#hopelessly devoted eris

[prythianpages]

Just A Fool | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | Eris has a meeting with the Night Court's astrologer but when he enters the observatory he finds you instead. He's captivated by you and can't bring himself to understand why...until the bond snaps.

warnings: reader being delulu, mild angst (I think)

word count: 2,667

a/n: Surprise, surprise, I simply can't write one-shots! Though this can be read as a stand alone fic, it is based off of this one and takes place before. Azriel is not in this part himself but he is mentioned. Since this is in Eris's pov, I wrote it it in third person to make it easier.

Eris stepped into the observatory, the door gliding open with a quiet hiss. The room was large and spacious, his boots echoing against the smooth, polished floors.  Despite himself, he begrudgingly admitted that the Night Court’s observatory was a masterpiece. 

A dome of crystalline glass stretched above, revealing all the beauty the Night Court’s sky had to behold. Constellations glimmered and moonlight filtered through the room, casting a silver glow over the telescopes, charts and shelves lined with celestial tomes.

But it wasn’t the architecture that made his breath hitch and muscles tense.

A female sat curled on a velvet loveseat, her knees drawn up, and a journal braced against them as she wrote. Her head was bent in concentration, her hair falling like a curtain of shadow around her face. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and Eris let her ignorance linger. He watched her silently, taking in every detail he could for a moment longer, unaware of the weight of fate looming over his shoulder.

The dark purple dress she wore was simple yet elegant and the opal pendant that hung around her neck twinkled like starlight against her skin. Eris was certain she was not part of Rhysand’s inner circle—he would have known if she were. And to his knowledge, Keir had no other daughter aside from Mor. 

Yet, the ease with which she carried herself in the room, it was as though she belonged there. She must come from a noble family but even then, the question as to why she was here still remained. Especially when he had a meeting with the Night Court’s astrologer. Had this female dared to sneak into the observatory? And how had she not heard his footsteps?

Foolish. Reckless.

And yet, Eris couldn’t deny the curiosity that tugged at him as he took a step closer, something foreign beginning to simmer in his chest.

When the door finally clicked shut, however, she flinched, her head snapping up. Wide eyes locked onto his, and the centuries of practiced composure could not hold him back, his body jerking upright. They stared at one another, the silence between them taut as a bowstring.

Her journal slipped from her lap, landing with a thud as she stood hastily. A flicker of panic crossed her face that was quickly replaced by a guarded expression. It was then that he concluded she had, in fact, dared to sneak in here. 

Eris noted the slight flush on her cheeks and the way her fingers twitched. It was as if she were resisting the urge to snatch up the fallen book in fear of turning her eyes away from him. 

He moved forward, each step deliberate, the measured thud of his boots filling the space between them. His amber eyes roamed her, unhurried. His lips curved faintly, a teasing spark lighting his gaze.

“Well, I was expecting someone much taller, older, and wiser...”

The female stiffened, her gaze darting to the journal on the floor, then back to him. Eris caught the motion.  “What? Cat’s got your tongue?”

Her jaw tightened, but her voice was steady when she finally spoke. “If it is Lord Damus you seek, that is my father. He should be here shortly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right out of your way…”

She stepped toward the journal, her intention clear. But Eris was faster and intent on keeping her with him for longer. A flick of his wrist and the journal flew to his hand, carried by a golden thread of flame. He thumbed the worn cover, glancing down at it with mock intrigue.

“A diary?” he teased, a laugh dancing on his lips as his eyes flicked to hers. “What are you, a child?”

“Give that back,” she snapped, fire sparking in her eyes as she took a step closer.

Eris arched a brow, surprised by the boldness in her tone. The spark in her gaze sent a thrill through him, a pull he couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t one to concern himself with trivialities like this, and yet…

“No,” he replied simply, effortlessly stepping away from her poor attempt to reach him. 

When she tried again, he lifted his hand, a flicker of flames dancing at his fingertips in warning.  “What secrets could a Night Court female like you possibly be hiding in here? Some scandalous account of a rival’s terrible choice in gowns? Or some torrid tale of unrequited love among the court?”

His gaze dropped to the page she had left open. He should’ve let her leave. The meeting with her father was much more important than reading her diary but he was now curious about her. And even more curious to know what she had been so entranced by, enough to have not noticed his entrance.

 Eris’s eyes scanned the elegant script, and his smirk deepened.  “‘I love everything about him. Not in the way of soft, fleeting things, but in the way stars burn eternal. Steady and unwavering.”

He paused to glance at her. Her cheeks were flushed now but her eyes didn’t waver. There was a defiance in her gaze, even as her lips pressed into a tight line.

Eris’s attention returned to the page, a strange tightening in his chest. He hadn’t expected such emotion from her words and though he couldn’t understand why, it seemed to unsettle him.

 “I love the way his eyes, the warmest shade of hazel, hold my heart every time he looks at me, the way his gaze softens. Or the way his shadows linger just a heartbeat longer around me. I wonder if they whisper my name when I’m not near…”

And then he saw it.

A name. Scribbled in a flourish of ink beside what he assumed was hers and framed by a heart. His chest tightened further, this time with something sharper, darker. He knew that name. All too well.

The flame at his fingertips extinguished as his hand fell to his side. He turned to her, his amber eyes blazing, his jaw set.

It should have been trivial. He had hoped for something inconsequential, a petty grievance or a noblewoman’s idle musings. Anything that he could dismiss with a smirk and leave behind without a second thought. Anything–anyone– but him.

Instead, her words tugged at something buried. A tether that always seemed to lead back to that wretched shadowsinger. That damned Illyrian who haunted his thoughts more often than he cared to admit. 

Eris didn’t understand it and was unsure he wanted to. He was unsure if he even wanted to understand the female before him but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from her.

So he allowed his disbelief to take over and settled on what he was familiar with.

“What a pity,” Eris said, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “That someone like you would stoop so low and waste such beautiful words on a bastard like him.”

“You don’t know anything about him,” she replied briskly and then as an afterthought, added, “or me.” 

Eris laughed, the sound sharp and incredulous. “Don’t I?” He said, waving the leather journal tauntingly. The reaction she gave was almost amusing—almost. It wasn’t the insult he’d thrown at her that provoked such defensiveness, but the one aimed at him. Her precious shadowsinger.

“I think I’ve learned plenty. Enough to know you are a delusional fool. Or perhaps…”

He stepped forward leisurely, his hands crossing behind his back, like a predator savoring the chase. For every step he took towards her, she took a step back, her breath catching in her throat. He tilted his head, the amused smirk never leaving his face. He took note of the way she tried to steady her breathing. And though he thought her a fool, at least she wasn’t foolish enough to pretend she didn’t feel it. The power humming in the air around him, coiling like fire beneath his skin.

The floor illuminated beneath her weight as she stepped into the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. Eris continued until he had her trapped, her back pressed against the small table in the center of the room that held up a glowing, golden globe. He was on her then, close enough that the heat of him seemed to reach out and curl around her. 

She stiffened as he leaned in and then, as if it were his right, he reached out and tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her gaze to meet his. His amber eyes swept over her face, mockingly intent.

But when his eyes met hers, the simmering in his chest flared, growing hotter with each passing heartbeat. He brushed it aside, too caught up in the thrill of provoking her to give it any real thought.

“Perhaps, you’re unwell?” he asked, his voice dripping with condescension. “You must’ve taken a fall recently, or been struck on the head as a child? I can’t imagine any other explanation for…” 

His voice had trailed off. Now that he was up close, her scent of night blooming flowers–phlox– and amber teased at his senses. It wanted to wrap around him, lure him in. He released his hold on her, reigning in the flare of heat that surged through him. He masked the effect she had on him with a lazy wave of his hand toward the journal he still held. “…this.”

Her brows furrowed, her glare sharp enough to cut. She snatched her journal back from him with such fury he had to bite back a laugh. “I am perfectly well.”

Eris gave a grimace of resigned disbelief. “Just a fool then.”

“Tell me,” he continued, voice rich with feigned curiosity, “does he truly look your way? Or are you merely another shadow to him? Rumor has it he’s quite taken with a certain lovely, cauldron-turned fae... Oh, forgive me, my lady, did I strike a nerve?”

Her knuckles whitened as she clutched the journal tightly to her chest, shielding it as if it could protect her from the sting of his words. But there was fire in her eyes that only intrigued him further. 

“He’ll soon realize that she’s not the one for him.”

“Will he? And what makes you so certain? Do you think yourself his destiny? If that’s the case, then I have quite the–”

“Crushes come and go but love stays,” she interrupted him, voice firm. She then looked up towards the domed ceiling. Her voice softened, a wistfulness creeping into her words. “And the stars and the planets, they never lie.”

The floor glowed brighter, the engraved markings on the zodiac wheel shifting with a series of clicks. From the center, a galaxy unfurled, its planets and constellations rising and floating into the air. They remained suspended in a tentative dance, awaiting an order.

An inexplicable flutter tore through his chest as he watched her expression ease at the sight above, a tender gleam in her eyes.

“It’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To see where the planets align for you. To discover if the stars favor your path, if there’s any certainty to be found. To gather hope and dare to dream.”

Eris’s smirk faltered for a split second, his amber eyes narrowing. He quickly masked the slight discomfort, his expression returning to one of controlled indifference. “It sounds like you’re stuck in a dream yourself. One that will be harsh to wake up from.”

But his sharp words didn’t land as he expected. She didn’t flinch or glare back at him. Instead, she smiled at him. A smile that was so sure, so knowing. It truly made him question her sanity.

“Azriel may hold affection for her now, but he’ll love me. One day, he’ll see it. Just as clearly as I do.”

Eris could only stare at her. The certainty in her words, the unwavering belief in some twisted fate. It was maddening. She was maddening. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to continue to laugh at her naivety or… believe her.

Because she was right. He had come to Lord Damus for guidance. In a world as precarious as his, he yearned for a semblance of certainty. He wanted to hope, wanted to dream. Something to cling on to, to help him carry the weight of his burdens.

Her words lingered in the air between them, heavy and determined.

And then, as if the universe itself had conspired to provoke him further, it happened.

The world seemed to tilt beneath his feet. The edges of the room blurred, melting into golden and white light.  All he could see was her. The female whose eyes reflected the endless stars above, whose words burned like a flame deep in his chest. 

That simmering sensation in his chest flared again, too scorching to ignore any longer. The fire coursing through his veins roared to life, surging toward her as if recognizing its other half. His other half.

Mate.

The female standing before him, all defying words and starry wit, was his.

And she was in love with someone else.

“Cauldron above,” he cursed, his voice a low murmur. He took a step back, still reeling but forcing his composure to hold.

The sound of the door to the observatory opening snapped him out of his trance. He quickly distanced himself, needing space to regain full control.

“Lord Eris, forgive me if you’ve been waiting–what are you doing here?”

“Oh,” the female–his mate–breathed and he could feel the way her heart quickened. “I was just dusting off the shelves here, father.”

Lord Damus approached a shelf, dragging his finger along the surface. His gaze narrowed, as if sensing dust. The faintest glimmer of energy rippled in the air, imperceptible to most, but Eris saw it settle. It was, after all, his magic.

When Lord Damus raised his finger to inspect it, there was not a speck to be found. A thoughtful hum escaped him, and Eris felt her relax, even if only slightly.

“You may leave now.” Lord Damus said to her, dismissing her as if she were a servant and not his daughter.

“Yes, father.” She politely replied, bowing her head toward him before reluctantly turning to Eris. She hastily did the same, her eyes briefly meeting his once more before she hurried out of the room.

Eris watched her leave, fighting the threat of emotions swirling him. It wasn’t until the door finally clicked shut that he exhaled. As if some weight had been lifted. Though, it didn’t feel any lighter.

“Please, have a seat.” Lord Damus's voice interrupted, pulling Eris from his thoughts.

The Night Court astrologer gestured for Eris to take a seat where she had been previously sitting. But Eris couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t sit there, knowing her scent still lingered.

“Forgive me, Lord Damus, but I need to reschedule.”

“But you’ve come all this way already…,” Lord Damus’s brows furrowed. “Did my daughter say something to you? Allow me to apologize on her behalf. She can be quite unnerving–that one.”

“No, not at all.” Eris lied smoothly. He lifted his hand, and a small note appeared, perched between his fingers. Flames erupted from the edges, quickly eating away at the note until it was reduced to ashes in his palm. “Something has suddenly come up in my court that requires immediate attention.”

Lord Damus considered this, his eyes narrowing as if contemplating the words. Finally, he gave a short nod. “Very well, then. We can reschedule for another time.”

Eris didn’t wait for another word. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. He winnowed directly to his room. Only then did he let his mask slip. Images of her flooded his mind and he braced himself against his bed post with one hand. His other hand clutched at his chest where the emotions were scorching, the fire there forging the threads of fate.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes landing on his own reflection. Eris had called her–his mate–a fool. Yet, as he stood before himself, he realized a bitter truth...

He was the greatest fool of all.

[series masterlist]

A/n: the next part in this au will be some fluff between Az & you 🫶🏽 that takes place after Hopelessly Devoted.

series tag list: @kaitttttttt , @nebarious , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @justyouraveragekleemain , @tothestarsandwhateverend ,

@ratgirl2020 , @myromanempiree , @vanserrasimp , @itsswritten , @acourtofbatboydreams

@imjustagirl713, @paleidiot, @scarsandallaz

if you asked to be put on the tag-list and don't see your username, please remind me!

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

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

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

@alwayshave-faith

[palecryptid]

some sketches of adult eri (i forgot to post) because she’s my new favorite girl

[fieldofdaisiies]

Kinktober Drabble 7 - Azris

request: can you please do Azris and something with fire, fireplay … if you feel comfortable, I bet Eris would be so gentle and careful | masterlist | ao3

“I‘ll be careful,” Eris whispers against the corner of Azriel‘s lips before he straightens up. “I promise.”

The shadowsinger knows this, he knows he can fully trust his mate and yet an enormous amount of gratitude and love fills his chest. His body is tense, stiff, but relaxes with every second that passes. With every second he holds Eris‘ gaze and finds nothing but warmth and admiration in them.

Slowly, Azriel dips his chin to his chest, and smiles. He is ready for what they are going to try. They have been intimate a lot within the past months, the past year, have tried many things, but never something like this. Something including fire. Something that calls for more trust than anything else they have done before.

“I trust you,” the shadowsinger tells Eris, his voice a whisper and yet firm. “I always do. I love you and I want this.”

Eris bows slowly, all of his movements always elegant, High-Lord-like. A small flame, burning in a deep orange with flecks of yellow and red, lights up the tip of his fingers. To his own surprise, Azriel doesn’t flinch, he only watches. Watches how the flame doesn’t burn his mate, doesn’t hurt the person he loves most in this world.

Carefully, Eris lowers his hand to Azriel’s chest, always looking out if the shadowsinger may change his mind, their gazes locked almost the entire time. “I love you, Azriel,” the High Lord whispers and his palm finally touches the spymaster’s chest, hot and soft.

One small flame stays when Eris lifts his hand again, and almost like one of his own shadows, skims across his skin, warm, hot, but not too much. It heats his skin, his blood, but it doesn’t burn him. It doesn’t hurt him.

Just like Eris does. He keeps him warm and safe when he needs it, but would never use his powers to bring hurt upon him.

Azriel‘s abdominal muscles are as hard as rock as he watches the flame dance across it, wonder and a hint of surprise sparkling in his eyes. How is it possible that a flame can‘t hurt him?

As if he can read his mind, Eris says with a smile, “They are as much part of me as your shadows are of you. My flames would never harm what I love most in this world.”

…..harm what I love most in this world. Tears almost immediately spring to Azriel’s eyes and he rapidly wipes at them with his palm, hearing Eris‘ rich and warm laugh in his ears.

“You should have known so by now, my mate,” the High Lord adds in an amused tone and guides his flame to stroke across Azriel’s abdomen. “That I am hopelessly devoted to you, my love. I am yours, utterly and completely. Madly in love with you, your warm heart and witty brain. And your glorious body.” Eris is grinning, his eyes dropping Azriel’s cock and his gaze alone is enough to make him hard.

“You are perfect,” Eris growls and leans in, his hips pushing against Azriel’s hardness. “And fully mine. Mine to love, to pleasure and to devour.”

As Eris’ hand curls around Azriel’s shaft, tender and soft, flames still line the tips of his digits and a stunning, breathtaking grin graces his lips he begins to stroke his mate, and the flames burning like wildfires in his eyes resemble those on his hands.

tags: @azrielsbabyg@lady-riel@moonlightazriel@aayo-whatt (no smut) @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @jules-writes-stories @unanswered-stars @christeareads @mistandmemories @bookishbroadwaybish @c-starstuff-man0 @the-darkestminds @talibunny30 @nestasgoodside @baileybird71

[bisexual-horror-fan]

uhh i think this may have been asked before but do you think you could do anything with the Sinclairs for multi may? they just own my heart, soul, an brain.

Well of course you can have this Anon! Since you didn’t give me a prompt, which is fine, I went with one provided by @early20sfailingplenty, sweet Eri baby gave me the idea of a reader who sees Bo in particular being hurt and just fights back for him. It’s a really good idea! Plus a way to do some angsty, hurt, comfort sort of thing! That is important to me because I love Multi-May and I love showing all sides of polyamory, giving it depth and showing it isn’t just about the fucking. Like this piece, it’s also about killing for the killer, you know?

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.7K. Bo Sinclair And Vincent Sinlair And Lester Sinclair X GN! Reader. Poly!Hinge Sinclairs. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Comfort. Murder. Kidnapping. Stockholm Syndrome. Violence. Blood. Gore. Reader Is Hopelessly Devoted. Crying Reader. Hard Emotions.

—

Yes I Can.

—

You remember the day that you knew you’d do anything for any of them and that day was after you had been in Ambrose for exactly a month, you were sure by that point that you weren't going to die by their hands. 

Maybe that was ignorant, perhaps downright fucking stupid to think that but you did, some deeply held feeling that clings to you, as if it was bone deep and settling into your marrow, you were thoroughly steeped in the belief that you would be okay with them. You were more than okay honestly, you considered Ambrose your home, it was infinitely better than your old one, you were happy here, you felt shockingly free even considering the fact that you literally were not allowed to leave and still live. 

You never entertained the notion of a polyamorous relationship before them, but how were you meant to choose just one? It wasn’t fair, and all of them gave you different things, that was the beauty of the setup, hardwired into the whole very concept of it, trying to get everything out of one relationship and one person is unrealistic, with them you more than had all your needs met. 

Such a shift took more time to establish, Lester was the first and easiest, he really took to how kind you were, wanting to talk with him, spend time with him, genuinely get to know him. Times where you just sat with him and talked meant more than he thinks he could say, the easy physical affection and that you didn’t lean away from him or when he tried to touch him was huge, the fact you initiated contact just as much as he did was everything. 

Vincent came next because you were so into his art and honestly because you poured a ton of effort into cooking, the three of them frequently got so fucking busy that proper cleaning, care and good food fell by the wayside, but now with you here that was a thing of the past. Having actual good meals, not toaster waffles that were burnt on the outside but somehow still frozen on the inside, did wonders not just for his mood but his creative drive and overall well being. The times you would bring a steaming plate to him and tell him to stop working were the highlights of his days.

Bo had not yet been won over. No matter the sweet things you said, the things you did for him, and no not even as enthusiastically you gave into whatever game he wanted to play or offered yourself up, he wasn’t moved. If anything it made you try harder. You had gotten closer with him, sure, in the physical sense and he wasn’t quite as asshole-ish to you overall, which you took as a plus and that you would get him the rest of the way there with time. You weren’t in a rush, you had all the time in the world, didn’t you? 

You cared a ton about all of them and would do just about anything for them, you thought maybe if you proved that one day to all of them you could be a true equal and really earn your place in Ambrose. 

The idea struck you one day when some people rolled through Ambrose, you did as instructed, stayed out of the way. You didn't let yourself be seen and watched what happened, took in the view as the group of people met the fate that you almost had. 

The trio were all totally brutal, but you knew that when they killed your friends who didn’t survive like you had, still seeing it once more, against this group of strangers, fresh in your mind, it makes you scared. Not for your own life! God no, far from it, you were worried for them. Bo and Vincent and Lester were all very capable and had been doing this for a long time without issue, but what if the day comes where they are not so lucky? Everyone has an off day now and again. It was sweet, you were concerned, it was preventive, you took your new life here very seriously and you would make them see it eventually, no matter what, you’d show them. 

You approach Lester to try and make what you had in mind happen. He had just come back from his usual daily work out at the pit, it was afternoon, it was hot as hell but you were downwind and didn’t have to contend with the smell, thank God. You loved Lester but post pit he smelt awful, especially during the summer months. 

“Hiya Les!” You greet enthusiastically and his head jerks up, a smile spreading across his face, he says your name in kind and in greeting before asking, “How ya doin’?”

“Oh just fine, wanted to check in on you.” It was honest, and he said, “Ain’t that sweet of ya?” 

You came over and he pressed a kiss to your cheek that made you smile, “You want some lunch?”

“I’d love some. Back to the house?” He asks and you nod your head, “Mmhm, either way you gotta get washed up first.” 

He holds up his hands, smeared with dirt and God knows what else, “You’re right, s’ prolly best.” 

You start your walk back up to the house, you already made lunch earlier on, and you start the conversation you wanted to have along the way, “So I wanted to ask maybe a small favour.”

“A favour, huh?” He asks but the tone is still light as air and you say, “Yeah, you think that might be okay?”

“Ain’t illegal to ask but doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” He teases and you laugh, “True, alright, so I was thinking the other day and I was wondering if maybe you wouldn’t mind teaching me some uh, self defence skills?”

He laughs, “Self defence skills? What? You don’t trust all a’ us to look after ya?” He asks, his shoulder nudging yours and you roll your eyes in amused exasperation, “No, it’s not that, it’s more the opposite.”

“Tha opposite?” He inquires and you affirm, “Yeah, I wanna do my part, you know? What if some asshole gets the drop on you or Vin or Bo and I’m near enough to do something about it but don’t have the know how. I dunno if I could ever forgive myself.” 

He stops, his hands are on your shoulders, effectively stopping you as well and making you turn to face him, you are both in front of the house at this point as he asks, “Ya wanna protect us?”

You avert your gaze and nod, the admission is small yet heartfelt, “Yeah, I do.”

“So why are you comin’ to me?” He asks and you fire back with a shrug, “Why not?”

“Pffft, Iunno, Bo’s and Vincent are bigger than me, pretty tough an’ strong, going to them makes sense.” You cross your arms and assert, eyes still on the ground, “You make sense too! Especially for what I want-”

“An what do you want?” He asks and you finally meet his gaze again, “Help me with learning some knife skills?”

He laughed, his hand fell away and he turned and started up the steps. You rush after him, confused, “What’s so funny?” 

A look over his shoulder and he sighed, “You. Yer too much.”

“Why? Why am I too much?” You ask as you catch up with him as he opens the screen door, “Cuz you think I’d willingly give ya a knife? If Bo finds out? Shit, taint worth thinkin’ about.” 

“Lesterrrr, c’mon! Why not? I won’t do anything to any of you! I want to help you all!” You argued and you were both striding through the living room now, “An’ how do I know that? Could be all kindsa pretty talk till I hand it over and than whoops I’m stabbed and you run off-”

Your breath catches and you stop. He hears it, the small sniff, he turns in the doorway to the kitchen to see you stopped a few feet away, you say softly and apparently on the verge of tears, “I’d never do that to you. Any of you.” 

He groans, hat off, back of his hand wipes over his forehead and smears more dirt, he replaces it back onto his head and comes forward, “Don’ cry.”

You wipe at your eyes, you know Lester likes it when you cry, just not in this particular context, it wasn’t fun for him and made HIM feel bad more than anything positive. “M’ sorry, I know you don’t li-like when I do, I can’t help it though. I just love you all so much and I’m worried.” 

Your shoulders were still shuddering and he cursed before asking, “I know, I know ya love us. Just…You mean it? You won’t do nothin’ less absolutely necessary?”

A nod as you wipe at your eyes, breathing starting to even out, a deep inhale as you try to compose yourself and he says, “Alright but keep it quiet! I mean it, if Bo finds out he’ll-”

“I won’t say anything! It’ll be our secret, and I won’t do anything unless absolutely necessary.” You plead, repeating his exact words back and he says, “Aight. M’ trustin’ you. Don’ make me regret it.” 

“I won’t! Thank you Les! You won’t!” You throw your arms around him into a big hug and he laughs, “Fine, we can go over some stuff but first, lunch.”

“Yes, lunch.” You agree and soon you are in the kitchen, he washes up and you both eat, conversation on lighter things, and afterwards he did just as he said he would. You go back to his space and he shows you the knives he had countless times before and instructed you how to use them the most effectively.

“Now you can’t stab someone too hard, ya hear? You just gotta put your all into it, an’ go for it. Try for the throat if you can but if not the gut ain’t bad neither, you get it deep enough and reef it up an’ it’ll stop just about anyone.”

You listen with rapt attention, trying to absorb absolutely everything he said and after all that, he gifted you one that you could safely keep on your person at all times. You thanked him and tried not to cry for the second time that afternoon, at least this time the tears that threatened to spill over were happy ones. You told him you were going to treasure it always and assured him, you’d never use it on him or Bo or Vincent. 

“Ya better not, cuz if ya try I might just have to turn it back on you.” He teased but you could hear the edge undercutting it and you nodded, “I’d expect nothing less.” 

That wasn’t all of it, you made sure to watch whenever Vincent used those twin knives, really tried to focus on the brutality he displayed as well as the technique. You just hoped that you would never have to actually put the decently sized folding knife concealed on your person to actual use. 

As the days bled to weeks and turned to months you started to relax, you felt like maybe you were being silly, that your fears were unfounded. People would come to town and they would fall with minimal issue, life kept on going and you thought everything would be just fine as it always had been.

One day some more people came into town and you went about your regular routine, as you always did, made yourself scarce. You knew the safe areas you needed to keep to and where to avoid, during times like this you didn’t do much, hold up in your locked room and usually read a book. It wasn’t unusual to hear some sounds, some screams, some scuffle, it was natural, easy to tune out and you stopped getting so nervous as you used to. 

Tonight was different. It was loud, unbearably loud, more than you had ever heard previously. You did something you shouldn’t have, you peeked out your upstairs room window and gasped at what you saw. Bo, mid-scuffle with some guy and currently taking what looked like a terrible punch to the jaw, made him unbalanced and then, someone else was sneaking up behind him that he was clearly not aware of. You did what you definitely never, ever should do and that was, break one of the biggest rules, you got involved. You busted out of your room, you ran down the hall and the stairs were taken two at a time until you were coming out the front door, knife in hand and it wasn’t until Lester was shaking your shoulders that you came back to yourself. 

“What?” You ask and Lester repeats himself, “I said are you alright? You hurt?” 

You look up at him, brows furrowed and you ask, “Why would I be hurt?” 

“Cuz you’re covered in blood?” He sounded just as confused as you did and that is when you looked down and holy shit, yes you were. It all hit at once, you were sticky, a complete mess, gripping the knife in your hand so hard that your knuckles were aching, you felt sore but overall fine. 

“I guess I am.” You admit still dazed, you are in the kitchen of the house, you don’t know when you got from the outside back into here but you were now and you see Vincent working on patching up a pretty rough looking Bo. You were in a chair and Lester was crouched in front of you, “What happened?”

You think hard, you remember seeing the fight, Bo getting hurt, and someone else about to jump him, you remember running out to him and then the rest comes into focus.

You took out the knife from the waistband of your shorts and you tackled the person who had wrestled Bo’s shotgun from him, driving the knife right under their ribs as you did so. You crashed to the ground, landing on top of them, the force of the action causes the blade to go deeper still, you are pretty sure by the way they wheezed you punctured a lung. Blood pours from around the embedded blade and you sit up quickly, ripping out the knife, your fingers on your opposite are tangled in sweat soaked hair and you slam their head back onto the concrete with a wet sounded crack. 

They weren’t moving any longer. You let them go. You are heaving when you get up and turn to see the other person staring you down, your hands are coated with blood as well as it soaking into your shirt and smearing down your legs. The other person who punched Bo looked terrified and you didn’t waste time, you took them down in a similar fashion, that one ended with you also getting a pretty bad punch but with the other body below you with his throat slashed open. After you were sure neither were getting up you stayed next to Bo and the next thing you really remember is this, now, being in the kitchen with them.

You tell them, “They hurt Bo and I just…Had to do something.”

To say they were all shocked was an understatement. Bo got up, and Lester got out of the way, he was staring you down, a hand on his bandaged ribs and he said, “You were pretty sadistic back there.”

You almost waited for him to scold you, but that didn’t happen, “You really did that for me?”

A nod, nervous as you admit, “Yeah…Told you, I love you, all of you, don’t want anything bad to happen to any of you.”

“Seems you really do belong here. And maybe it’s the delirium talkin’ but, M’ feeling so generous that I won’t even ask where you got the knife.” You feel happy, you smile and ask, “So I did good?”

“Very good. It was stupid as all hell and risky but shit if you didn’t do it well.” That had to be one of the nicest things he has said to you so far. You feel nearly giddy and hold your arms out and ask, “Can I uhm…Have a hug?”  

He laughs, a shake of his head, “Well if you haven’t earned it by doin’ this then you never will.” 

“Not just you but uh…All of you? Please?” 

Vincent saunters up, a sign of, “I think we can manage it.”

Still blood soaked and sweaty, shaking and sore you are wrapped up in three sets of arms and you feel more at home than you ever have. 

[c-e-d-dreamer]

And They Were Roommates, OMG, They Were Roommates: Part Ten

A/N: Welcome back to rom-com shenanigans! I hope you’re ready for more idiots in love ;) This particular flavor features the joys of Karaoke. In case it’s not clear: Mor sings Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood; Feyre sings Hopelessly Devoted; Rhys sings Pony by Ginuwine; Nesta sings No Body, No Crime by Taylor Swift; and Cassian sings You Belong with Me by Taylor Swift. Enjoy! :) 

Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Eris and I broke up.

The words echo in Cassian’s mind, his ears left ringing once they’re spoken into existence. It takes every ounce of willpower within him to keep his face neutral, to hold his reaction within, even as his heart starts to pound between his ribs, even as something that feels suspiciously like hope starts to bloom and threaten to put down roots. He swallows hard, making his way into the living room and sitting down beside Nesta like nothing’s amiss. Like this is just a normal, casual conversation between roommates, and his entire world didn’t just tilt on its axis for a moment.

“What happened?” Cassian dares to ask, plucking the spoon from between Nesta’s fingers and stealing a bite of her ice cream.

Nesta scoffs, snatching the spoon back from him. “Eris is an idiot.”

“You broke up with him because he was being an idiot? That’s harsh, Nes. Even for you.”

Nesta’s grip tightens around the spoon, and she tosses it harshly into the ice cream carton. “Technically, he broke up with me.”

The words give Cassian pause, his head whipping in her direction. “You’re right. He’s definitely an idiot then.”

Nesta lets out a soft sigh, dropping her head to rest against Cassian’s shoulder. Cassian's entire body freezes at the contact. If he thought his heart was pounding before, it’s reached an unnatural rate now. Fire licks down his skin, igniting and flaring out right from that spot. Her hair tickles along his jaw, and Cassian’s head seems to shift of its own accord, his cheek pressing against the crown of her head. He can smell the sweet, flowery scent of her shampoo, and he lets his eyes fall shut, taking it all in.

“He thought that we were too close,” Nesta finally explains. “Can you believe that? Apparently, it made him uncomfortable.”

“Sounds like he was just insecure,” Cassian comments, earning a snort from Nesta in response. “It’s his loss, though. Missing out on you is something I’m sure he’ll regret.”

Silence settles around them, but Cassian doesn’t move. He can still feel the day spent at the beach all over his skin, sand and salt still clinging to his hair, but he can’t bring himself to get up and go shower, can’t bring himself to lose the feeling of Nesta pressed along his side, the feel of her head nestled against his shoulder. He doesn’t even want to speak and potentially shatter this moment all over the floor, wants to hold it close and cherish it for as long as she’ll allow it. Instead, he focuses on every soft inhale and exhale from Nesta, finds himself counting his own breaths to match hers.

“Cassian?” Nesta’s voice breaks the quiet.

Cassian hums quietly in response, letting her know he heard.

“I think you might be my best friend.”

The quiet admission steals the breath straight from Cassian’s lungs. His heart blooms and squeezes at the same time, leaving an ache settled between his ribs that Cassian doesn’t even want to begin to decipher. Slowly, he brings his arm up, curling it around Nesta’s shoulders. He dares to lift his head, turning it enough that he can drop a feather light kiss to her hair.

“You’re mine too, Nes.”

~ * * * ~

Cassian can’t keep the grin off his face as he clambers into his truck and makes his way back home. Pure happiness tugs at his cheeks and makes his chest feel light, and he practically has a skip in his step as he rides the elevator up to floor four. He steps inside to find Nesta standing in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water. Her eyes sweep over him before she raises an eyebrow.

“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Nesta comments, setting her glass down on the kitchen island.

“I got good news,” Cassian explains, kicking off his shoes and stepping over into the kitchen. “You’re looking at the newly promoted Cassian Valdarez.”

“You got a promotion at work?”

“No need to sound so surprised, Nes.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nesta dismisses with a roll of her eyes, but Cassian can see the sincerity swimming amongst the smokey blues, the genuineness of the smile she offers him. “That’s great. You deserve it.”

“Thanks.”

“Should we celebrate?”

Cassian chuckles, leaning against the kitchen island and settling Nesta with a smirk. “Are you offering, sweetheart?”

“It’s short notice, but knowing our family, I doubt they’ll turn down the opportunity to go out.”

“I’ll go change,” Cassian says with a grin, already backing up toward his bedroom. “Should I wear the blue suit? Nothing says celebration like that outfit.”

The unimpressed look that takes over Nesta’s face is absolutely worth the comment. He’s sure the pinched lips and narrowed eyes are meant to kill, but Cassian just laughs, offering Nesta a wink before disappearing into his room. He can hear her talking on the phone as he pulls off his work clothes and tugs on a pair of jeans and a tee, deciding to grab his leather jacket still even with the warm weather outside. He steps out of the bedroom to join Nesta, and then the two of them are off, heading out of the building and walking down the road toward downtown.

Nesta leads the way, and it’s not long before she’s pulling them to a stop in front of the bar. Cassian blinks up at the pink, neon sign stretched over the doors and declaring the bar’s name, the K flickering slightly. Cassian has to press his lips together to keep his smirk at bay, turning his attention to Nesta and quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Really, Nes?”

“Shut up,” Nesta snaps before Cassian can say anything more, already stepping forward to push open the door. “You try finding somewhere with open tables on a Friday night at such short notice.”

Cassian chuckles, but he doesn’t say anything more, following Nesta inside. The loud, thrumming beats of a pop song greets them, along with a high pitched crooning voice singing along slightly out of key. Nesta steps over to the bar’s hostess, speaking with the woman over the music.

“I hear congratulations are in order.”

Cassian turns to find Rhys, Feyre, and Mor stepping inside the bar just behind him, Feyre with her arm looped through Rhys’ and all three of them with wide grins on their faces.

“You all got here quite quickly,” Cassian teases, earning an eye roll from Mor. “Nothing better to do on a Friday night?”

“We want to celebrate you and your promotion,” Rhys explains, clapping Cassian on the shoulder and offering a grin that doesn’t have Cassian fooled for a second.

When Cassian continues to look at them unimpressed, Mor finally flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder and explains, “fine. Nesta promised us all she’d buy the first two rounds of drinks.”

“Really?” Cassian asks, glancing over his shoulder to the woman in question.

As though she can feel his attention on her, Nesta turns her head as well, meeting Cassian’s gaze. The lights in the bar are dimmed, and it has the blues of her eyes looking almost silver, Cassian’s heart stuttering at the sight and leaving him unable to look away. She offers him a small smile, one he knows is only for him, and every other person, every other sound in the bar disappears until it’s just him and Nesta and the breaths between them, the air twisting and skipping in Cassian’s lungs.

“Let’s get drinks!” Mor’s excited cheer breaks through the moment, pulling Cassian back to the present.

She loops her arm through Cassian’s, all but tugging him toward the bar. True to her word, Nesta buys everyone the first round of drinks, and then they head to the table Nesta was able to reserve for them. It’s not long before Azriel is arriving, Elain and Lucien not long behind him. It’s even less time before Mor cashes in on Nesta’s promise for the second round too, declaring they all do shots.

Cassian feels contentedly warm and fuzzy, and it’s only half because of the alcohol he’s consumed. Sitting at this table, surrounded by his friends and family and still glowing in the pride of having gotten a promotion, fills him with a light happiness that’s indescribable. It especially helps that Nesta decided to take the seat beside him. She doesn’t comment on the fact he has his arm thrown casually along the back of her chair as he leans back in his own, and it gives him the perfect vantage point to soak up her laughter as she looks at whatever Elain is showing her on her phone.

“Time for another round, anyone?” Mor asks the table, pointing her finger and giving everyone an expectant look in turn.

“I only promised the first two,” Nesta points out, reaching forward and taking a sip from her wine. “You’re on your own now.”

“Don’t worry,” Mor dismisses with a wave of her hand. “The next round is on Rhysie.”

“What?” Rhys balks, turning in his chair to face Mor properly. “If anyone should be buying the next round, it’s Cassian. He did just get a promotion after all.”

“Exactly,” Cassian agrees, holding his glass up in a mock toast. “I did just get a promotion, so I shouldn’t have to pay for a single drink all night.”

A symphony of groans echoes around the table, but then Azriel is standing up with a quiet promise that he’ll get the next round. The conversation dissolves once again when Azriel steps away, but when he returns with his hands full of glasses, it draws the attention back to him.

“You know, Az. I’m surprised you didn’t bring your mysterious redhead with you tonight,” Mor comments, taking her drink from the man in question and pointedly ignoring the annoyed look on his face.

“Speaking of redheads,” Elain cuts in, seemingly to Azriel’s rescue. “I’m sorry about you and Eris, Nesta.”

“You and Eris broke up?” Feyre asks from the other end of the table.

“It just didn’t work out,” Nesta offers with a casual shrug of her shoulders, but Cassian doesn’t miss the way her fingers tighten just slightly around the stem of her wine glass.

“He wasn’t good enough for Nes anyways,” Cassian jumps in to try and diffuse any building tension. Although the comment earns him a too knowing look from Azriel.

“I’ll drink to that,” Lucien agrees, leaning over Elain and Nesta to clink his glass against Cassian’s.

“That’s your brother,” Elain protests, slapping Lucien playfully in the arm.

“Exactly. I know.”

There are a few chuckles from around the table, but thankfully, any awkwardness is spared when one of the bar workers steps over to their table, asking if anyone wants to put their name down to sing next. Mor is all too happy to oblige. She chugs the last of her drink and practically skips up to the stage set up along the back wall of the bar. She scrolls through the song selection, but it doesn’t take her long to choose one, and soon the familiar sounds of a guitar twang are starting up while their table cheers her on.

“Right now, he’s probably slow dancing with a bleach blonde tramp, and she’s probably getting frisky…” Mor croons into the microphone.

By the time she gets to the chorus of the song, Mor has pulled the microphone from the stand, her hair flying all over the place as she sings her lungs out.

“This feels… personal,” Nesta comments quietly, leaning in so only Cassian hears.

Cassian chuckles into his drink, but he doesn’t disagree. When the song ends, everyone at the table applauds and cheers, Mor giving a flourish of a bow in response. She hops down from the stage, but makes a pit stop at the bar before returning with another round of shots for everyone.

After she downs her shot, Feyre is the next of their group to take to the stage. She seems to already have her song picked out, and soon the gentle, lilting intro to Hopelessly Devoted starts to play. Similar to Mor, she pulls the microphone free from the stand, but Feyre walks down from the stage with it, sauntering over toward their table with her hand outstretched. Rhys takes her hand with ease, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, holding eye contact the entire time.

“I think I’m going to vomit,” Nesta mutters, and Cassian can practically hear the eye roll in her tone.

“Get a room,” Lucien shouts across the table.

The song ends, and Feyre holds the microphone out toward Rhys. The rounds of drinks must truly have hit him because much to Cassian’s surprise, he takes the microphone and makes his way up to the stage to select a song. From the way the corner of Rhys’ mouth twitches up into a smirk, Cassian fears he already knows what’s coming, and when the opening chords of the song start to play, he barely swallows down a groan.

“I’m just a bachelor. I’m looking for a partner,” Rhys sings, mimicking Feyre and stepping down from the stage.

He keeps his steps slow and steady, reaching the table just in time for the chorus. He pulls Feyre’s chair out with his free hand, giving himself enough space to straddle her lap and continue to sing. Feyre laughs as Rhys starts to move his hips, but the rest of the table groans, more calls about getting a room echoing around them.

“Now it’s my turn to vomit,” Cassian leans over to tell Nesta conspiratorially, earning an amused snort from her.

Blissfully, the song comes to an end and Rhys stands back up, holding out the microphone toward the table. “Who’s next?”

“Oh, Nes is going to sing next,” Cassian offers, knocking his shoulder against Nesta’s.

“I absolutely will not,” Nesta shoots back with a glare.

“Come on. This night is meant to be all about me, so you have to.”

“That is not how that works.”

“Do you want me to beg, sweetheart?” Cassian asks, leaning in closer to Nesta with a smirk.

“Fine.”

Nesta stands up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor and almost sending Cassian sprawling when his arm thrown across it goes with the chair. Nesta plucks the microphone from Rhys’ outstretched hand and makes her way toward the stage, her spine straight and chin held high. It takes her a few minutes to find the song she wants, but then the first few notes start to fill the bar. Cassian can’t stop his grin as he recognizes the familiar melody of Taylor Swift, but the smile quickly drops once he fully registers exactly which song Nesta has chosen.

Unlike her predecessors, Nesta remains on the stage while she sings, but she keeps her gaze locked on Cassian the entire time. Cassian can’t look away. He’s entranced watching the way Nesta’s blue eyes spark and flare under the lights shining down on the stage, watching the way her hips sway slightly to the beat, watching the way her lips smirk around the words that she sings. Even as Nesta sings about murdering Este’s husband, even as a voice in the back of Cassian’s mind whispers that maybe this is a sign he should sleep with one eye open, he finds his mouth going dry, his blood heating and thrumming beneath his skin.

“What the fuck did I just witness?” Mor asks when the song ends.

“Yeah, why do I have the feeling I missed something?” Feyre agrees.

“I’ll sing next,” Cassian declares, standing up from his seat before anyone can say anything else.

Cassian makes his way up to the stage, sidling up beside where Nesta still stands. He reaches his hand up for the microphone, his fingers brushing against Nesta’s as he does. For a moment, he swears he can feel Nesta tense beneath his touch, but she yanks her hand back and retreats to their table before he can even turn to look at her.

Cassian clears his throat, hoping to also clear away the fog of alcohol that is quickly taking hold of him. He swipes through the different song options, sorting until he finds the one he’s looking for. He knows it’s probably a bit on the nose, but that last round of shots has already settled heavily in his gut and seems to spur him on.

“You’re on the phone with your boyfriend, he’s upset,” Cassian sings, pointedly ignoring the way Azriel shakes his head and drops it into his hands, keeping his eyes on Nesta instead. “He’s going off about something that you said ‘cause he never gets your humor like I do.”

The drinks continue to flow, and at some point, a very drunk Cassian convinces an even drunker Rhys and a disgruntled Azriel onto the stage to perform a rendition of Single Ladies, dance and all. Too soon, though, the bar is closing and they’re being kicked out.

Cassian tries to blink against the various shapes that all seem to blur together and move under the harsh fluorescent lights that the bar has flipped back on. He tries to keep his feet under him, but it’s easier said than done, and soon he’s swaying right into the chairs of another table as he makes his way toward the bar’s exit.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a messy drunk,” Nesta chastises, her hand gripping into Cassian’s shirt to try and help keep him upright.

“I think you mean a pretty drunk, sweetheart,” Cassian defends, his words sounding slurred even to his own ears.

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she slings Cassian’s arm around her shoulders. “I definitely meant messy, but glad to know you’re still insufferable when you’re drunk too.”

Nesta leads them out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, the rest of their family and friends in various degrees of drunkenness preparing to go their own ways. Lucien has a half asleep Elain tucked against his side, and Feyre, Rhys, and Mor can’t seem to stop drunkenly giggling as they clamber into the backseat of an Uber.  

“Do you need help getting him home?” Azriel’s voice comes from Cassian’s right. He practically jumps in surprise, having not even heard his brother approach.

“It’s only a few blocks,” Nesta dismisses, shifting Cassian’s weight against her. “We’ll be fine.”

With a nod, Azriel offers a final wave before turning and heading out as well, leaving just Cassian and Nesta on the sidewalk outside the bar. Nesta turns and starts to walk toward their apartment building, Cassian stumbling along beside her. Pressed this close against Nesta, Cassian can feel the goosebumps pebbling along her skin beneath where his hand rests, can feel the shiver that overtakes Nesta’s body when his fingers curl there.

“You’re cold,” Cassian exclaims, trying to will his feet to stop walking.

“I’m fine,” Nesta assures him, tugging him further along. “Come on. We’re almost home.”

“No.”

Cassian pulls fully away from Nesta, swaying slightly but luckily staying on his feet. He yanks off his leather jacket, wrangling it enough to drape it over Nesta’s shoulders. She blinks up at him in surprise at the gesture, but slowly her hands come up, fingers curling around the ends and holding it close against her body. Something passes over her face, some emotion that Cassian can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s gone as soon as it appeared, his alcohol-addled mind too sluggish to get a handle on what it means.

They continue on their way, Cassian slinging his arm back around Nesta. He tells himself it’s just to stay steady as they walk, but mostly he’s happy for the excuse to lean against her, to keep her tucked into his side if only for the short walk back to their apartment.

When they make it back to the apartment, Nesta deposits Cassian onto the sofa. He lets out a soft sigh as he sinks back against the cushions, tipping his head back and letting his eyes flutter closed. He can hear some clattering in the kitchen and then the sofa shifts beside him, a cool glass being pressed into his hand.

“Drink,” Nesta demands quietly.

Cassian does as he’s told, taking a few sips. “Thanks for tonight by the way.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You deserved to celebrate your promotion.”

“Yeah, but you planned the whole thing, got everyone together even on such short notice.”

“I told you. You deserved it.”

“I can always count on you, Nes,” Cassian tells her, tipping his head back again but turning it so he can still peer at her. “You know, it’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

Fuck. Cassian did not mean to say that aloud. He’s clearly more drunk than he thought, his tongue a little too loose. Luckily, Nesta seems to pick up on his drunken state too, and she just laughs, like it’s all some joke. If only she knew…

“Oh?” Nesta asks, her tone full of teasing amusement as she curls her feet up under herself. “And what are the other things you love about me?”

Cassian knows he needs to play into the joke, needs to say something witty and funny that will have Nesta rolling her eyes fondly at him, maybe even earn him one of those small smiles that’s just for him.

He knows he shouldn’t say one of the reasons is how beautiful she is, how her hair shines golden in the early morning sun, how her eyes are like an ocean he’d willingly and happily drown himself in. Nor how smart she is, definitely the smartest person he knows or has ever met. Not how her whole face lights up when she talks about something she finds really interesting or that she’s passionate about, how Cassian could sit for hours listening to her talk.

He definitely shouldn’t say it’s how fiercely protective she is of those she cares about, how fiercely she loves her sisters. All her different expressions and poses that he's counted and memorized—the way her nose scrunches when she reads, the way her lips twitch when she’s fondly annoyed, the ‘I will cut you down where you stand’ look when some dickhead tries to talk to her. The way he’s never felt more himself, happier than when he’s by her side.

“What?” Nesta’s quiet voice breaks through his thoughts.

It’s with cold dread that Cassian realizes he spoke all his thoughts aloud. Nesta blinks at him with eyes wide in surprise, a faint dusting of pink creeping up and settling in her cheeks, and Cassian feels like he’s going to be sick. His stomach roils, his heart squeezing tight enough in his chest it hurts to breathe.

“I—” Cassian tries to speak, but no words come out around the lump firmly lodged in his throat. He pushes to his feet abruptly, stumbling around the sofa and down the hallway toward his bedroom.

“Cassian.”

Cassian pointedly ignores Nesta’s call after him, the way he can hear her getting up to follow behind him. Instead, he steps into his room, promptly closing his door and falling back against the wood. He squeezes his eyes shut and prays to the Mother, the Cauldron, and any deity that will listen that this is all just some drunken nightmare, that he didn’t just ruin everything with Nesta.

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog​ @lifeisntafantasy​ @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1​@emeriethevalkyriegirl​ @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld​ @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust​ @a-trifling-matter​ @blueunoias​ @kookskoocie​ @cassiansbigwingspan​ @unlikelypersonalknight1​ @blurredlamplight​

[hopelesslydevotedsuggestions]

eri for the name playlist please?

e- everytime - boy pablo

r- reasons why- levitation room

i- i kissed a girl, and she kissed me- kid bloom 

[freckledoriya]

ok this is straight out of lilo & stitch but Eri having a playdate with the 1A girls and when the reader playfully flirts Izuku, he starts sputtering and glitching and DARTS out of the room. eri sees the reader looking a little dejected and just says “don’t worry, he likes your smile and pretty hair. I know. I read his journal” and all the girls collectively SCREAM

LOL I LOVE THIS AND KNOW EXACTLY THE SCENE YOU’RE REFERENCING 

“Maybe... we could go out sometime,” you say as enticingly as possible. You touch his shoulder, trying to make your intentions clear: you want a date. 

“Uh, I- um, that- erm, would,” Izuku sputters, looking directly at your hand on his shoulder. “S-Sorry I gotta go.”

And with that, Izuku runs out of the room, leaving you hurt and confused. 

You knew you shouldn’t have taken the chance and asked him out. Why would he like someone like you? He clearly doesn’t-

“Don’t worry,” Eri says, looking up from the table where her and some of the 1A girls are drawing pictures. “He likes your smile and pretty hair. I know, I read his journal.” 

“AHHH,” Mina practically screams in exhilaration. 

The rest of the girls start giggling, leaving you wordless and breathless. 

He likes you. 

Not just that, he writes about you in his journal. The boy you’ve found yourself hopelessly devoted to has you on his mind. The thought causes butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but smile. 

“He thinks my hair’s pretty?” you ask, unable to contain the excitement behind the question.

Eri lets out a high-pitched giggle and nods. “And don’t get me started on how much he likes your eyes.”

You think to yourself that you might die right then and there: the pure joy inside of you bubbling over, causing organs to shut down and your heart to give out. It’s almost too much. Almost. You tell yourself that you have to keep it together for a little while longer. You can’t go yet. 

You have a boy to ask out on a date. 

it’s fluff friday!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Writing Excerpt From Today

(Did you know I also write fanfic in Sarah J. Maas’s ACOTAR universe? I am currently working on A Court of Exile and Reclamation, sequel to my previous completed longfic A Court of Lies and Resurrection. This is an excerpt from the chapter I am working on for ACOEAR)

Lucien stared around in surprise as they winnowed not into the Dawn Court itself, but somewhere else entirely.

It wasn’t Day Court, either - some space between places where the world had the hazy, pinkish light of a new sunrise on one side and the bright and shining blue sky of midday on the other, all of it ringed by a line of vibrant green trees that would put the Spring Court to shame.

They walked a path cut through the woods, a path that had no pebbles or sticks or sharp rocks to stumble on, only a perfect line of soft earth that gave, very slightly beneath Lucien’s boots. On either side the underbrush was a riot of wildflowers, morning glories with their petals open to chase the dawn side of the sunlight, small bushes with tiny sprays of white flowers like a dusting of snow.

The trees did not loom or lean over, as they did in certain parts of Spring where the darker things lived. This place was safe, or at least as safe as any fae land could be. Lucien could feel the weight of combined High Lord influences everywhere around him, of Thesan and Helion’s powers intertwined in this place.

This is suspiciously pretty, Ayla sang darkly at his hip. Something’s going to fall on your head, I just know it.

“Hush,” Lucien muttered down to her, then raised his head to look at Helion’s back. “How much further?” He asked, a little uncertainly. There was no way to see - the path twisted and wound through the woods, and while Helion seemed to know exactly where he was going, Lucien had been hopelessly lost within minutes. 

“Not much. Don’t leave the path or it will no longer recognize you,” Helion said cheerfully. “You don’t want that. Trust me. This might look nice but Thesan and I made some… somewhat shady deals with the creatures that own these woods to get their agreement to never touch anyone who doesn’t step off the path. Take three steps and you’re theirs, and they are not the type to kill quickly.”

With a soft happy humming song, Helion held out one finger and a bluebird briefly settled there, then flew away. 

“Wh… what type are they?” Lucien asked, staring in disbelief. 

“The last fae who did not heed my warning took six years to die,” Helion said brightly, picking a thin twiglike branch with a few green leaves off a tree, using magic to twist it into a crown that he put onto his own head.

Told you it was suspicious, Ayla sang at Lucien’s side, low menacing slightly sharp notes in his mind.

“Doesn’t matter, we can take whatever’s out there,” Lucien said softly, pitching his voice as low as he could, although it wasn’t like his sword having a sentience all its own was an unknown quantity to someone like Helion.

Or Prythian in general, since Lucien was fairly sure Lucien Vanserra’s in love with a sword was a common topic of Prythian gossip in every court in the land now.

Damn right we can, my love, Ayla trilled, song brightening immediately, and he felt himself relax at the simple certainty that no matter what happened, she was with him until his death. She’d been bound to him permanently from the moment he first fed her with blood, and had pledged himself when the mortal vengeance god that had somehow birthed Ayla into the worlds had looked him in the eyes.

Will you carry my Ayla forever?

Yes. I have my unsettlingly devoted murder-sword to the end.

The sword sang again in contentment, and he thought she must have felt some hint of his thoughts. He tightened his grip on the hilt and felt the presence that lived eternally in the back of his mind settle into quiet happiness at his touch.

Helion stepped easily ahead of him, with the comfortable leonine confidence that Lucien knew, even if this new version of the High Lord of Day - simply being kind and welcoming and not flirtatious, a Helion that was perhaps, maybe, if he could bring himself to let the knowledge sink in, his father - was nearly unrecognizable to him.

Lucien found himself suddenly so, so glad he had turned down every single offer the High Lord of Day had ever made.

Neither of them had known, then - Lucien looked like his mother, just like Eris did, there was never any good way anyone could have told the difference in parentage between them beyond maybe Lucien’s skin having a darker shade and a difference to the texture of his hair - but still he could feel the flip in his stomach at the idea that he had been fielding propositions from his father this whole time.

He’d been at the mercy of Beron his entire life, and Lucien had been hit by what felt like a wall of realization that he didn’t have to be. All the cruelty, all the anger, all the injuries inflicted on a helpless child had all been unnecessary.

[prythianpages]

hi are we getting more parts to hopelessly devoted? i love lovesick eris sooo much

Hi! Yes, there will be a part two ❤️

But I also want to write a part set before hopelessly devoted that has more Eris & reader interactions. I’m just still trying to figure out if I want him to already be aware of the bond or if that’s where the bond snapped. I also want to write another bit that shows reader’s relationship with Az more closely. That way there’s more context/build up for part 2.

I don’t know which will come first though 🤔

[prythianpages]

Hopelessly Devoted | Masterlist

Eris x Reader x Azriel | A series in which you’re the daughter of the Night Court’s astrologer and convinced yourself Azriel is the one for you. Meanwhile, Eris, your mate, has to suffer through your miscalculations. And things get messy when Azriel begins to reciprocate your feelings…

a/n: I made a masterlist so you can have the fics listed in chronological order!

✨Just A Fool | Eris x Reader | Eris has a meeting with the Night Court's astrologer but when he enters the observatory, he finds you instead. He's captivated by you and can't bring himself to understand why...until the bond snaps.

🪐 Hopelessly Devoted | Eris x Reader x Azriel | You buy an enchanted perfume, hoping to confirm Azriel is the one for you. But when you get no reaction from him, you think you got scammed, not realizing the perfume had captured another’s attention. Eris’s.

🌙 Out of My Head | Azriel x Reader | Azriel takes you to Velaris and something shifts between you two.

🌚 Nowhere to Hide | Eris x Reader | can't put a summary rn as it will give a spoiler

🌝Since You Pushed My Love Aside | Eris x Reader x Azriel

But who will you choose?

Eris or Azriel…or why not both? 👀

a/n: If you asked to be put on the tag-list for part two already, I will be tagging you in the other fics for this au too. If you'd like to be put on the tag list, just let me know (:

[prythianpages]

Out of My Head | Azriel x Reader

Azriel x Reader x Eris | Your father, the Night Court’s astrologer, is called to Velaris and you tag along with the hopes of catching a glimpse of Azriel, the one you’re madly in love with. The opportunity for Azriel to show you around comes up and you take it, unaware that things are about to become messy…

warning: this was meant to be cute & short to show your relationship with Az but it ended up being 5,685 words oops lol, some angst, rhys kinda being an asshole again

a/n: Eris does make an appearance in this if you look closely 🤭 I tried to write this fic off as a stand alone so it's still easy to follow but if you need more context, here is the masterlist.

Meeting Azriel had felt like fate, as if the stars and his shadows themselves had conspired to cross your paths. Becoming his friend had been a choice. But falling in love with him? That was out of your control, like being swept away by a tide you hadn’t noticed rising. 

Now, you were drowning and happy to drown. To let the flood of him consume you entirely. Every time you’d see him, even from afar, it’d fill your chest with a feeling you couldn’t explain, your heart leaping at the mere thought of catching his gaze.

You welcomed the flood of emotions, let it carry you to depths you’d never dared to explore. Your heart was so irrevocably his, you had no desire to find the surface.

So when Rhysand had invited your father to Velaris to discuss his first born’s birth chart, you insisted on coming along. It had taken days of pleading to wear down his resolve, but you had done it. Manifested it, rather, with the help of the moonwater you kept hidden beneath your bed.

Seeing Azriel was not guaranteed, as you were unsure if he’d even be in Velaris. But that wasn’t the only reason you wanted to go. Leaving behind the harshness of the Court of Nightmares, even for a short while, was reward enough. And if fortune smiled upon you, perhaps your father would let you assist with the reading, just this once.

Your father had never quite embraced your desire to follow in his footsteps.  The way he’d look at both you and your brother with that disappointed gleam in his eyes stung. He had always hoped you would stay at home and learn the ways of a “perfect,” traditional Night Court wife, much like your mother. His dreams of a successor rested squarely on your brother’s shoulders, not yours. But much to his dismay and your relief, your brother had chosen to become a warrior in Keir’s army.

Everything you knew of astrology, you’d learned by sneaking into his sessions, stealing glances at his star charts, or losing yourself in the dusty books of the Night Court’s observatory. That cold, stone-walled tower had become your sanctuary—your only glimpse of the night sky.

Though still in the Night Court, the air in Velaris was different. It felt cleaner, lighter. Freer. A wonderful contrast to the oppressive weight of the Court of Nightmares. You took a deep breath, savoring the rare glimpse of the day sky from the High Lord’s impressive townhouse, your father having just winnowed you both.

The sun felt so warm and soothing against your skin. Too caught up in the beauty of the daytime sky, you didn’t notice when your father abruptly stopped. You walked straight into him, sending the heavy box and stack of books in your arms tumbling to the ground.

A hiss of disapproval escaped your father as he turned to scowl at you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, quickly dropping to your knees to gather the scattered items.

“I should’ve left you at home,” he said with an exhausted sigh.

"But who then would assist you in bearing the weight of all these books, given the state of your back? Rest assured, my arms are more than capable,” you said with a huff as you slowly rose back to your feet, arms overwhelmed with the weight of your father’s things. “I shall gladly bear the burden for you, father."

“Clearly.” Your father said dryly, his gaze pointedly lingering on the dented corner of one of the boxes.

You winced at his tone, grateful his back was turned to you again. The door to the High Lord’s and High Lady’s house opened, the former being the one to greet you. Even Rhysand was different here. His violet eyes gleamed warmly, free of the cruelty he wore like armor in the Court of Nightmares. The smile he sent you both softened some of the tension knotting your chest.

 “Damus, Y/n,” he greeted. “I appreciate you both coming all this way.”

Rhysand gestured for you to follow him. This was not your first time in Velaris but it was your first time meeting Rhysand in a private residence of his here. You couldn’t hold back the small gasp that escaped you as you marveled at the beauty around. Paintings, no doubt crafted by the hands of your High Lady, adorned the wall and there was light. So much light and warmth in this house. It truly felt like a home. No stone walls, no darkness, no cold.

There was a flutter in your chest when you felt something cool and velvet-like brush against your legs. You instinctively glanced down, though the books obstructed your view. And when you looked back up, there it was–that giddy leap in your heart.

Azriel immediately rose from the couch he had been seated on, his hazel eyes meeting yours before they dropped to the weight in your arms. With a few swift steps, he was in front of you, plucking the boxes and books from your grip as though they weighed nothing. You exhaled softly, your thanks barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears.

Azriel smiled, shadows curling gently around him as he shifted closer. “I wasn’t sure you’d be coming along today,” he murmured.

“Neither was I,” you admitted, turning your head toward him as you continued to walk. “But I’m glad I did.”

“So am I,” Azriel said.

Your cheeks burned at his words, and you quickly averted your gaze. Azriel was glad you were here. Perhaps, even waiting for you, hoping for you to show up. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Perhaps it was proof of what you’d always suspected—that the bond you felt pulling you toward him wasn’t one-sided. A spark of vindication flared as you imagined Eris sneering at you from some dark corner of your mind. If only he were here to witness this moment. To see just how wrong he’d been.

Azriel did like you and it was only a matter of time before it evolved into something more.

You frowned, shaking the thought away. Why were you even thinking about Eris? And since when did proving anything to him matter?

“Y/n.” Your father’s sharp tone dragged you back to reality. “The books.”

“Oh,” you breathed, glancing at Azriel, who still held them. Before you could speak, your father’s gaze darkened as he realized the task you were supposed to handle had been passed off.

Azriel’s jaw tightened but he said nothing as he handed the books and boxes over.

You moved to follow your father into the study, but he blocked your path, his glare cutting through you. “Stay here and don’t cause trouble,” he said before the door shut with a resounding thud.

You flinched, staring at the closed door. “Sweet Cauldron,” you muttered under your breath, “did Mercury retrograde move into his mood?”

A shadow curled around your wrist, the soft caress of it soothing the sting of your father’s dismissal. The corner of your lips lifted slightly. Azriel had told you once how the shadows came to him during a time of unbearable darkness, offering comfort when nothing else could. They showed him that darkness wasn’t inherently wicked, that it could hold its own kind of solace and strength.

Azriel had also told you that his shadows didn’t approach others. At least not like this, so openly and friendly. To them, you were one of the few exceptions, having met them before you properly acquainted yourself with their master.

You often wondered why. Did they sense the sorrow you tried to bury beneath and conceal? The longing that seeped into your soul–longing not just for their master but for freedom, for a life beyond the suffocating confines of the Court of Nightmares?

Your gaze lifted, finding Azriel’s attention focused on the tendril wrapped around your wrist. His hazel eyes darkened slightly, thoughtful, as if trying to decipher a mystery.

“Well, what am I supposed to do now?”

Azriel blinked, his attention falling back to you, gaze softening. The siphons on his leathers caught the light and your eye. You followed the movement of his arms as he slid his hands into the pocket of his leathers and wondered what they’d look like in casual clothing. And how far did those tattoos stretch, the ones that peeked above his collar and disappeared into those leathers? 

“We could go for a walk?”

Your brows lifted in surprise. “A walk?”

Azriel sauntered closer to you and a tingly sensation bubbled up in your stomach. “It’s a beautiful day outside and I would hate for you to waste it in here.”

“But my father…”

“He doesn’t have to know,” Azriel replied with a small, sly grin that felt almost boyish, his shadows dancing around him. He then gestured toward the door to Rhysand’s study, where some of his shadows had already slithered beneath the gap, lying in wait.  “Your father will be in there for a while. And besides, I did promise you I’d show you around, didn’t I?”

You bit your lip in contemplation, gaze flickering between the door and Azriel. This was what you’d wanted, been hoping for, wasn’t it? A chance to see Azriel, and now here he was, offering you his time. Your heart leaped at the opportunity, already screaming yes.

But your mind wasn’t so easily swayed. What if your father needed you? Wouldn’t this be your perfect chance to prove your worth, to show him how capable you were? Then again, the way he had dismissed you earlier, slamming the door in your face, made it clear he wasn’t expecting or even wanting your help…

“Only if you’d like, of course,” Azriel added, his tone soft. He must’ve sensed your troubled thoughts. “I can always keep you company here instead.”

The flutter in your chest returned with full force. Azriel seemed to really want to spend time with you. Alone. And as much as you admired the beauty of the High Lord’s house, the promise of fresh air, open skies, and Azriel’s company was too tempting to resist.

You found yourself nodding, your heart overriding your head. “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”

**

Velaris continued to take your breath away. 

Children darted between market stalls, their faces alight with pure delight as they chased one another without fear. So incredibly and unbelievably different to the cold silence and rigid rules of propriety in Hewn City. Here, no one glanced over their shoulder with suspicion or hurried along with their head bowed.

The people of Velaris moved freely. Kindness radiated from strangers who greeted one another warmly, who paused to chat in the bustling markets or helped an elder carry their bags. Artists lined the streets, painting the city’s beauty on canvas while musicians filled the air with beautiful melodies.

Azriel led you through the city, showing you as many places he could. He took you to a small bakery first, where he swore the best chocolate croissants were made. Then, to a cafe that sold a variety of appetizing teas. You drank it all in, committing the wonders of Velaris to memory.

As you walked along a bridge, the river’s gentle current caught your eye. It was broad daylight yet, the water glimmered like liquid starlight. You paused, resting against the bridge’s railings. Azriel moved to stand beside you, tucking in his wings so they wouldn’t bump against you. 

You couldn’t help but think how unfair life could be. For a place such as Hewn City to exist at the same time as this one. Both of the same court, yet so divided. And why had you been born in the wrong one? 

Azriel picked up on the way your expression had fallen. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said and at the way Azriel’s eyes watched you closely, you knew he was not convinced. You let out a soft sigh, relenting.  

“It’s just…I thought places like this only existed in my dreams,” you glanced down at your hands. “And now, I just can’t help but dread my attendance at the next Court of Nightmare’s ball even more…when I could be here instead, watching the stars from the City of Starlight itself..free of any worry, any burdens.”

Azriel frowned at the hidden implication of your words.

A dark tendril fluttered toward you, brushing the hair that had fallen back behind your ear. Another softly brushed against your face and wiped a stray tear away. More went to you, wrapping around your hands, seeking to give you comfort and you honestly weren’t sure if it was of their own will or Azriel’s.

Their comfort brought you back to the fateful night you first met them. You’d known of them–of the Night Court’s shadowsinger, at least–long before you actually knew them. The same way you had known Cassian was the Night Court’s leading general and Morrigan, the court overseer.

**

Things had changed after the events under the mountain. High Lord Rhysand had gathered the Court of Nightmares council, a tense meeting filled with bitter accusations thrown across the room. Keir and a few other noble lords, including your father, sat around the table, each one arguing fiercely over who did what under Amarantha’s rule.

As the heated exchange unfolded, your father’s loyalty was questioned, and the words left you unsettled. You had nearly spilled wine over one of the lords in your discomfort, hands trembling as you failed to properly grip the chalice.

But then, a dark shape emerged from the shadows, winding its way around your wrist like a silent guardian. The shadow stayed there, curling around you in such a way that was strangely comforting.

You had snuck glances at the shadowsinger then. 

Azriel stood just behind Rhysand, his face a stoic mask. His attention was elsewhere, either unaware or pretending to be, of the shadow that had strayed from him and wrapped around you.

A break was called. And then, Keir, always the one to provoke, threw an insult at your father. You had no control over your tongue, the words slipping from you without thought. It was in defense of your family but speaking out of turn was a dangerous thing for a female to do. Especially in this court. 

And though you had done it in your father’s defense, he did not return the favor. His face twisted in a mixture of disgust and disapproval, making you feel smaller than you ever had.

Keir’s face reddened with rage and as he glared at you, the shadow around your wrist tightened. Azriel’s eyes flashed, a cold, sharp stare locking onto Keir. It was the closest thing to protection anyone had offered you in this ruthless court. It left you stunned and wide-eyed. 

You had been quickly dismissed by your father then. The weight of your court’s cruelty pressed down on you, suffocating. You fled, finding an empty room, locking yourself away in a cold, lonely corner of the building.

And then the tears came. You didn’t even notice the darkness that had formed around you, so accustomed to the shadows yourself. But this wasn’t the same darkness. This one was… different. Comforting. Protective.

You could only stare at them in awe, one hand reaching upwards to touch the shadows.

But when the door creaked open, your hand fell back to your side. Fear had risen in your throat as your gaze shot to the tall figure in the doorway. You shifted backwards, your back hitting the stone wall behind you, fearing the worst. It was the shadowsinger. And he had come to punish you on behalf of your father.

But he did no such thing.

His eyes swept over the shadows surrounding you—his shadows. The mask of indifference he always wore slipped for just a moment. A faint furrow appeared between his brows, shock flashing in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, sending the shadows a look that had them slithering back to him, albeit reluctantly. “If they’ve scared you. They don’t normally do this…are you alright?”

You blinked the tears from your eyes. “You’re not going to punish me?”

His brow furrowed deeper, confusion crossing his face. “Punish you? For what?”

There was a flicker of recognition in his gaze, followed by a soft exhale. He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. His shadows swirled around him, some curling around his ear, whispering to him. Whatever they whispered to him had his expression softening.

“If anyone needs punishment, it’s Keir. For having the nerve to talk to you like that.”

Azriel took your silence as an invitation. He lowered himself, slowly, attentive to the way your breath hitched. Finding no resistance from you, he flared his wings slightly to allow him to settle on the floor across from you. His boots brushed against your shoes, and he gave a quiet apology. Others had done much worse and yet, no one had ever apologized to you.

“I’m Azriel,” he told you with a small smile, quickly adjusting himself to the cramped space. “You’ve met my shadows. Though I control them, they don’t always listen. Sometimes, they follow their own will. I really hope they didn’t frighten you.”

You were still frozen in disbelief, but in that moment, something inside you shifted. A spark of hope—a spark you hadn’t known existed in the Court of Nightmares, didn’t know could exist.  

“They didn’t. They’re nice,” you admitted quietly, gaze following the movement of his shadows. Your eyes then met Azriel’s, surprised at the warmth you saw in them.

And then slowly, you felt your body relax. “I’m y/n…”

**

A shadow wrapped itself around your wrist, squeezing you gently, pulling you from your thoughts. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same one from that night.

“Sorry,” Azriel murmured sheepishly, the same way he always did when his shadows caught him off guard.  “They really like you.”

The shadow unraveled from your wrist, slowly and reluctantly. It returned to Azriel, the others that had begun to surround you doing the same.

“S’okay,” you shrugged, though a small wave of disappointment settled over you at the thought of his shadows acting on their own will and not his. “I like them too. My little friends, they keep me company during those dreaded court events. Them and Eris, though the latter isn’t exactly one I welcome…”

Azriel’s body tensed at the mention of the Autumn male.

“But it’s strange,” you continued, not sure why you were telling Azriel this. “Despite all the insults he throws my way, he’s somehow kinder than all the other males at court. Maybe Autumn males are–”

“Please, don’t ever pair Eris and the word ‘kind’ in the same sentence,” Azriel interjected, his tone filled with disbelief. “You have to be careful around him, Y/n. I don’t know why he gravitates toward you…” Your heart stuttered in your chest and Azriel's gaze hardened. “But he’s not to be trusted. If he continues to bother you…”

Was that… jealousy? The thought made your pulse quicken, but you kept your expression steady.

“He’s fine,” you said, your voice a little too casual. Azriel went still, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. You felt the heat rise in your neck, and you hastily added, “I mean—it's fine. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to,” Azriel insisted. He turned to face you fully, and your stomach fluttered at the intensity in his gaze. “I can handle him for you.”  

Azriel’s presence alone was enough to make anyone think twice before crossing you. It sure kept Keir from lashing back at you all those years ago and the handsy, sickening males away from you during court events. You knew he would handle Eris without hesitation. So you should’ve said yes, and accepted his offer. 

But, as the words settled on your tongue, you hesitated. You weren’t sure you wanted him to.

However strange and uncomfortable your encounters with Eris often were, there was something intriguing about him. Something that pulled at you despite his sharp words and caustic demeanor. It was almost like a game, a dance of sorts, and you found yourself drawn to it. To him, more than you cared to admit.

A small part of you wanted to continue this twisted back-and-forth with him. He was not a welcome companion but one whose absence would, much to your denial or disbelief, go noticed. The way he challenged you, made your pulse quicken, even when you didn’t want it to. The way his eyes lingered just a little too long, and how he always seemed to know exactly how to get under your skin…

No. You didn’t want Azriel to step in. Not yet. Not while this strange curiosity about Eris still simmered beneath your skin. 

“I can handle it,” you murmured, though the words felt more like a reassurance to yourself than to him. Your gaze trailed after the fae strolling along the river’s edge. Before Azriel could protest, you turned to him with a smile, changing the conversation. “Can we walk along the shore?”

The Sidra river was even lovelier up-close. With the sun beginning to set, the sky blushed in hues of pinks and oranges and you felt as if you were walking through a dream. A dream you didn’t want to wake up from. Azriel walked quietly beside you, the tension from earlier gone.

You breathed in deeply, reveling in the sweet mixture of fresh air and Azriel’s scent. The sound of water rippling against the shore was just as soothing as the early evening breeze. Your gaze fell on a rock ahead, its smooth surface glimmering in the fading light, and you quickly bent down to pick it up. 

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, watching as the stone sparkled like starlight cupped in your hand.

“It’s a rock,” Azriel said drily.

You couldn’t help but grin, lifting the rock to show him. “It’s not just any rock,” you corrected him. “It’s a rock from Velaris. It’ll make a perfect addition to my growing collection of–”

“Rocks,” Azriel finished for you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

He knew about your rock collection. Of course, he knew. How could he not? Azriel had been the one to enable it. It had started as a joke, a silly request from you when he had mentioned visiting Spring. You had asked for a souvenir, half expecting him to politely decline.  

"What could you possibly want from Spring?" he had asked. “A rock?”

And out of all the things you could’ve chosen, you had simply nodded your head. “Sure.”

The way he had returned from his mission, slipping a smooth rock from his leathers and placing it in your hand, had been so unexpected, so sweet. You’d gasped, unsure whether to laugh or cry. He had remembered. 

And when he mentioned going to Winter Court next, you had shyly grinned at him, asking for another “souvenir.” What had started as an innocent collection had become something far more significant to you. Azriel didn’t know but that rock from Spring was the first gift you had ever received in years–decades, almost.

You treasured those silly rocks, keeping them lined up neatly on your dresser. You even painted them with little designs—daisies on the rock from Spring, a tiny shell on the one from Summer, and snowflakes on the one from Winter.

“This may actually finish my collection,” you mused, slipping the rock into the pocket of your skirts, your smile soft.

“I thought I had brought you one already?”

“Must’ve slipped your mind,” you replied with a playful shrug of your shoulders.

Azriel’s expression shifts into one of mock seriousness. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said, bowing his head before his voice turned teasing. “What will I bring you now, then? I’ll be flying out to Dawn next week. You sure you don’t want another rock from there? Or perhaps, this time, a jar of dirt?”

You rolled your eyes, the motion automatic but immediately followed by a sharp pang in your chest as your heart seemed to freeze. A lady, especially one from your court, rolling her eyes at a male? No matter how familiar you could be with a male, a gesture such as this was dangerous and unforgiving.

But Azriel only chuckled, his gaze warm and unbothered. Relief rushed through you, leaving you momentarily breathless, though you tried to play it off with a dry tone. “Ha,” you said, your thoughts already drifting to other possibilities. “But, if you are going to Dawn…”

He tilted his head, eyebrows raising slightly as his lips curved. “Go on.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a feather…”

His dark brows furrowed in confusion, and you felt your heart beat louder in your chest. “A feather?” he repeated.

You shrugged again, trying to look casual about it. “A feather from a swan from Dawn. They’re native to the court and mate for life, you know. Some see them as a symbol for love and fidelity. I’d like a feather so that I can add it to my Aphrodite altar.”

“I see.” Azriel’s gaze had turned thoughtful, clearly processing the information. There was a brief pause, and you held your breath, suddenly aware of how ridiculous your request might sound…

 “Y/n, are you… practicing witchcraft?”

You react almost too quickly, it’s suspicious. 

“No,” you said, shaking your head with a small laugh. Even though you had sought out the help of a witch not too long ago, something you’d probably take to the grave with you, given the failed results. Or the fact that this feather would be an offering given with intent to Aphrodite for luck and blessings in love…

”Well, not exactly, I just–it’s a…”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Azriel mused with a chuckle, saving you from whatever disaster of an excuse you could come up with. The sound of his laughter was like a release, the tension in your shoulders easing. “If it’s a Swan’s feather you want, then I’ll make sure I bring one to you.”

There was something in his tone, the certainty in which he said the words, that had warmth pooling in your stomach. It was the kind of warmth that spread quickly, making your whole body feel lighter and creeping up into your chest. 

You turned to look at him. “Really?”

“Really.”

Your feet faltered as the rush of emotions made you dizzy. You barely noticed the uneven ground beneath you, and before you could regain your balance, you felt yourself tipping forward. Azriel’s hand shot out, gripping your arm and pulling you steady against him.

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his touch, gaze falling to where his hand rested on your arm. Slowly, your gaze trailed upwards. Azriel’s gaze was soft, his eyes searching yours in that way that made your heart race. 

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“Of course.”

You were both so close now, you could feel the heat of his breath. The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. The sound of the river faded, replaced by the pounding of your heart. His free hand brushed against yours, a touch that sent a spark skittering across your skin.

And then, it happened.

A sharp, sudden tightening in your chest.

It wasn’t the pleasant flutter you’d grown accustomed to in Azriel’s presence. No, this was something else entirely. A pull, intense and demanding, like an unseen thread yanking you backward. You gasped, flinching out of Azriel’s grip, who immediately let you go when he felt your resistance.

Your hand flew to your chest. Azriel’s brows furrowed in concern and his shadows stirred anxiously, circling you as if they could shield you from whatever had caused your distress. “Are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know,” you murmured, your fingers pressing against the spot where the ache had settled, desperate to soothe the inexplicable burning. “But I think I’m fine now. ”

You weren’t sure if you were reassuring him or yourself. But you pushed the feeling aside, turning back to Azriel with an uncertain smile.

He took a hesitant step closer, hand hovering over your shoulder. “Are you sure? I can take you to a healer–”

“No,” you immediately shook your head, eyes widening. Calling for a healer meant risking your father finding out you had not heeded to his order of staying put, of you not causing trouble. You’d rather suffer the consequences of whatever sickness had suddenly struck you than be left to deal with your father’s reproach.

“I’m okay. Could we–could we head back now?”

**

Azriel's pov

Worry continued to brew in Azriel’s mind as he watched you settle onto an armchair, hand still rubbing at your chest. His shadows twitched restlessly, curling tighter around him. You had always been easy to read but he found himself struggling to decipher the distant look in your eyes. You hadn’t even looked his way once since he winnowed you both back to the townhouse.

He parted his lips, ready to urge you to see a healer, despite your earlier protest. But a shadow curled itself around his ear and he made himself busy with the book in his hand instead.

The door to Rhysand’s study opened. Azriel’s shadows whispered to him as they noted the way you had stiffened the moment your father stepped out and forced a smile onto your face. He was always unsettled by your father’s indifference to you, his grip on the book he held tightening.

"Let’s go home."

Lord Damus’s voice was detached as he dumped the books in his arm into yours. Azriel noticed immediately that it was a smaller load than what you had arrived with, but that did little to ease him as you winced under the weight.

He moved instinctively to help you, but the harsh stare Rhysand shot at him from across the room made him pause. Azriel blinked, momentarily stunned by the anger that flashed in Rhysand’s eyes.

"Thank you for your time, Lord Damus. I wish you both a safe trip back," Rhysand said, his voice smooth and composed, contrasting the look he had sent Azriel.

Lord Damus bowed in respect and you did the same. Albeit, with a struggle, given all the weight in your arms. Some of Azriel’s shadows darted toward you, hiding within the shadows of the sitting room. They settled underneath the books you carried, helping you silently. And at the way your arms eased, so did Azriel’s.

It was short lived because as soon as you and your father disappeared, Rhysand turned back to him.

“My office. Now.”

Rhysand’s tone left no room for questioning or contemplating. Azriel’s shadows hissed at the sharpness but the shadowsinger yielded to his High Lord’s command. As he entered the office, the faint traces of Feyre and Nyx’s scent lingered in the air, but neither was there now. 

“Did something happen?” Azriel asked, senses on high alert.

Rhysand leaned against the front of his desk, his gaze locking onto Azriel. "I didn’t think I’d have to ask this twice, but... are you out of your mind?"

Azriel’s shadows swirled around him, speaking in tongues. He let out a sound, a mix of disbelief, defensiveness, and the all-too-familiar hint of rage that had been waiting just beneath the surface. Not again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

Rhysand’s humorless chuckle cut through the air. “Oh, trust me, I wish I was.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. 

“I can’t believe you would be so careless as to sneak her out of here when…”

“Her father has no clue,” Azriel shot back, trying to defend the choice, though even he knew it wasn’t enough.

“I bet your scent still lingers on her,” Rhysand snapped. “Do you know how dangerous that could be? For an unwed lady of her status to be caught alone with another male, to smell like another male? It could ruin her. I don’t know what you’re intentions are with her but Y/n is in love with you—”

“I know.” Azriel cut in sharply.

Rhysand’s expression darkened further, his voice hardening into ice. “So you do know. What’s your game here, Az? Because all I can think and worry about is how it will end for her.”

Before Azriel could respond, Rhysand’s voice rang out again, cutting through the growing tension like a blade.

“You will stay away from her.”

The words hit Azriel like a slap, his body going rigid as the words seemed to echo in his mind.  Because this was not his brother talking to him. It was his High Lord. His shadows were seething, reflecting the storm brewing inside. How had it come to this…again? The same damn warning, as though Azriel couldn’t be trusted to make his own decisions. 

First, it was Mor. Then, it was Elain. And now you.

Unbelievable. His lips twisted into a humorless, bitter smile then. “Should I just ask you for a roster of females I’m allowed to be with? It would save us both a lot of time and trouble.”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again.” Rhysand breathed in sharply, barely able to restrain his vexation. “And I pray to the Mother I won’t have to say it for a third time...”

Azriel’s shadows froze mid-whisper. The room grew quiet and unnervingly still. His wings twitched, as if they too, braced themselves. Because he already knew what was coming. 

But knowing didn’t make it any easier.

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall. Heck, I’ll offer to pay for it this time.”

And the words stung just as sharply as they had the first time.

“Just stay away from y/n.”

[series masterlist]

A/n: I had fun writing this <3 and I hope you can understand a bit more of why reader is madly in love with Az. I mean, who isn't? lol But does he like her back or simply like the idea of someone being in love with him for a change…😈

series tag list: @kaitttttttt , @nebarious , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @justyouraveragekleemain , @tothestarsandwhateverend ,

@ratgirl2020 , @myromanempiree , @vanserrasimp , @itsswritten, @acourtofbatboydreams

@imjustagirl713, @paleidiot, @scarsandallaz, @marina468

@utterlyhopeful-fics, @bia-wayne-west

if you asked to be put on the tag-list and don't see your username, please remind me!

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

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

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

@alwayshave-faith

[prythianpages]

Eris showing up in the next part of Hopelessly Devoted to win you over lol

[prythianpages]

Oh that update was so so so so good!!! What’s the next part you’ll be writing?? I’m genuinely so so so hooked. I cannot wait to see how this dynamic unfolds, who will she choose? Will Azriel grow feelings or will it be too late? How will Eris tell reader about the bond??? Can she have them both??👏🏼🧎‍♀️🙏🏼

Love love love! So beautifully written too, thank you for sharing with us 🤍

Eeee thank you! I love seeing your comments/reactions 🥹🫶🏽

The next part will have both Eris & Azriel in it…and a kiss scene (but i won’t say which male yet 🤭) and them being caught. I have a plan for the next part but I’m a little indecisive as to how I want them to unfold.

I can say that though Az likes her, he is a little confused as to whether he likes likes her. It’s why Rhys is upset because he doesn’t like Az being with her if he doesn’t have the right intentions (like to properly court and consider marriage.) Meanwhile, Eris is going through it with the bond 😩

[prythianpages]

Girl, how’s Hopelessly Devoted coming along? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this fic since you posted it…I AM OBSESSED. Love love love 🤍

I feel bad because I haven’t had too much time to actually write 😭 All I’ve done so far is add dialogue/ideas to the drafts. I keep getting new ideas and I’m trying to organize them to see if they make sense together…it’s just the possibilities for this fic seem endless, which is a good thing but also bad bc I am an indecisive person 😭

[prythianpages]

I'd like to see Az say f*ck you to Rhys and walk off into the sunset with Eris and Reader 😂🙏

Rhys mood board when he sees it happen:

Please, he’d be so shocked 😂 but I would love this for Az!

[prythianpages]

How is hopelessly devoted coming along? I really cannot wait for the next part!! 🤍

bestie, I’m afraid I haven’t gotten much farther than what I’ve shared so far 😭 I’m hoping I can get most of the next part written tomorrow and aim to post Friday 🤞🏽