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steveslevis · 5 months

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i love you, it’s ruining my life

azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 1 of 3

summary: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be your brother’s best friend’s mate, especially when that best friend is the same male who’s acted like you don’t exist for the last two centuries.

warnings: angst, very brief mentions of violence and abuse, azriel is oblivious and reader is angry, not much pining in this part mainly just angsty

A single band of golden thread, stretched from your soul, reaching out into an abyss. There was seemingly no end to the thread, no definite stop, just a shadowy mess that sent the thread into a disarray as it reached for your mate.

Your mate. The male who had spoken maybe a full sentence to you a handful of times in the last few centuries. The male who was best friends with your brother, and acted as if you didn’t even exist.

Even in your younger years in Windhaven, it seemed Azriel didn’t even know you were there. Like you were a ghost, invisible to him in every sense of the word.

Azriel didn’t ever really speak to anyone, though, so it wasn’t like you were an exception, he treated you like most everyone else. But you never had been able to shake the fact that he would nearly sprint out of a room if you were the only one in it, or that he would refuse to look you in the eyes when you spoke at dinner. It was like he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same vicinity of you, like he couldn’t stomach talking to you.

And you were now bound to him, for the rest of eternity.

The bond had snapped for you immediately upon seeing the state of Azriel when they returned from Hybern without Feyre, when the entirety of their plan had gone up in flames, with Azriel in the main path of destruction.

Seeing him in so much pain tugged at your heart, nearly ripping it out of your chest when you saw how ruined his wings were. It affected you so much that you ran out of the room when they first arrived, partially because of how much it hurt you to see him like that, and partially because of how distraught the bond snapping into place had immediately made you feel. You couldn’t bear to see your mate in so much pain, and you knew you didn’t trust yourself to be around when they inevitably put him into more pain while healing him.

You kept to yourself for weeks after their arrival, only speaking to Rhysand and your brother when need be.

Rhys was the first one to find out about your dilemma.

He called you into his study weeks later to talk about a mission, one he needed you specifically on for your daemati skills. While he explained the details, he could tell your mind was elsewhere, so much so that you couldn’t even stop him from getting past the pure obsidian wall you’d built up in your mind, the wall you never let anyone break down until that moment.

Rhysand had given you a hesitant look when he stopped explaining the tasks in order to peer into your mind and capture your attention. He didn’t want to pry, only to get your mind focused by scaling his talon down the obsidian wall, which to his surprise collapsed before he could even attempt to breach it. But you nodded when he silently asked to see what had been keeping you so on edge, what had stopped you from helping Madja out with taking care of Azriel when they returned from Hybern, what had stopped you from engaging in conversation at dinner as of late.

A vision of a golden thread shrouded in black and gray shadows was sent to Rhys’ mind, along with a memory of exactly the moment you had been struck with the bond.

“Have you told him?” he implored, though he seemed to already know the answer.

You couldn’t even speak at that point, only shaking your head in response as tears brimmed your eyes when you thought of how fucked up it was to be bonded to someone who’d barely acknowledged you in the hundreds of years you’d known him.

Rhys gave you a sympathetic look then, knowing the feeling of an unrequited bond all too well.

You promised him about a thousand times that you wouldn’t let him find out, that you wouldn’t let the agony and sadness get in the way of the mission. You could prove yourself worthy and able to go on without thinking about how you might never get an accepted bond, you assured him that you could. He was still unsure when he agreed to let you go on the mission, but it was miniscule enough that any lapses in judgment wouldn’t be detrimental, so he agreed.

And you proved yourself, just like you said you would. You proved yourself over and over again with Rhysand’s missions, building up your mental shields stronger than they ever had been before. So strong, that the High Lord himself had a hard time cracking through them.

You became a shell of what you were before seeing your mate in that near-death state, but you didn’t care. You needed to distract yourself in any way, shape or form that you could in order to forget about him, to forget that he’d never even taken a second glance in your direction.

It got to the point where you became so shut off from reality that even Cassian, your brother known for paying no mind to female emotions, started to notice.

You caught Cassian giving you inquisitive stares a handful of times during training and at dinners when your attitude was exceptionally reserved and demure, but never thought he would actually say anything to you.

That was until he finally snapped, on the first dinner with Feyre back in Velaris, which just so happened to be the first dinner that Azriel joined in the weeks after Hybern.

You nearly fell out of your seat when you saw him in all his glory. There he was, standing at the end of the table, as beautiful as ever. He was almost fully healed, aside from a few scars littered over the membrane of his wings.

Excited chatter filled the room as he entered, everyone falling into their rightful place in the Inner Circle, along with the newest members, Nesta and Elain. Though you were one of the longest standing members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, you felt the most out of place in that moment.

The wine you’d been sipping churned in your stomach as you eyed the shadowsinger, who was sitting quietly across the table from you. You couldn’t handle it, knowing that he was your mate and he had no clue. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him finding out, of him potentially rejecting the bond.

After a moment of silently wallowing in your self pity, you felt that familiar talon scrape along your mental shield. Rhys was requesting access to your mind, likely to give you some insight about this unrequited feeling based on his own experience.

You rejected his request instead of letting him in, shooting him a quick glance before standing up abruptly, quietly excusing yourself with the reasoning that you weren’t feeling well.

You rushed up the stairs, toward your bedroom all the while feeling like you were drowning. You needed air, fresh air, now. It was in that moment that you thanked the Cauldron for Rhysand putting you in the bedroom with a large balcony, one perfect for moments like this.

Little did you know, your brother had stalked up the stairs behind you, worried after seeing the panic-stricken look on your face before bolting from the room.

You didn’t bother to close your bedroom door behind you, leaving Cassian the perfect opportunity to come in to check on you. You were out on the balcony in an instant, nearly gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit your face.

“Hey,” Cassian called behind you, standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom. “You alright?”

“I don’t want to talk right now, Cass.” you retort quickly, shooting a glare in his direction before leaning over the metal railing as he furrows his brow. “I obviously don’t feel great at the moment.”

“Yeah, no shit. But that doesn’t warrant you snapping at me when all I’m doing is coming to check on you,” he presses, taking a step onto the balcony to stand by you. “It doesn’t warrant you ignoring me for fucking weeks now.”

“What do you want me to say, Cassian?” you snap, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I—I don’t really know what kind of explanation you need from me, I just haven’t been in a talking mood these last few weeks.”

“Oh, bullshit.” he says, shaking his head at you. “I see you chatting with Rhys and Mor all the fucking time. You’re only shutting me out. What the fuck did I do?”

You take a moment to look up at your brother, finally seeing the hurt sketched across his features as he pleads with you, trying desperately to get through to you.

“You didn’t do anything.” you sigh, letting your guard down as you realize how much you’d hurt your twin in the last few weeks. “I—I just am going through some shit right now.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” he says, nudging your arm with his elbow as a relieved but hesitant smile passes over his face. “I’m always here to lend an ear.”

“Are you sure?” you say, voice cracking as you internally accept that you’re about to change everything in Cassian’s life with four simple words.

“Positive.” Cassian says, smile still on his face as he grips your shoulder to reassure you.

“Azriel is my mate.” you say bluntly, watching in silent terror as your brother’s face falls and so does his hand from your shoulder. “And he has no idea.”

——————————————————————

That was almost two years ago.

Cassian took the news quite well, and became your biggest supporter when it came to dealing with the hardships of an unrequited mating bond. Even as he dealt with his own unrequited bond for a short amount of time, he still made sure to make it known that he still cared for and understood the pain you were going through.

And now that the war against Hybern had been won, you could focus all your energy into training and missions Rhys would send you on.

Rhysand knew you preferred to be sent on solo missions, that you worked better alone without anyone disrupting your focus. But, there were some missions that couldn’t be done alone.

“You–This is a joke, right?” you say with a laugh, narrowing your eyes at the High Lord who sat across the desk in his office, raising his eyebrow at you as you laugh. “I work alone, Rhys.”

“I know you work best alone, but sometimes I can’t send you alone,” Rhys starts, giving you a sharp glare as you start to stand from your chair, “I can’t send you alone, not on this one.”

“Why?” you pressed, pushing off the arms of your chair to move closer to the desk. “You haven’t even told me what I’m doing or where I’ll be going yet, so why should I even agree to it without knowing?”

The look the High Lord was giving you made you uneasy, turning your stomach in knots, but you persisted. You needed him to stop treating you like you were made of glass, like you would break, like you hadn’t been training with Cassian since you could stand.

“I’m not a child anymore, Rhys.” you snapped, hands balling into fists as they pressed against the oak of his large desk. “I can handle whatever it is, without Azriel babysitting me.”

“I really don’t know–”

“Are you trying to torture me?” you interject, a pained expression crossing over your face, one of betrayal at the feeling of one of your longest friends trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position when he knows exactly what you’ve been dealing with over the last two years. “Are you trying to make me suffer, do you want me to –”

“I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys finally commanded, voice wavering slightly as he brought up the place you once called home, the place he knew would send you regressing into a lesser version of yourself. “I need you to go there, with Azriel.”

The mention of Windhaven sent a shiver down your spine, wings twitching in fear as you thought about the horrors you endured in your final years at the camp. Your sharp gaze flickered for a split second, mind running back to that cabin, to the flash of wings and clawing hands, to the male who did irreparable damage to your soul, to the moment you swore you’d never let a male hurt you again. With a shake of your head, you block the thoughts out, pressing that black obsidian wall back up to prevent yourself from breaking.

“I’ll be fine on my own.” you say, putting your stern persona back into place, trying to make it seem as though you’re unbothered.

“I need to send him with you, someone needs to watch your back.” he insists while shaking his head as his gaze softens, trying to get you to break from your hardened facade.

“What about Cass?” you retort, shaking your head.

“He’ll be in Spring, he’s got business with Tamlin and Eris to attend to for me.” he quickly replies, shaking his own head. “Please, I need you to do this.”

“I–I can’t.”

“Is the thought of being alone with me for two days that bad?” a voice comes from behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

Your mate, just the person you didn’t want to see right now.

You whip around quickly at the sound of his voice, brow furrowed as you see him standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to sigh at the sight of him, at how damn good he looked, just standing there. You cursed yourself internally, wishing you could think about anything else besides how much you pined for him. Still, you had an image to uphold, an image of distaste for the beautiful shadowsinger standing in front of you.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, shadowsinger.” you snap, shooting a glare in his direction that sends a pang of guilt running down the one-sided bond.

“I’m sorry?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his face the poster child for cool composure as your rage boils in front of him.

“You can barely stand to be in the same room for me for more than five minutes,” you state, crossing your arms matter-of-factly. “You quite literally leave any space in the house when I’m the only other person around.”

The thought of your mate, the one who was supposed to be at your side for all of eternity, leaving the room any time you entered made your blood boil and chest ache. You ached for him, you ached to feel his touch, to be loved by him. But he didn’t care about you, didn’t care if you lived or died.

Seeing the anger in your eyes made Azriel stop in his tracks, something unfamiliar tugging at his heart as you seethed. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he thought about the last five hundred years, how he never paid you any mind.

The truth was, he avoided you with every bit of willpower he had in order to restrain himself. He couldn’t be around you for more than a few moments without your overpowering scent filling his nose feeding his desire to tear you apart. Every time he was with you alone, he wanted to tear down any walls that he had and just have at you, to have you as his. He wanted you carnally, he wanted all of you, all of the time.

But that wasn’t the kind of male he was. He would never do such a thing to Cassian, his best friend. He couldn’t let himself have you just to fulfill his deepest desires, you deserved so much more than to be some one night fling. You deserved to be loved and cared for, to be protected at all costs.

So he had ignored you, for almost five fucking centuries, because he thought he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He pushed out any thought he had about you, pushed away the urge to pursue you in any way, and pushed you away in the process. He knew you well from watching from afar, but to you it seemed as though you were the last thought in his mind, when in reality, you were the only thought in his mind at all times.

“That’s not–” Azriel started, but the words fell on his lips as he watched your own pull into a frown, an expression that was much more broken than the anger that had crossed over your face when he snuck in.

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought, you prick.” you said weakly, finally letting your emotions get the better of you. As tears pricked your eyes, you turned to Rhys once more. “I will not be going anywhere with him. I will be going by myself, or not at all. I am strong enough to do this on my own and I’m tired of being treated like a child in this court.”

Rhys only stared at you as you stalked towards the desk once again, watching as your hands shook with pain. He showed no change in emotion as you spoke, fully in High Lord mode instead of the Rhysand you knew and loved.

“I will be in my room, packing. When you’re done being a stubborn male and realize that I can do whatever the hell it is you need me to do, I’ll be waiting for further instructions.” you state, trying to choke back the tears that are threatening to flow onto the wood in front of your hands.

The High Lord nods firmly in response, and you turn on your heels. Azriel is still standing in the doorway, but you don’t dare to look at him. You push past the shadowsinger, swiping your cheeks hastily as tears fall down them. As you pass, your wing brushes his in the lightest of touches. You swallow a gasp as they touch, a shockwave flowing through your wing and going straight to your heart.

Azriel turns to gaze at you with wide eyes and you immediately know he felt it too. He felt the shock, the electricity between your wings, but not in the way you did. Not down the one-sided, golden bond that stretched toward him.

Confusion spread over his face as he looked at you, but you turned away and rushed towards your room before he could fully process what happened.

The rest of your afternoon was spent alone in your room, laying on your bed for most of the night as you stared up at the ceiling. You cursed yourself internally over and over again, wishing there were some way to change everything, some way to make you forget that you even had a mate.

Over and over again, you told yourself how you weren’t worthy of the immeasurable love that came with a mate, how you would never be good enough for Azriel.

It had always been like that for you, though. The feeling of inadequacy was a daily occurrence for you, it wasn’t a secret. Cassian knew it, and so did Rhysand, so you’re sure Azriel did too. You worked day in and day out trying to prove that you were worthy to your brother and the High Lord and everyone around you, regardless of the pain you put yourself in.

Rhysand knew you too well, and knew that you were all too serious about going on the mission by yourself, or at least without Azriel. After you left his office, he’d tried to speak to Cassian about accompanying you, but it was of no use, he was preoccupied. He didn’t want you to go by yourself, he knew you’d be scared just by being in Windhaven again, but he also knew that you being the one to go on this mission was the only hope.

Your untraceable daemati skills were an impeccable weapon that couldn’t be replaced by Azriel’s shadows or Cassian’s brute force. Even the High Lord himself didn’t have daemati powers as stealthful as yours, so you were the best option when it came to figuring out who was trying to rebel.

After much contemplation, Rhys eventually sent a concise and firm message to your mind.

I need you in Windhaven by dinner tonight, Devlon will be expecting you to be there. There are a few Illyrians that I need you to check in on while you’re there, Cass told me there are talks of rebellion led by Cormac and Bavlard. he explained, you should only need to be there for tonight to gather enough information, but plan to stay until tomorrow evening in case we need more intel. You’ll stay in the cabin as usual, I’ll be in contact regularly to check on you, since you’ll be on your own this time.

The last sentence had a smile flickering on your lips, happy that Rhysand was finally taking you seriously as a member of his Inner Circle and trusting you enough to send you on missions by yourself. Luckily, you were already packed so it didn’t take much for you to get ready to go.

In less than an hour, you were dressed in your fighting leathers and on the balcony of your room. You waste no time in flying from the house, large wings spreading for the first time in what feels like forever as you make for the sky.

The breeze against your skin makes you sigh with joy, trying to enjoy the twinge of happiness that flying gives you as you make your way towards the place you once called home, the place you now call hell.

taglist: @paleidiot @tothestarsandwhateverend @impossibelle

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel angst #azriel x you

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gremlingottoosilly · 10 months

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More on the poor girl who’s 141’s chewtoy?

She has the worst fate!! Being a pet wife/incubator for one monster is bad enough, but it can be manageable if your new owner isn't an asshole and doesn't treat you like a lifeless object. It's a rare case, sure, but even Konig is somewhat softer after you get his eggs, the mating instincts in monsters are all kicking in. The 141 however...I love to see them as a pack of different breed shifters, maybe were-creatures like bears, wolves, and various birds...they all have this semi-animalistic mentality, they formed a pack bond that is stronger than any blood relations. They are more than family and it's only natural that they share the same darling, yes? Unfortunately for you, it is only natural for them, and you're soon getting dragged from the human pet shop by an excited overgrown werewolf with a dumb mohawk that chirps about getting such a pretty girl for his team!! You are never alone - every time other team members are on a mission, the other ones take care of you, always keeping watch over your silly escape attempts like humans have any future in the monster world now( Gaz is usually the one who is softer with you, his nature as a werebird is making him somewhat more caring, he will drag you a lot of shiny gifts and flashy clothes because he is pretty and he wants his girl to be pretty! Soap is usually the one to always fuck you, unfortunately. Being a classic werewolf, he is too fucking horny for his own good, always stuck in a knot with you, always mating and hoping that you will give birth to healthy pups, even though he is somewhat sad they are mostly taken away for the training needs( his pack mentality is strong, so if you really really really want at least some of your children to stay with you, you should beg Soap to allow you to see them occasionally - he would gladly steal the pups back to base, but it would mean you won't give him as much attention(

@ceilidho mostly inspired me for this, but werebear!Price is literally perfect and I won't stand for otherwise. He is big, burly, with a soft tummy and warm hands that would easily push you down, ass up in the air because you were a naughty little incubator and whined too much about Soap and Gaz being too rough( he knows your limits, and also knows that they are spoiling you too much! You need some discipline and your bear captain is gladly providing you with spanks that make your ass raw, with his teeth and a dick that takes away your ability to walk at least for a few days( he is older than every other member of the pack, and he won't really bother you too much with sex - he knows you're tired, especially if you're pregnant, and he enjoys slow cockwarming sessions and just laying in the nest with you, false hybernating on your swollen, milk-filled breasts.

Ghost is...complicated. You don't even know what type of shifter he is at first, he is too fucking secretive to even talk about it. Only after a few involuntary breakdowns, could you catch a glimpse of his shadowy form - whatever animal-type monster he was, staid in the past. He is all shadows now, dark and glossy with smoke tendrils that help him handle you in place every time you become too squirmy. You were so convinced Simon hated you at first, just a dumb human who disrupts the balance of their pack, but your fears were proven wrong once you were pressed against a wall, thick dark tendrils squeezing in and out of your pussy. Ghost is the only one who can't breed you, and it only makes him more protective whenever you're pregnant.

#cod #cod x reader #yandere cod #yandere soap #yandere price #yandere ghost #yandere gaz #tw: monster fucking #monster!141 #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader

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coppernuggets · 3 months

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DRINKS ARE READY @weedy-boi

i will now hybernate like a grizzly bear

#nuggetsys #artists on tumblr #art #caviar cookie #mermaid cookies #cookie run kingdom #white pearl crk #white pearl cookie #black pearl crk #black pearl cookie #tearcrown #salty shark #captain caviar crk #captain caviar cookie #black caviar #genuinely whats their ship name

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utterlyotterlyx · 7 months

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My Tears Are Becoming a Sea

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Azriel wished that you’d wake up in time for Starfall, that you’d be home to see the souls cross the sky. The war against Hybern had wrecked you, and he couldn’t bear to be away from you for another moment.

Warnings - angst, sad boy Azriel, mentions of death and blood, some self loathing, but a beautiful happy ending for our Shadowsinger 🤍

They'd won.

But none of it meant anything if you weren't there with them.

Hybern had been defeated, they had won the impossible battle thanks to you, thanks to your skill, your power, and that shattering determination to find the upper hand your family so desperately needed.

You had disappeared without a word just after the High Lords meeting, after realising that the forces you needed lay beyond the capabilities of armies and blind hope. Azriel knew better than to stop you, he traced the line of your jaw as he kissed you for what could have been the last time. He savoured the taste of your lips, your scent, that smile that had the power to command the attention of anyone or anything.

There were no words that any of them could say the moment they saw you on the battlefield, you stood above them clad in your leathers wearing a sadistic grin as Bryaxis and the Weaver stalked from behind you whilst they all waited to meet their fate.

Azriel puffed his chest out with pride, glancing to Cassian with a smirk. That's my girl.

You were a formidable force, bending the elements around you like it was your mother tongue, sending spears of fire and ice through the chests of whoever opposed you, allowing the ground to swallow whole groups of soldiers as you passed by. Your sword was an extension of your soul, a cunningly beautiful thing, curved and sharp, and coated in the blood of your enemies which had also splashed across your cheeks.

His shadows were in awe of you, a horribly fierce awe as they watched you cut down man after man, paying little mind to anything else other than making sure that Feyre and Amren reached the cauldron.

That wretched thing.

The cauldron had broken. Feyre needed to put it back together. Feyre needed the power to put it back together.

Azriel watched as you tackled Rhys to the ground, as you threw up a shield around yourself and Feyre so that she had no choice but to use you. To take everything you had to stop the world from crumbling into dust.

Feyre had wept and screamed as she held you in her arms, her fingers pushing the hair from your face as she rocked back and forth, begging your soul to return to your body. Azriel fell to your side and pulled you from Feyre's gasp, his shadows flittered anxiously over your face and body whilst their master pressed his lips to your eyes, pleading the High Lords around him to do what they did for Feyre, to bring you back to him.

Each High Lord offered a kernel of their power, even Feyre had thrown in her own in hope it would made a difference.

Rhys had held him tightly as your soul returned to your body, his sobs wracked his chest when your own began to rise and fall in a healthy rhythm. You didn't wake though.

After days of Madja fussing over you, she had exhausted all of her options. You were warm, your heartbeat was strong and your lungs were functioning as they should be, there was no reason why you shouldn't have been awake and telling Azriel how much you loved him.

He had refused to leave you, his shadows less willing to do so, they loved you so dearly to the point you often found a couple of rogue shadows perching on your own shoulder instead of your mates. Deep circles clung to his hazel eyes that were dark and dreary, he hadn't eaten, he just sat beside your cot and held your hand, noting how peaceful you looked in your eternal slumber.

Much to his rage, it had been decided that Helion would transport you to the Day Court with the promise that his army of healers and researchers would find a way to bring you back. Rhys had agreed, willing to try anything to bring you back to your family, and had to order Azriel to stay away from you whilst Helion gave it his best shot. They couldn't have a grief stricken Illyrian forbidding anyone to touch you.

Velaris felt empty without you. The bakeries were far too full and the children too quiet. The Sidra begged for your fingers to run through her ripples, to caress her with that power that complimented her own so perfectly.

The world just felt darker without you annoying them, prodding Cassian with stupid jokes or dragging Mor dress shopping, even Amren was missing your feet propped on her lap whilst she tried to research, and Nesta yearned for your intelligent observations on the plot holes and desires for the books you shared.

Feyre had become a shell, busying herself with preparations for Starfall so that she would forget how guilty she felt for a moment.

Starfall was your favourite thing in the world, nothing bar Azriel could bring so much joy to you. The music, beautiful outfits and food were just minor aspects in comparison to the main event, when those stars would hurtle across the sky and illuminate it with that hot white glow.

Azriel had always found himself stood behind you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist and chin resting atop your head as you both watched in awe. It never ceased to amaze either of you.

This year was different. No amount of flowers or pastries could distract anyone from the fact that you weren't there. He should have stopped you, gotten to you quicker before you could attack Rhys and take his place; you should have just let Rhys give his power, he would have recovered quicker, everything would have been fine.

Mor had tried to get Azriel to dance, but he didn't want to dance with anyone who wasn't you. All he wanted to do was go back to your shared room and wrap himself in your scent so he could dream of you, the only place you were alive and chatting idly about some random fact you'd found in a book that sent your mind spiralling into balanced wonder.

"She wouldn't want you to stand on the side lines, Az," Cassian clapped his shoulder, trying to coax his brother to partake in something this Starfall, for you.

Gasps echoed about the room, a sign that the main event had begun. Usually, you'd be jumping up and down in your spot with excitement, clutching to his fingers as you dragged him from the room and out to the private balcony you had both made yours.

Males and females floated out of the arched doorways, but Azriel stayed behind, not being able to think of witnessing a single Starfall without you.

Burying his hands deep into the pockets of his black pants, Azriel moved in the opposite direction to the enthralled crowd, not being able to stomach even pretending to be happy. With no particular place in mind, Azriel walked, down winding hallways and up a set of steps, along the arched walls until he fell into place in front of a set of familiar doors.

Doors that you had practically torn the handles from one year from the sheer uncontrollable excitement to get outside before either of you missed it.

Azriel sighed, wiping the corners of his eyes, he sniffled softly as he took the handle in his scarred fingers, feeling electricity pouring through it, so intense that he had to pull away with a frown. He stood there for a moment, unsure and bewildered by the sensation.

Then he felt it.

He felt the familiar scent flood where he stood, the shadows reacted quickly, darting to the handle and dancing over the door, fighting for it to be opened.

It couldn't be. Helion would have told them if you had awoken.

It couldn't be.

Azriel flung the doors open and his shadows surged forward, there you stood, your back to him, dressed in Day Court gold with a solid gold halo encasing a full braided bun. The shadows reached you first and you giggled as they kissed every inch of your face, and gods, did that sound have him melting into a blubbering mess.

You turned to him, your mate, and opened your arms to him, ones that he gladly stepped in to. Azriel wrapped his arms around your waist, he ran his fingers over your skin, he left lingering kisses in the nape of your neck and along your shoulder.

"You're home," he strained, sobs of pure happiness tugging at his throat as he pulled away from you, looking down into those eyes he adored too much.

You moved a piece of his hair away from those pools of brown and green, closing the gap between you as the sky came to life, allowing your love to explode around you whilst the world above and below held a calm breath.

"I couldn't full well miss my favourite night of the year, could I?"

Azriel pressed his forehead to yours, stared into your eyes and drank in every single part of you, his fingers not once moving from your body, "You came back to me."

"I'll always come back to you, Az. Always."

Authors Note

I needed something fluffy after my gut wrenching Eris post before.

I'm halfway healed.

#azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar #rhysand #rhys acotar #feyre archeron #feysand #amren acotar #mor acotar #cassian #nesta #fluff #maasverse #shadowsinger x reader

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year

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Loose Lips — Part Two (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Finally got round to writing a part two to this after a sudden burst of inspiration. Here is Part One if you missed it.

This isn't proofread, so sorry if it's a pile of dicks. Enjoy!

Warnings: smuttysmutsmut 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

The forest was undoubtedly beautiful. A place of sure serenity. Somewhere you’d always found peace.

Right now, you felt like nothing short of a thunderbolt in its flawless midst.

You shifted on your feet for what felt like the millionth time, pressing your back against a tree and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t be able to relax until this meeting was over with.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flicked over you, and he frowned. “Are you alright? Why are you so restless?”

Because we’re here to meet with Eris and the last time I did that I somehow, kind of, maybe ended up fucking him—

“Fine.” You quickly answered. “Pain. My cycle is coming.”

Rhys’s eyes softened. “We’ll make this as quick as possible. Once the prick actually deigns to show up.”

You didn’t have a shred of doubt that Eris’s tardiness was deliberate — a power play. And he could play all the games he liked, so long as he kept his damn mouth shut.

As if you’d summoned him with a thought, the Autumn male appeared out of a chill-kissed breeze, his crackling-fire-and-cinnamon scent enveloping you. You tried desperately to block it out — and the sinful thoughts that accompanied it. Of bare skin. Panting breaths. Moans—

“Afternoon.” Eris smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. He offered Rhysand a cursory glance before turning his attention on you. “You’re looking radiant today, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips. Kept your mouth shut. You weren’t getting into it with him — weren’t giving him any ammunition to spill the truth of what had transpired a month earlier.

His lips twitched as he studied you. “What, no smartass response?”

“Cut the shit, Eris.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “Share your information so we can get out of here. We don’t wish to be subjected to your tedious company for any longer than is necessary.”

He cocked his head, and you hated that you noticed he’d cut his hair since you’d last seen him. “Do you not like my company?”

You knew his words were directed at you. He’d come here to play games, and you were having none of it. He allowed his gaze to linger on you for a second longer before turning to your High Lord.

“Well?” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.

Eris folded his arms. “The King of Hybern…”

You didn’t allow yourself to hear the rest of his sentence. For the first time in your career as Rhysand’s courtier, you tuned out, taking in none of the information that was being given. You didn’t hear a word of their discussion as you stared fiercely at a fallen leaf on the ground. You couldn’t.

Because it tortured you on a daily basis that you knew what the redhead’s voice sounded like when he was falling off that precipice into blissful release. The way it had hitched when he’d groaned deeply and spilled into you. It was all you could think about, and you couldn’t bear it.

Guilt had eaten away at you ever since. Guilt and regret. You should never have given yourself to Eris fucking Vanserra.

You only felt safe enough to tune back in when Rhys turned his gaze on you. He gave a subtle dip of his chin, and you returned it — the signal the two of you shared when you’d gleaned useful information to tuck away.

Never mind the fact that you didn’t have a single clue what that information may be.

“Alright, then.” Rhys spoke tersely to the Autumn lord. “Keep me updated. I’ll be in touch when I next need to meet with you.”

“Will it be you, High Lord?” Eris’s lips turned up. He glanced at you. “Or her? I must say, I find her far more appealing to look at.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise. Something to look forward to in your sad little life.” Rhys turned to you, holding out a hand. “Ready?”

You shook your head. “You go. I promised Madja I’d collect some herbs for her while I’m here.”

A small, pathetic part of you wanted to beg Rhys to stay; to keep you company and not leave you alone with Eris. But he was a busy male — far too busy for the drama you’d created for yourself. You plastered a smile on your face.

“I’ll see you at home, then.” He smiled. And without a goodbye to your tentative ally, he disappeared before your eyes.

Eris smirked as he turned to you. “And then there were two.”

“Leave me alone.” You pulled your foraging knife out, turning on your feet. You didn’t look back as you began to kick through leaves and twigs.

But, of course, he was hot on your trail. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody who made you cum not once, not twice, but three times.”

You clenched your jaw, ignoring him as you knelt down in front of a cluster of plants. You would do better this time. You wouldn’t allow your mouth to run you down a path you couldn’t come back from.

He didn’t make it easy, though. Not as you tried to focus yourself solely on gathering the herbs Madja had listed. Despite the lack of conversation — or even acknowledgement of him — Eris pressed himself against a tree and watched you, absentmindedly cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger.

How could you ever have fallen into bed with him? You were such a damn idiot, risking everything for a few fleeting moments of passion. You tucked the herbs neatly away, pushing to your feet and brushing dirt and leaves from your breeches. You turned—

And stopped as Eris appeared in front of you. He smirked. “I’m still waiting, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For you to thank me for not spilling your dirty little secret.”

Prick. You shoved past him, ignoring his warmth, his scent.

He was at your side in seconds. “Aren’t you so relieved that I didn’t slip up and tell Rhysand about your little ride? I still could.”

Every last drop of your sensibility fizzled out. You couldn’t stop yourself from rounding on him. “Are you truly in a position to be threatening me? Both of us fucked up that night. What do you think Beron would have to say if he found out you’d bedded someone from the Night Court, of all places?”

“My father doesn’t care who I bed. I’m free to do whatever I please, so long as it doesn’t distract me from the ultimate goal.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

His amber gaze glittered, catching the sun. “World domination.”

You rolled your eyes. “How very cliche.”

You made to push past him again, to get the fuck out of there, but his hand was suddenly gripping onto yours. In seconds, he had you pressed against the body of a tree.

You clenched your jaw. “Get. The hell. Away from—”

The remainder of the sentence didn’t have a chance to so much as form as Eris’s mouth found yours.

The press of his kiss was hot and needy, and as his lips moulded with yours, he groaned.

It was that action that made you realise just how little space existed between your bodies. His hips were pinned to yours, keeping you in place, and the warmth of him seeped into you as your breasts brushed his chest. Within seconds — mere seconds of him kissing you — you felt him harden in his breeches. His groan seemed to vibrate through every part of him and into you.

And then he was tearing his lips from yours. Staring down at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing. I’ve thought about nothing but this,” he rolled his hips against you, making sure your attention went exactly where he wanted it, “for over a month, now. Tell me you’ve been just as crazed.”

You had been. Perhaps more so. But you swallowed. “I can’t.”

That didn’t deter Eris from slanting his lips over yours again. His tongue swiped out, brushing against the seam of your lips, and you were powerless against your need as you opened your mouth and allowed him to dip in.

You gasped at the first taste of him; something cool and crisp and smoky. And you knew you were done fighting, telling yourself you didn’t want this, as you grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him more firmly against you.

He grunted as the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against your stomach. His lips slid from yours, dragging slowly over your cheek, and then the cut of your jaw, down to your neck.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He panted, pressing quick, chaste kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, knowing there was no chance in hell of that. “No.”

And that single word — as much as it pained you to say it — dragged such a delicious, guttural noise from him, that you forgot entirely about who you were and why this was wrong. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than what Eris was doing.

Your mouth went so very, very dry as he pulled away to meet your gaze. And then lowered himself to his knees before you.

He was utterly uncaring of the dirt and leaves that stuck to his breeches as he clasped your legs. And the hard press of his hands felt scorching through your own pants. You wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d turned the clothing to mere ash he dragged his palms up the backs of your legs and cupped your ass.

“You’re fucking mouthwatering.” He dipped in, pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “I need to taste you.”

“Holy gods.” You cursed, your head falling back against the tree. “Do it, then.”

Like a male entirely starved and desperate, his nimble fingers moved to the buttons on your breeches, making quick work of getting them undone. The second they were loosened enough, he yanked them down with a feral command that had heat rushing between your legs.

And he could scent that. You knew it. He inhaled deeply, and his responding moan was sinful.

“This is wrong.” Your voice was weak, useless, as your head fell back.

“So wrong.” Eris hooked his fingers into the thin waistband of your undergarments. Tugged them down..

You made no move to stop him. “And stupid. And selfish. And—”

Your words turned into a moan as he dipped in and dragged his tongue up the very centre of you.

A satisfied grunt left him, and he lifted your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. It had you at a better angle, closer to him, so he could feast on you.

And feast, he did.

His mouth and tongue were renowned for wielding wicked, barbed words, but this was a different language entirely. His fingers dug into your legs as he buried himself between your thighs, licking and lapping and fucking devouring. He made his way up, scraping teeth over your clit, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. Before you had a chance to react, he soothed over the area with the pad of his tongue, and a bolt of white-hot pleasure surged through you.

“Oh, gods.” Breathy words escaped your lips. Thank the Mother above for the mammoth tree at your back that gave you the support to move as you wished to move, undulating your hips, grinding against Eris’s face.

And from the way he growled and feasted on you harder, you knew he liked it. He was becoming coated in you, painting himself with your wetness. With the roll of your hips picking up pace, he didn’t falter once.

“Look at you.” He breathed, eyes flicking up to drink you in. “You’re a fucking vision.”

“Stop talking and make me—oh.”

Your hips bucked as he slid a finger into you, the friction of his callused skin like a sinful bite you wanted more of. You didn’t know if you vocalised that, or if Eris simply read you well, but he quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out.

“Just as you felt around my cock that night.” He panted. “Squeezing me like that.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, needing to just…to just grab onto something. He seemed to like it as you pulled, and he thrust his fingers faster in return.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” His tongue stroked at you. “And again on my cock.”

Somewhere, some steeled part of you wanted to give a smartass retort. But you were far too gone, splintering into tiny shards of pleasure against that tree. There was nothing, in that moment, besides the sensations Eris Vanserra dragged from between your thighs. No long-lived feuds or tentative alliances or right or wrong.

It was just him. His fingers. His tongue.

And it sent you hurtling right off that blissful cliff edge into release.

As you came, you thought you maybe shouted loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Your pleasure was a fearsome force as it stormed your body, your mind, your soul, until you weren’t sure who you’d be without it. How you could survive not experiencing this weightlessness again.

And Eris…he seemed to enjoy your pleasure as much as you did. Even though his cock strained through his breeches, touched by nothing but torturous fabric, his tongue and fingers continued to guide you through your climax, and he peppered in filthy, scandalous words that you were far too fractured to make sense of.

Until he pulled back to look up at you again. “I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you.” He said.

You weren’t sure you could deny, any longer, that this truly had been going on for that long. It didn’t start with that one night of bad decisions driving you into bed with him. It had been years and years of thinly-veiled threats and barbed words and insults and vitriol soaked in lust.

Every bit of hatred you’d ever directed at each other had been to try and avoid this — giving in to a carnal need that had existed between you since the first ever time your eyes had met.

You knew you didn’t have that strength, that resolve, anymore.

“I need you inside me.” Your voice was rough, raw. You reached down, shamelessly yanking Eris to his feet by the fabric of his jacket, not caring that your desperation showed. “Fuck me.”

You wanted it — him — hot and hard and fast and certainly not gentle. You wanted the bark of the tree biting into you as he pounded you from behind. You wanted him roaring as unguarded as you had.

“You’re a little brat.” Was all he responded. And then he was kissing you again.

You allowed him the control of your lips as your fingers tore at the front buttons on his breeches. Nothing was moving fast enough, and you were hot all over, desperate to feel him pulsing deep inside you—

Y/N. I need you back here.

Rhysand’s voice in your head was akin to be plunged in ice-cold water. Damn daemati. You froze in place, your hands falling still.

Eris didn’t seem to notice as he kissed his way along your jaw.

Y/N. Rhys spoke into your mind again. Get back as soon as you can. Need to discuss Azriel’s report.

You sucked in a breath, planting your hands on Eris’s arms. You pushed him off you. “I have to leave.”

He paused, surprise crossing his face. “What?”

“I can’t — I’m needed back home.” Clarity was dawning on you more and more, paired with guilt. You’d fucked up again. You tried to shake the feeling off as you yanked your underwear and breeches up in one go. “I can’t do this.”

“Seriously?” Eris cocked an eyebrow. “You’re leaving now?”

It was an effort not to glance down at the very unsatisfied bulge still pressing through his breeches. “Rhys just spoke into my thoughts. He needs me back.”

“How convenient.”

Of course he didn’t believe you. You had to admit, it didn’t look great — getting an earth-shattering orgasm out of him and then leaving.

But perhaps it was a blessing from the Mother. Perhaps she was stopping you taking it too far a second time.

“Believe what you want.” You pushed past Eris, buttoning your breeches up. “I answer to my High Lord first and foremost.”

“Go running back to him then.” Eris shrugged. And if you weren’t mistaken, you thought that a strange quality lay in his tone. Perhaps hurt, or…or jealousy. “He says jump and you say how high, right?”

“You have your High Lord, Eris,” you smoothed over the wrinkles in your clothes, “and I have mine.”

He pressed his back against the tree, watching with an unreadable expression as you checked yourself over.

And then the corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’ll be back, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “That is a very, very bad idea.”

You winnowed out of there before he could respond.

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shadowdaddies · 9 months

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Hi! Can you do an Azriel x fem!Illyrian!tall!reader where they are mates and the bond snapped for her but not for him yet and she doesn’t say anything because of his thing with Elain. They just stay friends. They are spies together and go on a mission and something happens where they have a fight and he leaves her to do the mission alone and she ends up getting kidnapped and tortured. By the time the bat boys find her, her wings had been burned and healed over so they are covered in scars and she was clipped so she can never fly again. And maybe the reader never says Azriel’s name even after centuries of being friends. Just calls him by nicknames but when she’s being tortured that all she’s calling. Ugh my heart. Long request, very angsty with hurt and comfort but a happy ending

I teared up a little bit writing this. What a beautiful request, thank you for sending it in and for being patient through the holidays as I got to it. 💜

In Every Lifetime

Azriel x Reader angst to fluff

Warnings: explicit torture, blood, mentions of death, etc

Your shriek pierced through the air, drowning out the sound of Hybern’s naga-hound as its claws shredded Azriel’s wings. Tears brimming in your eyes, an unknown force propelled you towards him as you cut the hound down with your sword, looking up in search of hazel eyes, only to find them locked on the beautiful Archeron sister in his arms.

The snap in your chest felt nothing like the electric warmth you’d heard of from others. Instead, it was as though someone tore each chord of your heartstrings from your chest as you watched Azriel - your mate - leave Hybern’s camp with Elain in his arms.

Caught up in the stresses and planning of battle, no one paid mind to your solemn mood. No one saw the single tear that tracked down your cheek when you watched Azriel give Truth-Teller to Elain.

When the war ended, your family assumed that your depression was a result of trauma from the battle, and you let them. Months passed in a daze as you forced your body to ignore the call it felt towards Azriel. Your name on his lips, the feel of his hand on your shoulder - any interaction with Azriel was too much for you to bear.

What your family did not miss was how you became a shell of your former self. Nearly a year had passed since the war ended, and you could not look Azriel in the eyes anymore. Couldn’t forget how they looked at Elain, her hand brushing his at family dinners. Your reclusion expanded to the rest of your family, unable to lift your eyes or meet them in conversation at dinners, the pure fear of what you might unleash if you saw Elain’s hand on your mate. You knew that you had no claim over Azriel. He was not even aware of the mating bond, and you couldn’t tell him so long as he cared for Elain.

Heart sinking exceptionally low in your chest, you pushed the food around on your plate as thoughts eddied in your mind, only to be interrupted by Rhysand clearing his throat.

You looked up, violet eyes watching you with poorly veiled concern as he addressed you again. “I said that I need you to join Azriel on a trip to the Autumn Court. Eris believes that Beron may be considering an alliance with Koschei. The two of you will travel there tomorrow night while Eris helps you sneak into Beron’s office for any intel.”

Teeth bit down harshly on your lip, fingers clenching around the fork in your hand as you fought the urge to look at Azriel. With a deep sigh, you managed to meet Rhys’s gaze as you gave him a curt nod.

“Tomorrow night. See you then, shadowsinger,” you nodded to Azriel, shooting up from your seat at the table and excusing yourself without another word.

The next day was spent preparing, mentally and physically, for your trip. You packed your bag with your regular weapons, arming your body for a stealth mission, arming your mind for mental torture. Azriel’s knock sounded on your door right on time, a shaky exhale leaving your lips before you turned the handle.

“Are you ready?” Azriel spoke, voice low and shaky as though he were afraid of your response. You simply nodded, eyes only able to meet the lower half of his face as you attempted a weak smile. With a small sigh, Azriel placed a hand on your arm. You flinched at the touch, missing the silver lining his hazel eyes at your reaction.

Darkness swirled around you, familiar shadows encompassing your forms as Azriel spirited you both away to the Autumn Court. You landed just outside the Forest House, following Azriel as he directed you behind him against the stone wall.

“We should receive a signal from Eris once it’s safe to enter. Just stay close to me, please,” he whispered, pleading in his tone as you once again refused to meet his gaze. With a silent nod, you trailed quietly behind Azriel in the grass, both of you keeping your wings tucked in tight as the shadows covered you from sight of the guards.

An odd, unfamiliar bird call sounded in the distance and you froze, instantly on alert. Azriel, though, visibly relaxed as a small smile graced his full lips. “That’s the signal,” he said, holding out his hand once more as you forced yourself to take it. The warmth of his touch sent your reeling, your only salvation being the onslaught of cold shadows whirling around you once more, carrying you directly to Beron’s office.

“Look around, see if there’s anything in or on Beron’s desk that might show he’s been in communication with Koschei or his allies. I’m going to stand watch outside, see if Eris is able to show with any new information,” Azriel spoke softly, his body tense as he shifted between you and the door.

You nodded dutifully, wasting no time in moving to the desk as you sifted through letters and ledgers. You froze, one parchment catching your eye. “Az, this mentions meeting on a lake-“

The cold steel of a blade at your throat took you by surprise, blood running cold as you took note of the three males surrounding you. The one with his blade to your throat gripped your wing harshly, crumpling the sensitive appendage as you crumpled in his hold with a whimper.

Azriel turned from where he stood in the doorway, jaw going slack as cobalt siphons glared in preparation to fight your captors. A dark laugh sounded behind you as the fragile bones of your wing snapped, shocking pain searing through you as your eyes shot to Azriel’s.

Your world tipped on its axis as you looked into your mate’s hazel eyes for the first time since the bond snapped for you, helplessly watching as Azriel stumbled back in shock and you vanished into thin air in front of him.

You awoke in a dark cellar, the stench of blood and excrement muddying your thoughts as you came to. Cold metal encircled your wrists, a slight tug confirming the heavy iron shackles that held your arms taught above your head.

The taste of iron filled your mouth, red blood coating your tongue as you swiped it along the gash on your busted lip. With a groan, you instinctively moved to stretch your wings, only to feel an excruciating pull against them.

You dared to look up, bile rising in your throat as you took in the sight of your wings nailed to the wall. Spread out on display for your enemies, bleeding from the holes in which iron pierced through them.

“Ah, it’s awake,” a male rumbled as he strode into the room with preternatural grace. You immediately recognized him as one of Lucien and Eris’s brothers - a Lord of the Autumn Court. The two other males you recognized from before flanked him on either side as they stalked towards your limp, bleeding form. “Now we begin.”

Days passed, questions you couldn’t possibly know the answers to being strung at you like arrows to a target. With each failed answer, a slash was delivered to your wings, the once beautiful source of pride for you now a tattered, mangled mess, blood trailing and staining the floor around you.

“I will ask you one last time, where is Gwydion?” the Autumn Lord asked, dagger flipping in his pale hand as amber eyes assessed you.

“Fuck you,” you spat, blood spewing from your mouth at the venomous male. His nostrils flared, anger rolling from him in waves as the hilt of his dagger clanged against the stone above your wing. Gripping your chin, a wicked smile spread across the male’s face as his arm dragged the blade down.

It cut through your wing like butter, your screams only slightly muffled by the tight grip he held on your chin. Azriel’s face flashed in your mind, your bond subconsciously reaching out to your mate as you realized you would never be together in this life.

Vision turned red, thoughts incoherent from the pain as words were uttered in your ear. You could hear the sick satisfaction in his voice as your torturer dragged the blade down your other wing, fully severing it from your body.

With a sickening sound, your wings slumped to the ground beside you only so briefly before they were lifted up and tossed like sacks of flour to the other males. “Pin them up, so it can have a view while it dies,” the red-haired male ordered before leaving the room.

You were soon alone, vision fading into your old wings in front of you, and out as you pictured Azriel’s face. Leaning back against the jagged stumps where your wings once were, you finally allowed the tears to fall. Perhaps it was selfish when your mate loved another, but all you wanted in your last moments was to feel those hands you’d avoided for months, to look in the depths of golden and green eyes and feel comforted knowing you would find him in the next life.

Your eyes drifted shut, the scent of cedar and mist filling your senses as you thanked the Mother for one last moment of comfort before your life ended.

Of course, you wouldn’t find peace in the afterlife either. Bright sun filtered into whatever room you were in, the space horribly similar to your home in Prythian as your head pounded in pain. You dared to open your eyes, and for the first time in nearly a year, smile.

Dark curls fell in front of hazel eyes as they focused on you, chilled mist and cedar giving you a dizzying satisfaction.

“I knew I’d find you in the next life,” you whispered, voice rasp in pain as you looked to Azriel sitting on the bed in front of you.

His brows dipped in confusion, head tilting as a scarred thumb caressed your cheek. “What next life?” he murmured, pain lacing his tone.

Your eyes fluttered shut once more, already tired from the effort of speaking. “In the last life, you loved Elain. But I knew I would find you in the next. I’m your mate in every world, and I’ll wait until you love me back, Az,” you admitted, half-asleep as you melted into the soft cushion under your head.

You heard a gasp, your eyes straining to open as Azriel looked down at you. Tears fell freely down his flushed cheeks, lip wobbling as his hands cupped your face. “I love you. In this life, and every other. I am so, so sorry that I failed you.”

Reaching a hand up to hold his, you savored the warmth against your cheek and smiled. “I will find you in every lifetime, Azriel. Be whatever you need.”

Leaning down, Azriel pressed his forehead to yours as he breathed, “You are all I need. In every lifetime.”

Patting the bed, you urged Azriel into the space next to you, falling asleep in your mate’s arms, filled with a deep peace unlike that which you had ever known.

Part Two

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chairofchaos · 13 days

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Betrayal

@lady-of-tearshed poked the bear. So… have fun everybody!

This is dark! Violent. Graphic. Heavy on the ANGST!!! Wrote this on mobile in about ten minutes because I’m not back at my laptop yet, so forgive me the formatting. It just couldn’t wait 😇

@erisweekofficial for Day 3: BETRAYAL.

Eris and Azriel begin a courtship during the war against Hybern

Azriel recognizes the mating bond but says nothing

Eris doesn’t realize Azriel is his mate, and considers the attachment casual at best. Can’t get too attached when you’re constantly days from being killed by your own father, you know?

They frequently meet— but, out of sight, out of everyone else’s mind

Always a different court. With all the troops passing through and refugees from Spring, it is easier than ever to go unnoticed

Beron becomes suspicious at his son’s frequent movements when his guard repeatedly reports not being able to locate him

Beron gives him a chance to explain to save his own skin rather than disgracing the court

Eris turns in Azriel, claiming he has been spying on the spymaster and Azriel is a traitor working with Hybern, using his shadows to keep the King of Hybern up to speed on troops and their movements

No one trusts Rhysand to be objective in his daemati assessment, and no one else is willing to expose themselves as a daemati to intervene

Because no one can corroborate, Azriel is issued a death penalty, to be carried out in his camp of origin two weeks later

Eris is devastated, but the damage is done. There is nothing he can do, though he tries

Sends his trusted soldiers to try to retrieve him and get him out; even attempts to sneak into Night and find him, but no one knows where he is

Eris feels horrible, but he still doesn’t realize that Azriel is his mate

He is on the battlefield when Azriel is killed and is so distracted by the fracturing of his heart and soul that he doesn’t see his brother raising his sword to attack him in a desperate attempt to gain power

Eris dies on the battlefield, Azriel’s name on his tongue and tears streaming down his face. Those who saw it said his tears boiled as they fell, the last whispers of his power burning his anguish into his face

And nobody lived happily ever after.

The. End.

Tag list: @ninthcircleofprythian @c-starstuff-man0 @unanswered-stars @lilah-asteria @dusk-muse

#and to think I was going to be so nice today #Happy Eris Week!#don’t tell me Eris at some points wouldn’t do anything to save his own skin #especially if he thought Azriel could save himself #erisweek2024 #eris vanserra #azriel shadowsinger #azris supremacy #azris #azris blurb #acotar blurb #fictionalchaos #azris headcanon #acotar headcanons

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emmitaaa4 · 7 months

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“Elriel is too predictable! It’s boring & lazy writing!”

… 🧍‍♂️

My brother in Christ. You call SJM the fated mates author. Through 15+ books and 3 series she hasn’t diverged from that trope. Elain has a “mate”.

If an Elriel outcome is predictable, it’s because the author willed it so and therefore ✨wrote scenes✨ to ✨develop their relationship✨.

and by that i mean…

(long post ahead…. bear with me)

SJM wrote Mr. “I don’t need to resort to poetry” going all Azriel Allan Poe, flustered as he tells Elain “we are born hearing the song of the wind”. She wrote him uncharacteristically open & talkative, while when he 1st met Feyre he deferred all her questions to others.

SJM wrote that despite how different they may look, Elain does not balk from Az. She never has: from their 1st meeting she finds comfort in him, and he in turn notices her—she’s never been afraid of him, he has always seen her.

SJM wrote the 1st coherent thing to come out of Elain’s mouth in WaR to be “beautiful” as she beholds Azriel’s scarred hands. In turn, she wrote our gardener not minding imperfections on hers, for despite her lady-like conditioning, she prefers to get her hands dirty.

SJM wrote Az spending time with her in the sunshine: no forced conversation, no one hEaLinG anyone, just them both doing their own thing as a relaxed Az suns his wings. Just two pals comfortable with one another… which SJM foreshadowed in MaF through Feyre’s “Elain would likely cling to Az for some peace and quiet”.

SJM wrote Az and Cass both stilling at the sight of El & Nes, she wrote Az cutting in to set Elain up in her garden even as Feyre was about to do it, she wrote the mention that Elain was safe after the twin raven’s attack bc Az had stayed with her at the townhouse.

SJM wrote Azriel’s eyes churning as he looks at Elain and her too-thin body, before abruptly winnowing away, and we’re left with Mor looking at the spot where he left. Wonder what that was about (it certainly did not remind me of Rhys in TaR).

You know, Elriels are not just making stuff up and theorizing about the E/ucien bond cause we’re desperately pulling at straws…

SJM had Madja say “a mate would know if something is amiss”, then wrote a scene juxtaposing both Lucien’s and Azriel’s reactions/assessments of what was going on with Elain… and she had Azriel be the one to know nothing was “wrong” with her—no, she just had rare powers and needed to be heard, to be taken seriously. He didn't let her be misunderstood, for he was the ONLY one that listened to her, that took her visions/ramblings seriously right from the get go. And so he gave Elain the understanding she needed to free herself from the dream-like murky realm she was trapped in. Through it all, SJM emphasizes that Azriel also understands what it is like to struggle with rare, strange, prized powers in silence; what it’s like to be othered by them. I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: she sees everything and he hears everything.

SJM wrote that “Elain had hoped that love would trump even a mating bond” and had her characters question the Cauldron in relation to Elucien *twice* (years apart!).

…

SJM wrote Az being the only one—in a room full of Made beings speaking of being Made—to notice that Elain was missing. A reassuring but empty statement by Cass that they’d get her back….but then it was Azriel that stated, eyes glowing golden, that HE would be getting her back, despite the girl’s own sister discouraging him & telling him he’d die. Hell, Feyre had this whole deliberation on whether she’d join him only after he’d say he’d go. His initiative.

The Hybern scene is too long to add, but this post and this theory break it all down brilliantly.

Yes, Az has sacrificial tendencies. Yes, he’d risk his life for loved ones in general. But we have never seen him this affected, and it is because SJM purposely used language to emphasize Elain and Azriel’s meaningful reactions to the other… despite it being wholly “unnecessary”

It is all intentional… lazy’s antonym.

SJM wrote the Truthteller scene. She emphasized the exchange, which left Cassian gasping and Rhys flabbergasted; it also left Feyre with a significant painting in her mind. It lead to Elain, aka “my God has answered me,” stepping out of a shadow to save her sister. Azriel, aka “God is my help”, indeed helped armed Elain so she could answer her sisters prayers.

SJM ended WaR with Elain’s smile literally lighting up Az’s shadows.

SJM had Elain’s thoughtful gift to him make his eyes the brightest we’ve seen—and by doing so gave us the most beautiful description of his earthy eyes, “the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.” We have never seen Az so joyful & carefree throughout the entire series.

SJM wrote that Azriel beat Feyre to Elain’s side as she was looking out into the night. She wrote Elain stilling at the sight of a dashing Azriel—her throat bobbing—while Az “just moved towards her”.

SJM wrote the potato scene—“sit i’ll take care of it”—Azriel again being the one to respect Elain’s presence & contribution as he makes a room full of his “superiors” wait until Elain finishes tidying herself up (cause girlie wanted to look put together for a certain shadowsinger). Mor gapes, Amren smirks, Rhys talks of Az’s mom… all because of that surprising, singular behaviour from him.

SJM wrote Az making a joke at Amren’s expense upon noticing Elain’s discomfort; our girl’s shoulders indeed relax in relief. THE LIGHT RETURNS IN HER EYES.

SJM has Azriel staying up past 3am with Elain, listening to her speak of something she is passionate of.

SJM wrote Azriel spending an entire convo with his brothers looking out into the garden from the window (SJM mentioned it 4 times yet some still missed it).

SJM wrote Rhys goading Az for a reaction as he quizzes him on Lucien and Grayson; wrote Rhys realizing that Azriel did not want to know what Elain did with Lucien (in the case she did anything). She wrote Azriel nervously stuttering as he asks risks if they need to get the sisters a present… I wonder why.

And Rosehall… SJM wrote ROSEhall: cracktheory this cracktheory that, to the gwonriels I’d say we both know you wouldn’t say it’s irrelevant had SJM chosen to call his estate Tealhall.

~~~~

Keep in mind: SJM could have written those significant scenes and ultimately kept it PG: she could have chosen language that built up a profound platonic relationship.

Yet… in MaF she has Feyre comment that they would be good together—as in make a good *couple*. WaR roles in and they’re both dealing with the very public rejections they went through—but SJM had them build a quiet companionship in the background, while giving them a wealth of scenes of great significance for both their characters, and while using language like “she DEVOURED the sight of him” “he CRADLED her to his chest”. In FaS they are slowly but surely getting over their last loves, and SJM continues developing their connection.

And in ACOSF, in the book that supposedly “ended” Elriel…

SJM wrote Az following the sound of her laugh (😭). “ It’s just lust” PLEASE BFFR.

SJM chose to remind us—THREE times—of the Hybern rescue scene... then had Az tell Cass that he’d know, in his chest, if something happened to Nesta.

SJM had Az longingly stare at the gift Elain gave him every night for a YEAR—mind plagued by thoughts of her—made him so affected by her that he had reactions to every mention of her name in SF, so affected that it took Nes one look at them to notice his feelings, to reach out in comfort upon noticing the pain that keeping himself apart from to her caused him. As SJM said she would, Nes saw through his secret in ACOSF, still it is “his secret to tell, never hers”. After Solstice we are met with a grumpy Azriel, who lost the snowball fight for the 1st time in centuries (i wonder why…).

SJM chose to link his every secret back to his feelings for Elain, as per the bonus . Why does he stay up so late and wake up so early? He longs for Elain so much he can’t sleep. Why is he staying in the HoW? It is too hard to be close to Elain given their circumstances; he must physically distance himself from her. Why has he moved on from Mor after centuries? Elain. Why is he grumpy post Solstice? The argument with Rhys concerning Elain.

~~~~

Ultimately, SJM wrote for Elriel:

- Complementary imagery (flowers and death? light and dark blending together to form something new… DUSK, anyone?)

- AND plot altering scenes

- AND chose to liken them to one another multiple times

- AND genuine moments of companionship that slowly bloomed into something more…

… Is it so insane to believe that maybe SJM spent so much page time and effort building connections & common ground between them because she intends for elain & az to find peace and quiet within one another?

Or idk, maybe it was all for shits and giggles… and if it was i salute her commitment to the shits and the giggles🫡

Either way, it is the opposite of lazy writing…

It’s SJM’s world & words, and we are just reading them.

P.S: This was all just typed on my cell phone from the top of my head… yes remembering all this is probs concerning, yes I am obsessed. Please correct me if I got anything wrong.

#elain archeron #azriel #elriel #pro elriel #azriel shadowsinger #pro elain #pro azriel #acomaf #acowar #acosf #elain x azriel #elucien-bond #antigwynriel #not even anti; just pro common sense

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bookwormjust · 14 days

Text

Imagine: Into the Cauldron and Cassian’s Claim

The air was thick with tension, every breath a struggle as the King of Hybern’s soldiers held you fast, their grip bruising and unyielding. The towering form of the Cauldron loomed before you, a vessel of dark power that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. You could feel the ancient magic swirling around it, a sinister force that promised to reshape you in ways you couldn’t begin to comprehend.

Feyre stood beside Rhysand, her eyes wide with fear and fury as she struggled against the chains that held her back. Nesta and Elain were already beside the Cauldron, their expressions a mix of terror and defiance. Nesta glared at the King with a look that promised retribution, while Elain’s face was pale, her eyes glassy as she trembled under the weight of the unknown.

You tried to swallow your fear, but it clung to you like a shroud, heavy and suffocating. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a frantic drum that echoed in your ears. As the soldiers dragged Nesta forward, her screams of rage and terror pierced the air, and you fought against your captors with all the strength you had. Feyre’s voice rose in a desperate plea, her magic sparking at her fingertips, but the wards held firm.

Nesta was the first to be thrown into the Cauldron. She thrashed and cursed, her eyes blazing with defiance even as the dark water swallowed her whole. The Cauldron’s magic surged, a violent churning that sent ripples of dread through the room. Moments later, Nesta emerged, gasping and disoriented, her body transformed and her eyes burning with a newfound power.

Then it was Elain’s turn. She screamed, her terror filling the room as she was forced into the Cauldron’s depths. The magic took her, twisting and reshaping her until she was reborn, trembling and fae. Her eyes were wide with shock, and Feyre’s cries for her sister echoed as she fought against her restraints.

Your turn came next. The soldiers’ hands were rough as they dragged you forward, the cold stone scraping against your legs as you stumbled. You could see Feyre’s face, her expression twisted with a mix of fury and anguish, and it was that look—your sister’s pain—that made your own fear spike. She had always been your protector, your rock when things were too hard to bear. You and Feyre had always understood each other in a way that Nesta and Elain did not—two sides of the same coin, bound by the shared trials of your youth.

“Feyre!” you screamed, your voice cracking as the soldiers forced you closer to the Cauldron. She struggled harder, her magic flaring wildly, but the chains held, and the King watched with a satisfied smirk.

Cassian, battered and bloody from his own battle, was held back by two soldiers. His face was contorted with rage, his wings dragging on the ground, torn and bloody from the fight. The sight of you being dragged toward the Cauldron made something in him snap. He fought against his captors, his power surging despite his injuries, his eyes locked onto you with a fierce, desperate intensity.

The King’s laugh echoed through the chamber, cold and mocking as you were pushed to the Cauldron’s edge. “Let her be reborn,” he sneered, gesturing for his soldiers to proceed.

You barely had time to brace yourself before they shoved you in. The cold water closed around you, a suffocating force that pulled you under. Your senses were overwhelmed by the dark, inky magic of the Cauldron, every nerve alight with a searing pain that made you writhe and struggle. You felt as if you were being torn apart, the magic ripping through your veins and rewriting every piece of you.

It felt like an eternity—trapped in that dark abyss, caught between the violent pull of the Cauldron and the desperate need to survive. You thought of Feyre, of your home, of the life that had been ripped from you, and the fear swallowed you whole.

But through the pain, there was a flicker—a connection that you hadn’t noticed before, a faint warmth that pushed against the dark. It was different from the bond you shared with your sisters; it was stronger, deeper, and it called to you in a way that made your heart stutter. Cassian’s presence, his strength, and the desperate need to get to you, to save you, surged through that faint thread.

You’re not alone, the thought whispered through the bond. I’m here. I won’t let you go.

With a final, brutal pull, the Cauldron spat you out. You hit the cold stone floor, gasping for breath, your body trembling from the violent transformation. Everything felt different—your senses sharper, your strength renewed, but your heart was still heavy with fear and uncertainty. You were fae now, irrevocably changed, and the realization made your breath hitch as you struggled to your knees.

Cassian broke free of his captors in that moment, a savage roar tearing from his throat as he fought his way to you. His wings flared out, the powerful, battered limbs sweeping aside anyone who dared to stand between you. He was upon you in seconds, his hands cradling your face as he searched your eyes, his expression a mix of anger, fear, and something deeper—something primal and unyielding.

“You’re safe,” he rasped, his voice cracking as he pulled you against his chest. His heartbeat was frantic beneath your ear, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he held you close. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

You clung to him, the reality of what had just happened crashing over you in waves. Your fingers twisted into the fabric of his torn leathers, your body trembling as the aftershocks of the transformation rolled through you. Cassian’s wings wrapped around you both, a protective barrier that shut out the rest of the world. The scent of blood and sweat clung to him, but underneath it was something warm and familiar—home.

Cassian’s hold was almost too tight, his Illyrian instincts in full control as he shielded you from the chaos still unfolding around you. His growl was low and feral, a warning to anyone who dared approach. He was all sharp edges and deadly intent, his focus entirely on you, on keeping you safe from whatever threat might still be lurking.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away the tears that had slipped free. “I should have stopped this,” he murmured, his voice raw with guilt and fury. “I should have protected you.”

You shook your head, your hands gripping his arms as you tried to steady your breathing. “It’s not your fault,” you managed to say, your voice weak but firm. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Cassian’s eyes blazed with a protective fire as he looked at you, his jaw clenched tightly. “You’re mine,” he growled softly, the words carrying a weight that made your heart skip a beat. The bond between you thrummed, not fully formed but present, a quiet promise of what was to come. His mate. The realization settled over him with a fierce certainty, his need to protect and claim you overtaking every other thought.

“Cassian—” you began, but he silenced you with a gentle kiss to your forehead, his wings pulling you closer still.

“Rest now,” he whispered, his tone softer but no less commanding. “I’ll keep you safe. No one will hurt you again, I swear it.”

The rest of the Inner Circle was slowly regrouping, the King’s forces in disarray as Rhysand and Feyre unleashed their combined wrath upon Hybern. But all of that felt distant, muted, as you stayed nestled within Cassian’s protective embrace. His warmth, his strength, and the unwavering determination in his eyes were enough to make the terror of the Cauldron fade into the background.

For the first time since this nightmare began, you felt a glimmer of peace. Cassian was here, and despite the blood and the pain, despite the fear that still lingered, you knew you would be okay. The bond between you was not yet fully formed, but it pulsed with the promise of something unbreakable—a connection that went beyond mere attraction or affection. It was a bond forged in the fire of battle, strengthened by the shared need to protect and be protected.

And as you rested against Cassian’s chest, his wings shielding you from the world, you knew that whatever came next, you would face it together.

#cassian x fem!reader #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian #cassian acotar #acotar x reader #acotar reader imagine #acotar #Spotify

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