving.

She was still perched in his lap, looking far too pleased with herself, while the Inner Circle continued their drunken revelry. Cassian, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, still wasn’t over it. “Choke and spit on me,” he wheezed, practically collapsing into Nesta, who rolled her eyes but was biting back a smirk. “That was legendary.”

“I mean, it’s good to know he meets expectations,” Mor teased, swirling her drink.

Rhys, ever the opportunist, lounged back with a smirk that screamed trouble. “You know, I always suspected Az had a secret wild side. But this?” He exhaled, shaking his head. “This is delightful confirmation.”

Azriel groaned, dropping his head against the back of the couch. He’d faced wars with more dignity than this.

Y/N, full of unholy glee, kissed his cheek again. “You love me,” she sing-songed, absolutely insufferable.

Azriel lifted his head, fixing her with a look that was equal parts fond and exasperated. “…I do.”

Cassian let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh shit, he admitted it. In front of witnesses. It’s over for him.”

Feyre, shaking with silent laughter, raised a brow at Az. “Honestly, I didn’t expect this side of you.”

“I hate this side of me,” Azriel muttered, reaching for his drink as if that would somehow erase the conversation.

Y/N, with the biggest shit-eating grin, leaned in again, whispering just for him, “Liar. You love that I’m saying this in front of them.”

Azriel, deadpan, took a very long sip of his drink.

Mor smirked at Y/N. “So, when are you teaching me how to get a mate to be the perfect mix of sweet and depraved?”

Y/N, without hesitation, threw an arm around Azriel’s shoulders, smirking. “Step one: Find a stoic, broody male with a secret filthy side. Step two: Break him.”

Cassian actually howled at that, nearly falling off the couch. Rhys was howling too, wiping at his eyes. “Oh fuck, she got you so good, brother.”

Azriel just sat there, silently suffering, as Y/N nuzzled into him, smug and victorious.

And, gods help him—he did love her for it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night only spiraled further into chaos.

Cassian, still wheezing from laughter, slammed a hand down on the table. “Alright, alright—we have to make this official.”

Y/N perked up in Azriel’s lap. “Make what official?”

“The breaking of Azriel,” Cassian declared grandly, gesturing wildly with his half-empty glass of whiskey. “For centuries, he was the untouchable, brooding mystery. Silent, deadly, repressed.” He pointed at Y/N with the authority of a drunk philosopher. “And then you showed up and turned him into a man who admits his feelings, growls at people who look at you too long, and—” He paused dramatically. “—is apparently a choking enthusiast.”

Azriel groaned and buried his face in Y/N’s shoulder, while Mor cackled, Nesta snorted into her wine, and Rhysand grinned like the bastard he was.

“You make it sound like I did witchcraft on him,” Y/N teased, idly playing with Azriel’s hair.

Cassian pointed again. “I knew there was something supernatural about you.” He turned to Feyre, suddenly serious. “Feyre, paint a picture of Az’s descent into sin.”

“Please don’t,” Azriel muttered into Y/N’s shoulder.

Feyre, biting back a smirk, tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I could capture his internal struggle—the battle between his old, broody self and the broken man who now worships at the altar of his mate’s chaos.”

Rhys beamed. “That’s art.”

Azriel groaned louder.

Y/N, full of mischief and absolutely loving this, turned and whispered against his ear, “You do worship at my altar, don’t you?”

Azriel lifted his head just enough to give her a look—one that promised payback. But she only grinned wider, completely unrepentant.

“Alright, final proof that Az has been fully corrupted,” Mor said, raising her glass. “Y/N, what’s the filthiest thing he’s ever said to you?”

Azriel straightened immediately. “Nope.”

Y/N tapped a finger against her lips, pretending to think. “Hmm… Oh! There was that one time—”

“Y/N,” Az warned, voice low and dark.

Y/N, completely ignoring the danger, continued, “—where he told me exactly how he planned to—”

Azriel moved.

One second, Y/N was sitting in his lap, the next, he had her thrown over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. She let out a surprised yelp, then laughed, pounding a playful fist against his back. “Az! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said simply, standing up. “Goodnight, everyone.”

“BOOOOOO,” Cassian and Mor jeered in unison.

“Coward!” Rhys added.

“At least let her finish the story!” Nesta called after them.

But Azriel was already carrying Y/N out of the room, ignoring every taunt, Y/N still giggling and squirming in his hold.

“Azriel, you love me!” she sing-songed again, clinging onto him as he walked.

He gave her a firm smack on the ass, making her yelp. “Oh, I know.”

And then, to the Inner Circle’s absolute delight, Y/N’s laughter echoed down the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel had barely taken three steps down the hall, Y/N still slung over his shoulder, when she purred, "You know I love it when you spank me."

He froze.

The Inner Circle-who had definitely not left yet

-erupted.

Cassian nearly fell out of his chair. "OH MY GODS!"

Mor howled. "| KNEW IT!"

Rhysand, the absolute bastard, actually clapped.

"Confirmed!"

Nesta just rolled her eyes, sipping her wine. "Of course she does."

Azriel, who had thought he was saving himself from further embarrassment, had severely underestimated Y/N.

Y/N, still hanging over his shoulder, giggled and wiggled her hips just to tease him. "Mmm, and you do it so well, Shadowsinger."

Azriel gripped her thighs harder, his shadows curling around them in warning. "Y/N," he growled lowly.

But she just smirked. "Are you blushing, love?"

Cassian lost it. "OH MY GODS, HE TOTALLY IS!"

Azriel let out a slow breath, then, very calmly— very deliberately-adjusted his grip and smacked Y/N's ass again.

The sharp gasp she let out made the room go dead silent.

Then she let out a little pleased hum, wiggling again. "See? Told you I loved it."

Azriel vanished them in shadows before anyone could scream again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[merwgue]

No, neris is not a crackship, they could have ended up together because its in the fucking book. Hope this helps!

[utterlyotterlyx]

Another Love - Alternate Ending

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Based on this ask

Original here

Summary - Azriel knows you'd never leave his side, no matter what, but when his new situationship with Elain takes over his every living moment and he takes advantage of your feelings, you make the only decision you can to save yourself only for him to hurt you in a way you never thought he could.

Warnings - ANGST, fluff, swearing, neglect, abuse of feelings, mentions of death, slight grovelling, lots of sadness, feminine rage

Word Count - 6.5k jeez

The clock ticked away, idly counting the seconds by, seconds that turned to minutes, and minutes that turned to hours, hours that Azriel had seemingly forgotten about the promise he had made to take you to the theatre.

The cobalt blue bow in your hair, that you had chosen to perfectly match him, swayed sadly as you moved about your room with a heavy heart, hanging up the dress you had bought especially for the occasion and changing into something more comfortable to wallow in self-pity.

It had become normal, his lateness, his nightly visits became later and shorter until they had stopped all together, well, that is until he needed something from you, and you would give him whatever he asked for, no matter how much it hurt you.

You had been a part of the Inner Circle for over 500 years, you were one of the originals, growing up in the camps with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel, Rhys' mother protected you fiercely, and you were very close to Selene, your chosen sister. You were the one they turned to for everything, you were wise and brutal, an incredible warrior and tactician, but also soft and kind; you were the blue break in a sky of storm clouds, you were the spring breeze that cut through the edge of winter, you were everything.

A thing Azriel knew all too well.

It didn't surprise you when Azriel had become fond of Elain, like it didn't surprise you when he had pined after Mor for all those years, completely looking over you in the process. Elain was a soft and fragile thing, she was quiet and graceful, and Azriel was completely besotted by her. A fact that made your heart curse your stupidity, cursing the hope you had willed into it that maybe he would finally see you.

It was no secret that you and Azriel were the closest out of all of the members of your growing family, you had shared 500 years of respect and adoration for one another.

Azriel was by your side when Selene had so brutally lost her life, he had held your hand through the depression and brought you back to life. Azriel knew every single thing that you loved and hated, he knew what every facial expression meant, he knew every tick of your body language which silently conveyed how you were feeling. Azriel knew you better than anyone, even better than he knew himself. The map of you laid etched bare on the back of his hand, a map he used to scour daily, but now barely even glanced at.

It wasn't so one sided.

You knew Azriel better than anything, and you knew a lot. 500 years of life pointed to a rich knowledge. You were the one who cleaned him up after a mission, you're the one who mended his broken bones and washed his turmoil away. You were the one who helped him overcome his insecurities with his hands. You were the one his shadows shot to at family dinners. You were the one who sang him to sleep when his demons had become to much. There was nothing you wouldn't do for Azriel, even if it meant standing on the side-lines until he wanted you.

Moonlight streaked along the floor of your bedroom, cascading across the pale blue of your comforter and drifting along the edges of your antique furniture. The dress you had wanted to wear to the theatre hung off the frame of your mirror, rippling softly in the gentle breeze that entered through the slightly ajar window.

It was silly to feel upset, you knew Azriel didn't owe you any of his time, but you had really thought he would pull through, especially after you had told him how much you missed spending time with him.

Interrupting your damaging thoughts, your door opened to reveal Azriel, who looked annoyed and not at all in knowing of his lateness or the promise that now lay in tatters in your chest. From the look on his face, you knew instantly that Elain was the one who plagued his mind, she was the cause of it every time he had come to see you recently.

Huffing, Azriel trudged to your cream living area, propping his feet up on the antique table you had asked him to be careful with far too many times and sinking into the cushions. He hadn't spared you a glance as he entered, he didn't note his colour in the form of a bow in your perfectly styled hair, he didn't see the sadness in your eyes laced with that naïve hope that he may have turned up to apologise for being late. He didn't see you.

"What happened this time?" You inquired, wrapping yourself tighter into your robe and sliding into the seat beside him, tucking your legs underneath you and propping your head in your palm as you stared at him.

Azriel was beautiful, scars and demons and all, the height of his cheekbones, those hazel oceans of a thousand emotions, the golden skin and arched brows, the curve of his muscles under his second skin, everything about him was intoxicating.

"Lucien," Azriel through his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, "I was so close to kissing her, so close, Y/N. And then Lucien walked in, he ruined it."

The revelation had stung, he'd never admitted to you to being close to kissing Elain before, it was always a myriad of stolen glances and ghosting touches, of hushed words laced with a million differing meanings. But never a kiss.

Azriel paid no mind to the hurt that radiated from you, he knew it was there, he always knew it was there but he couldn't focus on it.

Only an idiot could be blind to the clear feelings you had toward Azriel, the way you looked at him was not the way a friend looked at another friend, no matter how close they were. Azriel knew that he could never truly push you away, no matter how much you were hurting you'd never leave, he knew that, he knew you'd always be there for him to fall into.

It was so awfully wrong, but he lapped in serenity you gave him, in that unwavering loyalty, and he had no intention to stop drinking from your fountain of love.

"Lucien is her mate, Az. He's bound to not like whatever it is that's going on between you," your voice was gentle and full of understanding, your hand rested on his shoulder and he felt any anger disappear almost immediately. That's what your touch alone could do to him, bring him immeasurable peace.

"I know," he sighed, opening his eyes and turning his head to the side to look at you, a small smile tugged at his lips when he noticed how pretty you looked, with your hair parted just how he liked it, and with a bow tied neatly at the back, "I still think that the cauldron was wrong," your face faltered when he immediately continued on his weekly rant, "It gets it wrong sometimes, we know that. It's wrong, it has to be."

All you wanted was for Azriel to be happy, he deserved it more than anyone you knew. Rhys had found Feyre, who you adored tremendously. Cassian had found Nesta, who had become a very good friend of yours. So, you couldn't blame Azriel for believing that Elain was fated to be his, three brothers for three sisters. Even you had to admit that it made sense, The Mother moved in mysterious ways.

You plastered a smile on your face, you vision catching the satin of your new dress moving softly against the breeze, "Maybe it is," Azriel hummed at your words before continuing on, listing everything he adored about Elain.

"I wish sometimes that she was you, you know? That her and I could be like this, with no one watching over us, to be able to spend time alone and do whatever we wanted to do and talk about anything," it was like he didn't realise what he exactly he was wishing for.

Azriel wanted you to be Elain, so that he could have the life he dreamed of. Elain. Not you. Elain.

You weren't good enough for him.

"I hope you get to that point one day, Az," your voice was strained from holding in your strangled sobs, "I'm tired, can we talk about this more tomorrow?"

"Sure," Azriel smiled at you, rising from his seat and heading to the door, standing in the doorway and looking back at your form still glued to your spot, "I like your bow, Y/N. Blue suits you, always has," and then he closed the door behind him, you waited a few moments before letting your sobs flow through your lips and ripping that damned bow from your hair.

Azriel would never see you the way you begged to be seen, and you couldn't sit around and be the one he fell back to when life wasn't going his way.

More days had passed, more days of Azriel complaining to you, more days of Azriel wishing that Elain and you had switched paths so that he could finally get what he was owed.

Azriel didn't care for your tear stained skin, he didn't care for your weary eyes whenever you spoke of Elain to you.

It was awful that he knew exactly what he was doing, he was abusing your relationship with him, he knew you'd never walk away from him, he knew you'd never be able to put your foot down and tell him to cut it out.

The idea of a mate had him completely obsessed, obsessed to the point that he became blind to what was right in front of him, what had always been in front of him. That blind faith in your loyalty crumbled in his fingers once Rhys had told him that you had decided to purchase your own home in the city, a home away from them all.

"What?" Azriel had asked from his place at the dinner table, bewildered by the news given to them once he had asked where you were.

Nesta knew the exact reason why you had decided you separate yourself from them, you couldn't handle the rejection anymore, and you couldn't begin to heal from the decades worth of heartbreak under the same roof as Azriel and Elain. Nesta knew you held no ill feeling toward her youngest sister, you were too kind for that, you knew it wasn't her fault that Azriel came to you each time something went wrong in their situationship, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"She left, Az," Mor had cried when Rhys had pulled her to one side that afternoon to tell her that you had decided to move into the home that Rhys had bought you after you had made it clear that you needed your own space, and Rhys had spent an hour trying to convince his cousin that your decision was not impacted by anything any of them did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Azriel asked his brother who frowned, Feyre grabbed Rhys' hand and squeezed it in hers, "She can't just leave, Rhys."

"She has every right to after everything she's done for all of us, she deserves some peace," Rhys spoke calmly, snapping his fingers and allowing the sentient home to rid the plates and serving dishes from the table.

Azriel was speechless, he felt a frantic pull in his body, one that was poisoned with desperation at the thought of you being anywhere else than under the roof of the River House, the home you had spent a century redecorating and perfecting, paying special attention to each room to make it feel as homely as possible.

He didn't believe it as his chair groaned against the floor and he took off up the stairs toward your room, pushing his way through the doors to find it completely empty. No pictures hanging on the walls, no lines of hooks containing an array of ribbons in different hues, no dresses draped over your mirror, no antique furniture. It was all gone, and the scent of you that was usually so strong that it drowned him was a whisper in the atmosphere.

You had left.

Anger bubbled within him, how could you leave without saying anything? How could you move out of your shared home without a single word? How could you leave him after 500 years at his side?

Azriel flung open the doors to your balcony, a balcony plush with fresh flowers and greenery, he flexed his wings and hurtled himself into the starlit sky, allowing his shadows to peel from his body and search every inch of Velaris until they returned to him reeking of your scent and pulled him down to a small townhouse along the bank of the Sidra.

It was a charming home, pale brickwork, large bay windows, golden light emitting from them, and a large garden full of rich wildlife and botanicals. Your scent flowed from the closed oak door, lavender and honey with a hint of firewood and he found himself following that smell up the winding path until he was knocking on your door.

Golden light flowed from the home as you opened the door. You were dressed in denim overalls that were spatted with cream paint, you hair was loosely bound on the top of your head, and your face was full of uneasy surprise as you looked at him, "Az, what are you doing here?"

Azriel pushed past you and stood in the centre of your hallway, listening to your deep exhale as you closed the door. The space was pretty, it was very you, the walls were half painted cream from their original sage colour that you were obviously painting over, the coving was white and saturated with intricate little sketches of leaves, the carpet was a rich brown and had clearly been laid that day from how interrupted it looked, the only pattern on it being the imprints of your bare feet. Azriel didn't stop his shadows as they extended from him and scoured each part of your new home, nodding with approval and curling around your fingers in understanding adoration.

White sheets were draped over your perfectly placed furniture, to protect it from the paint no doubt, and the same tarp lay at the foot of the walls to protect the carpet. Music drifted softly about the room, and boxes upon boxes of books lay open, with some of them idly placed on shelves to get them out of the way to be sorted properly at a later date.

"It's true? You've really left," he noted the intricately presented kitchen, white cabinets and exposed wooden beams, just like you always wanted.

You rounded him, walking into your new living space, bending down to pick up one of your plant pots before placing it on the window ledge, your back faced him but he could see the pain in your features through the reflection in the window, "Yes, I live here now."

"No. No. You're coming home with me, this is ridiculous," his heart was beating a mile a minute, he couldn't think straight, all that was consuming him was the reality that his fear had come to fruition, that the one person he believed would never leave him had actually walked away.

"I'm not coming back, Azriel," you told him softly, and he saw your shoulders rise and fall with each deep inhale of breath you forced your lungs to take.

Then you turned to him, in the middle of the home that you were trying to make yours, a home away from him, "I thought you'd never leave me. You can't leave me. You're my best friend, I need you."

"No, you don't. You need someone to fall back onto when life isn't going your way, that's all I am to you now," you felt your heart breaking, you felt it shattering in your chest, "I can't be the one you turn to when something becomes between you and Elain. I can't be the one you wish was her. I can't do it anymore, Az. You've taken advantage of me for too long. You promise me the world and show up empty handed. You don't realise I even exist until you need someone to complain to and I just can't do it anymore."

Azriel knew every word you were saying was the truth, he knew he had been using you, but he never expected you to actually walk away from him, you were supposed to love him too much to leave.

Your heart was in the palm of his hands and he knew it, he knew you'd spent hundreds of years falling deeper in love with him each passing day whilst he pined for someone else. The fact of your departure made a bitter monster appear in his mind, he allowed it to tug on the venom in his heart, he allowed it to control him, "Aren't you supposed to be in love with me?"

Azriel watched your eyes widen and a breathless gasp fall from your lips, "You know?"

The Shadowsinger scoffed, "Of course I know. Only a fool wouldn't be able to see it," he saw your face contort into painful sorrow but did nothing to stop himself from saying, "I've known for years. I've known that you'd never leave, you've always been the one that I come to for anything I need and you never complain or tell me to leave. You made it easy to take advantage of you."

A tear slid down your cheek but Azriel made no move to wipe it away, "I want you to leave."

"I'm not leaving without you."

Fire roared in your eyes, "You have no right to command me after what you've knowingly done. I honestly thought that you didn't know, that it was innocent and that you just needed my advice. Now I know that you've willingly abused my kindness, Azriel, you can rot in hell," the tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes, your voice was strained and sore, your chest was so tight that you thought it may stop beating all together, "Get. Out!"

Azriel had left you then, he had left your door wide open and soared into the skies, leaving you in the home that was now tainted by his deceit.

It had been months since Azriel had seen you, Nesta and Feyre had practically forbid him from going anywhere near your home, that being from the land or sky. But that didn't stop him from allowing his shadows to slither under your front door or linger in the streets, he was desperate to know how you were.

Azriel hated himself for what he had said to you, he hated himself for taking advantage of you. In some way he tried to justify it, you were too good for him, he didn't want to ruin you, but it was clear that he already had.

Your absence had left a void that no one could fill, not even Elain despite her efforts, even the thought of her made his stomach drop and sickness swirl to the point where he couldn't bring himself to be around her. All Elain did was remind him of how he failed you.

Azriel had tried writing to you since you wouldn't see him, he gave the letters to Feyre and Nesta, the latter of which still saw your daily, and grew colder toward him with each passing moment. Even Cassian did nothing to hide his disappointment in him, and Rhys had some very telling words to express once Feyre had told him the truth of what had happened in your home that night.

Nothing was working, things with Elain were strained and difficult, the problems between them so raw and everyone's opinions so disapproving that it created a distance between them that was unmanageable.

Then it dawned on him that nothing was working with Elain because it wasn't meant to. The person who was meant to be his had been under his nose for 500 years, and now wanted nothing to do with him.

Cassian had pulled Azriel from his thoughts by stepping through the threshold of his room, "Are you coming to training?"

"Tell me how to fix it," Azriel lifted his head from his hands and turned his head toward Cassian who sighed in reply, moving to the bed to sit beside Azriel, "I need to know how to fix it."

"Only you can figure that out, Az," Cassian spoke to him, throwing his arm over Azriel's shoulder before continuing, "Y/N loves you Az, she has for 500 years. A few months apart won't change that. You're really fucking stupid for this though, she's the only one of us who knew the exact right thing to do and say every time. Y/N deserves more than the basic requirements of respect, she deserves the world in the palm of her hand and a person who loves her more than he loves himself. Don't bother her unless you can do that."

It was the anniversary of Selene's death, and the day hadn't gotten any easier for you to deal with.

Rhys and you had made a habit of doing something together each year, though, Azriel was the one to accompany you when Rhys had gone Under the Mountain. The location was sacred to you, you and Rhys would bundle yourselves up in blankets and watch the sun set over the Sidra, you'd rehash old memories and stories, ones that you both knew the script to by heart, but that never got old.

Your High Lord had tried to convince you to come home, but didn't push you when you had told him no. Your life had began to feel rather empty without the family antics that consumed your day-to-day life.

"I miss her," you had told him sadly, your head rested on his shoulder as the sun tipped her toes into the water in the distance, the sky grew darker each passing minute.

Rhys hummed, holding you closer to his side, "So do I," he replied with equal sadness, you had all grown up together, you basically were his sister by blood, and when you both had lost her, it only made him clutch to you more, "She'd nail Az's balls to the wall for sure."

A laugh passed through your lips before it died in your throat, you had done your best to not think about Azriel despite him owning your soul, you had done your best to heal from what he had done, but even then, you missed him more than anything, "How is he?"

It was the first time you had asked about him since before you had moved to your new home which was now fully decorated and yours, thanks to Rhys, Feyre and Nesta who made it their priority to help you settle, "He's-" Rhys couldn't lie to you, he was never able to even when you were younger, "-Not great. He misses you, he hates himself for what he said to you that night."

"I'd hate myself too," you had hummed, shifting to stand on the stone ledge where you and Rhys had sat, wanting a better view of the sun as it began to disappear against the horizon.

A familiar cold kiss pecked at your ankles and you looked down to see those shadows you had missed so dearly meandering around where you stood. Cedar entered your lungs and you shivered in painful delight as his warmth curled around your back.

"Y/N," his voice was deep and rough, it was pleading, you looked to your side and found that Rhys had vanished. That damn meddler. "Please look at me."

Not able to say no to that voice, you indulged the Shadowsinger and turned on the balls of your feet to peer upward at him. Azriel had his wings neatly tucked behind his back, his hands dangled at his sides, and his head was hung low. He looked terrible.

"Why are you here?"

Azriel clenched his jaw, he didn't expect you to be happy to see him, but it didn't stop the self hatred from growing in every single cell of his body, "I know how hard today is for you, I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"Well I'm fine, so you can go now," you made a move to walk away, to take the path down the edge of the Sidra to your home which had become your haven away from reality.

Though, you didn't get very far, perhaps two steps before Azriel's fingers curled around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and pulling you back to him, "Y/N, I don't even know how to apologise in the way that you deserve. I don't know how to say sorry and make you feel like I see and hear you."

"What I did was disgusting, I hate myself for it. I never should have taken advantage of you like that, you've done everything to help me the entire time that I've known you and I ruined everything for someone I don't even want. I've always wanted a mate, you know that, and I got so carried away with wanting it that I completely ignored the only person who's ever truly loved me for me despite all of the horrid things I have done. Elain isn't you, Y/N. No one compares to you. No one makes me feel safe like you do, no one makes me feel alive like you do, and no one can make me hope for death by their void like you do."

"I am yours, Y/N. I always have been. I couldn't be the reason you ever got hurt, I couldn't be the one to risk extinguishing that glorious fire in your soul. You are the only one I cannot bear to lose, the thought of losing you terrifies me, it always has, and instead of protecting you, I took advantage of you and pushed you away because I would rather hurt someone else with everything that I am than hurt you with just a a part of it."

"I'm so stupid for ignoring you, I'm a prick for using you as my security blanket rather than let you in, you know me better than I know myself, you love me more than I could ever imagine, and it terrified me because I couldn't let myself love you. I couldn't let myself taint you."

Azriel lifted his hands, cupping your face in his palms and you could see every inch of despair within him, that conflicted flame dancing within his soul, "I'm not asking you to forgive me, I don't think I will ever be able to forgive myself after what I've done to you. I'm not asking for anything from you. I just need you to know that no matter how severe your storm, I promise I won't leave your side, I'll stay with you through the howling winds that whip my cheeks raw and red. I will stay and hold you when the night leaves you shivering and give you space when when your searing heat pushes you into a fiery rage. I will stay and love you in whatever way you crave, whether that be from next to you or from wherever you cast me to."

"Azriel-" tears flowed freely from his eyes and you knew he meant every word he was saying. Every single word was being plucked from the core of his essence.

"I know that you're scared, and that you don't trust me. I'm scared too. But you're the only one I can face love with because I only want to feel it with you. At the end of the day I want it to be you and me, I want your early mornings and late nights, I want you on your good days and bad. I will never stop wanting you. I will never stop needing you filling my lungs like oxygen and giving me life."

Azriel dropped his forehead onto yours, and you felt your own cheeks dampening from your own tears at his words, "I love you, Y/N. I will always love you, even if you don't want me to, even if you decide to walk away from me I will not stop loving you. I am so thankful for you, and I know I haven't shown that, but if you give me one more chance, I will show you exactly the man you have made me into. I will give you the world you have always dreamed of. My soul is yours until you stop loving me. Please. Please."

There was a silence as you contemplated his words, maybe he did mean them, but it still didn't detract from the clear fact that he had knowingly abused your love of him, that he had knowingly taken advantage of you.

"No," Azriel physically winced as you removed yourself from his embrace, his forehead and fingers crying at the loss of your touch, his shadows retracted like they had been burned, withering away before his eyes.

"No?"

"No, Azriel," you wiped your cheeks free of your sadness which had turned into rage, "You can't come here on my hardest of days to confess your love for me after abusing me endlessly, after overlooking me our entire lives for others. I will not be your second, third, or last choice. If I'm not your first choice then I don't want to be a part of it at all. I loved you, Az. I loved you more than my lungs needed air to survive, I would have done anything for you. I did do everything for you. And this is how I'm repaid, by being consciously used to inflate your precious ego?"

"Y/N, no, it wasn't like that," he reached for you and you took a step back, the stars illuminated the sky in their richly elegant glow, and you could feel Selene wrap her heavenly arms around you and tell you to stick it to the man.

"But it was Azriel. It was like that. First it was Mor who you pined after for decades, I could deal with it then, I knew how much you wanted to be loved and cherished, and with Mor, you never came to me and complained, it was like you didn't even want her. But then Elain, you made me so small and insignificant, you had the gall to wish she was me, you knew I loved you and you chose to say that?"

"Y/N, please-"

"Stop fucking talking," you hissed, "I do not live to serve you, the purpose of my life is not to be your maid and mother and nurse so you don't have to lift a finger. I am not your therapist or path to live out your pathetic picket fence dream. I am Y/N, I was your best friend, I would have given you everything and I did even when you gave me nothing and I am done. I am done being the thing you can throw aside and pick up when you want to feel good about yourself. I'm done."

Your body felt ten times lighter, like you had just off loaded all of the rage that had been stacked within your mind and soul directly to the person who deserved to know just how vile they had been to you.

"I never want to talk to you again. I'm not sorry, the only one to blame for everything falling apart is you and your whimsical other-worldly dreams. Grovel your heart out, Az, you're never going to know about my life from here on out. I forbid it."

And then you left, you had left Azriel stood on that rock looking the most broken you had ever seen him, even his shadows had fully retreated into his body, wounded by your words and ashamed of their master. They had just lost their favourite thing in the world.

He had continued to try and get your attention in the weeks that followed, appearing on the streets and trying to speak to you to which you wholly ignored, he had showed up at Rita's and tried corner you, begging you to just listen, but you looked right through him.

Rhys had agreed to give you a different position, one that would mean less opportunity to bump into Azriel. You had become an emissary to the Night Court, Rhys' most trusted one at that, and you travelled Prythian and kept bonds alive and strong between the courts.

The Inner Circle were mostly just polite to Azriel, they respected your decision, some even admired it, and Azriel stood and watched as Elain accepted the bond with Lucien, feeling foolish for ever believing that he was deserving of such a sacred thing.

Every time you had returned home, Azriel would have all manners of gifts delivered, from pastries to fine jewellery and dresses . It had gotten so out of hand that you had to scream into Rhys' mind to get his brother to stop. You had kept your word, you didn't speak to him even when you did see him.

And soon enough he stopped, he didn't linger in the streets or on the bank of the Sidra, his shadows no longer followed you, no more gifts arrived at your home that was bursting with new wonder. Azriel had finally realised that no amount of pleading words or pretty things would bring you back to him. You were gone.

The hope that had filled his heart, that had broken the shadow shrouding his soul, when Rhys had announced that you were joining them for dinner that evening, was enough to bring some happiness to him. Azriel had been a ghost of himself, wallowing in self pity and loathing, completing his missions to a far more gruesome degree before returning home and tending to his own wounds. No one was there to help him anymore.

You were ethereal, you had stepped through the door with a happiness he hadn't seen in your in decades, your skin was glowing and your eyes were bursting with happiness. You were dressed in a ornately stunning forest green dress, one that he had never seen before, and you sat in your usual seat, that one that had laid empty for thirteen months wedged between Feyre and Nesta's chairs, the one they glanced at longingly each day.

Yet again, you avoided Azriel, but not obviously in a sense, you just negated to recognise his presence entirely. The only thing you did recognise were his shadows that pecked your wrists, and he willed you to look at him, instead, you only smiled at the shadows and that was enough to make them feel validated and still loved by you.

Rhys had asked how you'd been and you didn't relent on sharing your tales from your travels across the continent, from the libraries in the Day Court that Helion had given you access to, to learning the healing powers from the top healers in Dawn, you were enriched with knowledge and you were loving every moment.

"I do have some news," you spoke and if Azriel hadn't been listening to your stories, which he certainly was because it made him feel like a part of your life again, he was definitely listening to you now.

Azriel noticed the blush creeping up your cheeks and the bashful look in your eye, he watched your chest rise and fall shakily as you tried to form the words to tell them what you needed to. Azriel knew that look, because that's how you used to look when you were thinking about him.

"I found my mate," you had admitted, and your eyes found him for the first time in over a year, they held sympathy within them, and he felt all of the air rush from his lungs.

Your look only lasted a couple of seconds before Rhys wrapped you up in his arms, laughing joyfully at the news as the rest of the room, even Elain and Lucien, stood to congratulate you, everyone but him.

"Do we know him?" Feyre asked, her blue-grey eyes brimming with happy tears, all they wanted was to you to find your happiness, in whatever way that would be gifted to you.

You nodded, a love-sick smile on your face, "You do, we've already accepted the bond, and I know you may not approve but I need you to, for me? He's coming tonight, I want you all to meet him."

Rhys kissed your forehead and Azriel felt the fire rage within his chest, he'd give anything to have your skin under his lips again, "Of course," the door sounded and Azriel felt as though he was in a fever dream.

You had a mate. His Y/N had found her mate.

You had inhaled deeply and squeezed Feyre's hands in your own before you left the room, the muffled muttering of your voice conversing with your mate sounding to Azriel's left. He knew they were glancing at him, but they didn't say a word, and he didn't meet their gazes, he didn't look up until your scent mixed with another's entered the room. The perfect harmony of lavender and pine, of spiced oranges and honey.

"I believe you all know Eris," he heart dropped to his stomach and Azriel felt the room spin as he looked toward you, toward Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court, who gently laid his hand on your hip and pressed his lips to your temple.

Eris had become an ally after overthrowing Beron, Mor had forgiven him for his past transgressions, Rhys had even considered him a friend. Eris Vanserra was your mate.

The room audibly gasped and rushed to you both, hugging and congratulating you, so unbelievably happy that you had found your person, "The moment I saw her in my court I knew it was her. It snapped for me before she realised it, but I couldn't have anyone else whilst knowing that this beautiful creature was out there fated to be mine," his eyes were full of love, unblemished untainted pure love, and yours twinkled in reply as you unveiled the large sapphire on your ring finger, "Y/N is set to become my High Lady. I promise you all that I will cherish her every moment of every day. I am so irrevocably in love with her and I just know that our souls will find one another in every universe we may wander into. She's my everything and I will always choose her. Always."

Azriel watched you, doing his best to simmer down the fire raging within his heart, he looked at your bright smile and sparkling eyes, he roamed your glowing skin and inhaled your mated scent, and then his gaze fell on the barely there swell of your stomach and he decided in that moment that you were divine and untouchable, and that he would finally let you go if it meant that you'd be happy and breathe the life that you were meant to own.

A life full of the love that no one deserved more than you.

Authors Note

I think I like this version better..

@saltedcoffeescotch @fxckmiup

[stars-on-fabric]

Hot take:

Eris left Mor in the woods because if he helped her, she would be shackled to him, the autumn court and his cruel family, which is no better than her own. He assumed that either she would rather die or someone from the night court would come to save her.

He didn't leave her because he is evil, he saved her from himself.

(maybe he has a little crush on the shadowsinger, but let's be real, who doesn't?)