velaris-fic-repository

[velaris-fic-repository]

I’m of the opinion that Azriel needs someone who is going to push him, challenge him and change him.

Someone who is going to pull him out of his sad, quiet comfort zone

“Azriel needs a delicate flower.”

BRUH HE IS THE DELICATE FLOWER. What the fuck are you on about??

[velaris-fic-repository]

Comfort by Candlelight

Based on this request.

Pairing: Lucien Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lucien comforts Reader during her torturous cycle.

Warnings: Mentions of menstrual periods | descriptions of throwing up | heart wrenching fluff (I need this man badly)

2.5k words.

The ache in my body came in relentless waves, crashing harder into me after the last. I'd barely made it into my room before collapsing onto my bed, curling into a ball and burrowing into the cold pillows, seeking reprieve from the sharp twists in my abdomen as I tucked my legs to my chest and let out pitiful, quiet sniffles.

The knock on the door makes me groan, half of me wishes whoever it was would just go away. Of course, the door creaked open and I was met with a concerned-faced Lucien taking up the doorway with a steaming mug in his hands.

He paced to my bedside, setting the hot tea down on my nightstand. "I made your favorite blend— it's not as good as your brew but, I tried." He mumbles and I smile softly at my mate. His amber eye looks me over, his brows creasing as his concern grows for me.

"Also—" He fishes a small vial from his breast pocket, the clear liquid inside already making me grimace. His eyes softened at my reaction to the pain tonic. "I know you hate the taste but it'll take the edge off." He reassures, placing the vial beside my steaming tea. "So let's sit you up and you can wash it down with some tea yeah?" He says, standing upright and peering down at me.

Slowly, I nod and he moves to help guide me up, putting a pillow behind me as I lean back against the headboard. "Alright?" He asks cautiously and I nod again.

"You don't have to baby me, you know," I remark as he hands me the vial after unscrewing its cap.

"I know I don't have to," He says, grabbing my tea, keeping it warm with the fire at his fingertips. "But I want to." His gaze doesn't falter as he brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. "Now drink, and then you can have the tea." He croons, keeping my mug captive.

I huff a sigh as I bring the vial up to my lips, trying not to breathe in as I downed the oddly thick, syrupy medicine. I groan as I swallow it down and he was quick to bring the rim of the mug to my lips. I drank deeply, the perfectly tempered beverage spreading warmth throughout my entire body. I hum delightfully and take another sip, pulling my legs up to my chest.

"Good?" He asks tentatively and I nod, pulling the drink away.

"You might have to start making my tea all the time," I chirp as if it were a warning. He smiles softly, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of my head.

"Fine by me, just say the word and I'll do anything to make you feel better alright?" He murmurs into my hair, his calloused hand cupping my cheek gently.

He pulls away and I look up at him, tears brimming my eyes. His brows crease. "No, no baby what's wrong?" His hand on my cheek moves along my jaw, wiping the invisible tears beneath my eyes. "Nothing— you're just, so kind to me," I sniffle. He knew full well I was only acting like this because of the imbalance and swing of my hormones but it was still endearing to see me so torn up about his affection. "I don't deserve this," I murmur and his smile shifts into a frown, that, that he had a problem with.

"No." He said sternly. "No, my love you deserve everything good that there is." He reassures. "Now I'm going to draw you a bath, you stay here alright?" He said and I nodded, still sniffing.

Only a minute later he was returning to my side and guiding me into his arms, carrying me bridal style into our bathing chambers. He gave me the dignity of undressing myself while he poured my favorite oils and salts into the bath, stirring it with his hand, simultaneously warming it with the fire in his veins.

Once I was bare he guided me into the warm water, my muscles immediately soothing over at the change of temperature. I let out a soft sigh as I relaxed into the tub, leaning back and allowing the heat of the water to sink into my very bones.

"Are you trying to make me love you more?" I ask through a groan as he moves to lather an expensive-smelling soap along my bare skin.

"Is it working?" He asks with a sly tone, and there was that bantering, foxlike Lucien I loved.

"Maybe, keep going, and then I'll decide," I murmur, leaning into his touch, the familiar sensation of his rough, large hands being so delicate with me. "You know, I could get used to all this pampering," I add, voicing my every thought without any hesitation.

"Mm, good. I'm not going anywhere." He says as he finishes up washing me, not missing an inch.

I craned my neck back to look at him, peeking one eye open and finding his button-up white shirt rolled up at the forearms, but still damp at the edges nonetheless, yet he stared at me like he had no intention of changing until I was asleep.

"Go change, I want to soak for a few more minutes," I shoo him away, waving a dismissive hand.

"I'll be back to dry you off," He says, his tone falling back into that comforting, warm voice.

He shuffles out of the room, leaving the door cracked in case I need to call for him. I released a soft sigh, closed my eyes, and relaxed into the bath. Wincing slightly as a wave of pain shoots up my side. The pain tonic should kick in soon, and then hopefully I'll be able to sleep.

I rub at my eyes, exhaustion from my own body being at war with itself weighing on me with ceaseless pain. If the pain wasn't so intense I think I'd just sleep through the rest of the week.

Lucien came back in, as quiet as a cat on his feet, now changed and styled in only a pair of pajama pants. I admired the view of his bare torso in the candlelight— when I noticed the stack of clothes in his hands, as well as a towel draped over his broad, bare shoulder and a stack of more feminine products in his other hand.

"You want to dress yourself or do you need my help?" He asks as he places everything on the counter. I cringe slightly at the idea of him watching me secure my pad in my undergarments.

"I'll do it," I utter, standing from the tub and he rushes over to hand me the towel.

"Okay, I'll be just outside," He whispers, silently communicating that he didn't care what I asked him to do, and only wanted to help. I nod and take the towel from him, beginning to dry off as he leaves the bathing chamber yet again.

I move to where he had placed my clothes, noticing he had somehow selected my softest nightgown. I smiled and slipped the silky dress over my head, then put on a fresh pair of lined underwear. Once I was done I let my hair down and nearly laughed at the image of myself in the mirror. I looked horrendous, utterly terrifying. I combed my hands through my hair, attempting to create some semblance of being put together.

All the movement was beginning to make me queasy. My breath hitched as nausea began working its way up my stomach. I gripped the edge of the counter, taking a deep breath and hoping it'd fade but my body refused to lose this fight— and suddenly I was rushing towards the toilet with bile rising in my throat.

I hurled, the feeling burning my throat as tears sprang to my eyes. I didn't even hear the door open, or the rushed footsteps before Lucien's warm hand was guiding my hair away from my face and his other was rubbing soothing circles on my back.

I whimpered once the worst of it was over, my body aching as I gasped for air, wiping at my mouth and sniveling.

"I'm disgusting." I huff. "Why aren't you running for the hills by now?" I murmur, looking at my mate lazily.

"I've seen worse. Trust me, this doesn't crack the top thousand." He reassured and I let out a breathless laugh.

"Top thousand, hm? You must've led a very interesting life before you met me." I drawl, my voice weak due to the rawness of my throat.

"I don't remember much of a life before I met you." He said cheekily and I rolled my eyes.

"How can you tell me that when I've just puked half my lunch up?" I scowl.

"Because you're beautiful." He replies without missing a beat.

"Liar." I retort.

"Maybe, but it hasn't stopped me from sharing has it?" His smirk deepens.

"Pervert." I huff.

"I prefer 'Devoted Mate', but whatever you say." He continues and I frown at his insistence on being the best male I have ever met.

"I'm going to bite your face off," I warn, deciding my nausea was done wreaking havoc on my body and stumbling to my feet— which Lucien had guided me to.

"As long as you're not biting any other parts off, we're doing just fine." He jokes as I walk over to the sink, cupping my hands beneath the cool water and rinsing my mouth thoroughly.

"Careful," I cautioned while wiping my mouth. "Or I might reconsider." I smile, wrapping an arm around his bare torso and leaning on him for support as he takes us back over to the bed.

I flopped down onto the warm mattress, curling into the excessive amount of decorative pillows that I was too exhausted to throw off the side of the bed. "Oh, love," Lucien tuts, guiding me to readjust into a more comfortable position, then taking the time to remove the useless pillows from the bed. "Better?" He asks as he sits on the edge of the mattress, helping me pull the blankets higher up my body.

I nod softly. "Much better," I murmur and he smiles, his eyes flicking over to the spot he usually slept in.

"Do you want your own space tonight? I can sleep on the couch— or even the floor if you want me to." He offered after a moment of silence.

I nearly laughed. "I don't want you anywhere but right next to me," I say with a shake of my head and his shoulders slumped in relief.

"Oh good, I really did not want to sleep on the floor," He sighed while slipping into his side of the bed. I giggle, the sound turning into a groan as a piercing pain twists in my abdomen. The corners of his lips tug downward at my clear discomfort. The tonic should've begun working by now, but something told me I hurled that back up only moments ago.

"I wish there was more I could do for you." My mate said with a reassuring kiss to my temple while gathering me into his arms, pulling me into his chest, and encasing me in the scent of a crackling fire and sandalwood, the smell reminding me of being wrapped in a well wore leather coat on a crisp autumn morning.

"There is one thing you could do," I suggest slowly and he looked at me curiously, and even in the dim light I could see the devotion in his eye— the willingness to do anything I asked, silently pleading with me to just say the word.

I reach around to grab his hand that was resting on my ribs. I brought it around, guiding his palm and long fingers to cup over my lower stomach. "Mmkay, now warm it up," I mumble, his brows crease in confusion but he does as I say— and his hand feels like the first rays of the sun after a long winter.

I smile as my sharp pains ebb away from the heat, my muscles relaxing under his loving touch. "Am I just your personal heater?" He asks in a quiet voice, rubbing his thumb over the area of bare skin.

"A damned good one at that," I murmur while burrowing into his neck, craving the warmth there too. I kiss his bare collarbone, delighting in the sensation of his heated skin beneath my fingertips.

He pressed kisses to my hairline, so subtle I wouldn't have felt it if he were anyone else— but Lucien's kisses were different like each one was a piece of himself he was offering to me, heavy with the weight of his love. I pulled back from his shoulder to look up at him curiously.

"Thank you, Lucien," I whispered, my lips ghosting over his.

"Don't thank me." He shakes his head, his nose grazing mine slightly at the action. "Don't you ever thank me." He leaned closer, closing the distance between us. I melted into the feeling of his lips on mine, his hand on my abdomen growing slightly hotter as he got lost in my lips. I hum in amusement, pulling back and for a second I thought he might chase me back onto his mouth, but he remained still, staring at me with only reverence.

"I love you," I profess quietly, my hand coming up to cup his jaw, my thumb brushing over his cheekbone. "So much," I add, leaning in once more, chastely peppering kisses over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, where sun-kissed, freckled skin was.

He smiles beneath my soft kisses, his eyes shimmering with warmth and affection. "I love you too, more than words can ever express," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. The sincerity in his gaze makes my heart swell, the ache in my body momentarily forgotten in the presence of his love.

As I pull back, I rest my forehead against his, letting the moment linger. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of us cocooned in our little sanctuary. "You're so good to me," I whisper, brushing my fingers through his tousled hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," He retorts, guiding my head back into the crook of his neck. “Rest now, you need it.” His hand soothed through my hair, detangling the ends silently, the quiet intimacy of it all making my stomach twist— this time, in a good way, similar to butterflies soaring.

“Goodnight Lu,” I murmur into his warm skin, pressing one last kiss to his neck. He didn’t reply, just continued to stroke my hair as I succumbed to the warmth of his affection, the darkness of night slowly wrapping around me— and he was the flickering candlelight that lulled me to sleep, my body finally finding rest as I meet a peaceful slumber.

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[velaris-fic-repository]

Four | Weightless Kind of Love | Daylight

Pairing - Rhysand x reader

Word count - 2.2k

Warnings - None

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"Oh gods, I cannot do this."

I declared it to the forest, hands braced dramatically on my knees, chest heaving as though I'd just returned from some valiant battle.

The forest didn't care though. The trees offered no sympathy.

Sunlight filtered from above, dappling the moss and leaves with a golden shimmer that should've felt magical, but instead just felt... hot. 

Sweat clung to my temples in defiance. My once pristine and fluffed ponytail had given up completely, now a lopsided, tangled mess stuck to the back of my neck. My leathers clung to me in uncomfortable, unspeakable places.

And yet he—Rhysand stood just ahead on the trail looking like the gods themselves had carved him out of dusk and divinity. 

Shirtless, naturally. His muscles gleamed in the light, all smooth golden skin and the quiet kind of strength that shouldn't have made me want to throw something at him. 

His wings tucked neatly at his back, the breeze tousling his dark hair into a perfect storm-kissed mess. Not a single bead of sweat on him.

Smug bastard.

"Darling," he said smoothly, not even winded, "we've barely begun."

I lifted my head, locking eyes with him through what I hoped looked like pure betrayal and not just mild heatstroke. "My feet hurt. My soul hurts. I think I'm melting."

From behind, Cassian's gravel-rough voice piped in. "We've been walking for seven minutes."

He didn't even try to hide his amusement, arms crossed over his broad chest, wings flaring slightly with every laugh he was holding back.

Azriel, silent and shadow-wreathed, didn't look quite as smug but his shadows whispered around his boots, and his mouth twitched in what I was generously calling a smile. "And, need I remind you, it was your idea. You said 'we need to connect with nature and strengthen our bond' or something."

"I did no such thing," I snapped, straightening with indignation and crossing my arms under my chest.

Cassian barked out a laugh loud enough to scare a bird from a nearby tree, and even Azriel's lips twitched upwards.

"I don't like it when you all gang up on me," I pouted, twisting my mouth into the most dramatic frown I could manage.

Rhys regarded me with the patient exasperation of a male who knew exactly what he'd married into. One hand braced on his hip, the other brushing back his hair like a bored, beautiful sculpture come to life.

"We can go back," he offered. "You've made your point. You tried."

"Absolutely not" I straightened so fast I heard my back pop. "I want to see the view from the top. I will conquer this hill."

"Mountain," Azriel corrected, under his breath.

"Whatever. I will conquer it," I said again, and popped a hip for good measure.

Azriel gave me a look that was equal parts exhausted and bemused. "I can fly you up."

I scoffed wrinkling my nose. "Where's the fun in that? That's cheating."

"Then what do you want?" Cassian asked, barely hiding his amusement now, clearly enjoying the show.

I spun on my heel to Rhys and gave him my most innocent smile, which usually meant something terrible was about to happen. "Carry me."

Rhys sighed—an ancient sound, like he was already mourning the peace he'd once known but he was turning before I'd even finished the word.

"I knew you loved me," I sang as he crouched slightly, wings shifting for balance.

He didn't dignify that with a response. Just offered me his back with the long-suffering grace of a male who'd clearly accepted that this was his life now. I leapt up with glee, wrapping my arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

Cassian practically folded in half laughing, hands on his knees.

Azriel just muttered, "I don't know how you do it," though whether he meant me or Rhys, I wasn't entirely sure.

"One day, I will say no to you," Rhys muttered, hands sliding securely under my thighs.

"No," I whispered sweetly into his ear, brushing my nose along the curve of it just because I could. "You won't."

And, of course, he didn't argue.

He just stood, smooth, powerful, regal in that effortless, infuriating High Lord way and started walking up the mountain path.

Rhys carried me like I was made of feathers, his grip secure beneath my thighs, wings folded in perfect symmetry at his back. 

His steps were steady, unhurried, not even the faintest indication that he was hauling a full-grown female up a winding mountain trail. Not even a grunt. Not a hitch in his breath.

It was, frankly, offensive.

I flopped against him like the very picture of despair, my limbs dangling bonelessly as I made absolutely certain that everyone in a five-mile radius knew I was being carried.

"I'm going to die up here," I announced to the trees. "This is how it ends. Carried through the wilds of Velaris by a High Lord with an unhealthy amount of upper body strength."

"You've been on my back for five minutes," Rhys muttered.

"And it's been the hardest five minutes of my life," I shot back, wiggling just enough to make my burdened state known. "I'm sacrificing my dignity for the sake of scenic views and group bonding. I hope you're all grateful."

Cassian, who'd slowed his pace just enough to hear, snorted. "You had dignity to start with?"

I gasped. "That's rich coming from the male who oozes a lack of dignity"

I grinned, pleased with myself as Cassian scowled and rested my chin on Rhys's shoulder. His skin was warm beneath me, his scent a heady mix of starlight, cedar, and power. 

The sun glittered in his dark hair like it had been invited there, like it belonged.

I squinted ahead at the trail, eyes catching on a jagged rock formation nestled just off the path. "That rock looks like a bat."

Rhys didn't even glance up. "They all look like bats to you."

"No, that one specifically. Look at the ears. Very serious. I'm naming it Cassian."

Cassian's laughter erupted ahead of us, sharp and delighted. "You named a rock after me? I'm flattered."

"I name everything I love, Cass," I said sweetly, smiling innocently. "You're just lucky the next one isn't shaped like your ego. We'd be here till the first snowfall."

Azriel chuckled under his breath, his shadows curling lazily around his boots. "Should we be concerned she's giving the landscape personalities?"

"She's fine," Rhys answered with long-suffering patience. "It's when she starts giving them backstories that you need to worry."

I slapped his shoulder lightly. "Excuse me. I am creating an immersive experience."

"And sweating all over me while you do it," he said dryly, his voice deep and amused.

"And yet," I said dreamily, shifting slightly to rest my cheek more comfortably against him, "you still smell like moonlight and unread books and very expensive sin."

He huffed a quiet laugh, the sound reverberating through his back into my chest. "The last one doesn't even make sense."

"Neither do I," I sighed. "And yet, here I am."

Rhys didn't answer. Just kept walking at a steady, easy pace, not even out of breath. Annoying Illyrian show-off.

But I noticed the subtle shifts in his stride. How he always veered us slightly left or right to avoid low branches. How his wings tensed fractionally whenever we passed jagged rocks or a steep slope. 

He didn't look down. Didn't ask. But I felt it, that bone-deep instinct to keep me safe, even here, even like this.

His protective instincts were in full force and Cauldron curse me, but it made something warm, fluttery and dangerous bloom in my chest.

"Rhys?" I asked sweetly, already knowing he wouldn't like what came next.

"Hm?"

"If I fell off right now, do you think I'd roll dramatically down the mountain? Or would I sort of bounce like a pinecone?"

There was a long pause before he spoke. "If I drop you, will it make you quieter or louder?"

"Oh, louder. Obviously." I beamed. "I'd scream the entire way down. You'd never know peace again."

Rhys groaned again but didn't stop walking.

In fact, I realised after a moment, he was subtly veering off the main path, taking us away from a group of hikers coming up the trail. 

A few males among them had definitely been sneaking glances at me earlier, and judging by the slight flex of Rhys's grip on my thighs, he'd noticed too.

He was manoeuvring me out of view. Out of reach. Possessive and quiet and smug about it.

I liked that far more than I should have.

"I see what you're doing," I murmured against his ear, voice dipped in syrup and silk.

"Do you?" he murmured without glancing back.

"Mhm. You're playing keep-away."

"No," he said simply. "I'm playing mine."

That single word coiled in my chest. Mine.

Cassian groaned theatrically. "You two make me sick."

"We make everyone sick," I replied cheerfully, nuzzling Rhys's neck, "and that's the fun part."

We crested a final slope just as the trees opened up and the world bloomed wide and wild before us.

Velaris in the far distance, soft and shimmering like a dream. The Sidra winding like ribbon through the hills. Mountains like teeth, their edges dusted in gold and cloud-shadow. Wind rushed over the ridge, cool and sharp, carrying the crisp scent of pine and snowmelt.

I gasped. "Oh wow."

Rhys finally stopped walking. Slowly, carefully, he let me down, not a single grunt, not a sigh, just a smooth, easy motion that left me breathless in an entirely different way.

He turned to look at me, eyes glowing violet in the light.

"Remind me why I love you again?" he asked, but there was that look—like I was stars and starlight and every beautiful thing he'd ever wished for.

"Because I'm adorable," I said smugly.

And he didn't argue.

He just reached for my hand and laced our fingers together as the wind danced around us, Cassian muttered something about needing a drink, and Azriel turned quietly to hide his grin.

I stood there a moment longer, still holding Rhys's hand, drinking in the view.

The wind tugged playfully at my hair, my leathers, like even the mountain wanted a piece of me now that I'd conquered it with help, of course. Glorious, muscled, smug help.

Then I sighed, patting Rhys's arm. "Well. That was nice. I saw the view. Bonded. Suffered. Shall we go back?"

Rhys raised a brow. "Already?"

I waved a dismissive hand. "Please. I have a very full schedule of sleeping and eating. This climb will live on in legend."

Cassian barked a laugh. "You were carried."

"Exactly. And still, I survived. Now—" I turned to Rhys with a gleam in my eye "—fly me back."

He let out a low chuckle, amused and unsurprised. "Of course you want to be flown now."

"Do you see how far we came? My legs are done. Retired."

Rhys leaned closer, his voice all velvet and wicked amusement. "And here I thought you wanted to build resilience."

"I lied," I said sweetly. "I'm delicate and precious. Like a rose. A very tired rose."

Before he could respond, I tilted my head, eyes scanning lazily toward Cassian. "Actually—ooh, wait. I want to go with Cass."

Rhys's brow arched high and beside him, Azriel turned his head just enough to catch the change in the wind.

I flashed a too-bright smile. "Cass flies fast. It's fun."

Cassian puffed his chest slightly, ever the show-off. "You know I aim to please."

Rhys's jaw ticked. Just a bit.

"And—can I free fall again?" I asked, spinning to Cassian with childlike glee. "That part where you drop me and then swoop in last-second like a dramatic saviour? That was thrilling. I want that again."

Cassian's expression faltered.

He shot a glance to Rhysand, whose eyes had narrowed by a fraction—still glowing violet, still calm, but with that particular shade of calm that meant someone, somewhere, was about to suffer consequences.

Cassian cleared his throat. "Uh. I mean..."

I blinked up at him. "What? Is that a no?"

Rhys didn't speak. Just crossed his arms slowly. Deliberately.

Azriel, the traitor, took one look at the brewing tension, nodded to no one in particular, and launched into the air without a word. His shadows curled behind him like streamers of smoke as he disappeared into the clouds.

"Good luck," he called over his shoulder.

Coward.

Cassian hesitated, looking like he suddenly wasn't quite so enthusiastic about flying with me. "Maybe, uh, maybe we let Rhys do this one—"

I laughed nervously, taking a half step back toward Rhys as realisation set in. "Oops. Did I say free fall? I meant... gentle float. Graceful descent. Like a leaf on the wind."

Rhys tilted his head, studying me like a predator weighing the merits of his prey's backtracking. "I recall," he said slowly, "explicitly banning you from free-falling."

"It was one time," I muttered, already reaching for him again. "And I survived, didn't I?"

"Barely," he said flatly.

Cassian helpfully chimed in, "you screamed louder than a banshee."

"That was part of the thrill!"

Rhys just swept me up again—so fast, so fluid, I let out a surprised squeak. His arms wrapped around me tightly, possessive and grounding.

"I'm flying you back," he said smoothly, wings unfurling behind him in one magnificent sweep. "No drama. No theatrics. No 'leaf on the wind.' You'll behave, or I will drop you."

"Louder," I reminded him with a grin. "We already established it will make me louder."

He huffed a laugh, annoyed and fond and something else I felt deep in my bones.

"And you wonder why I drink," Cassian muttered as he stretched his wings behind us.

"I don't wonder," Rhys said, kicking off into the air.

The world dropped away beneath us. Wind whipped through my hair, and the mountains spun out in all directions, glorious and golden in the sun. 

And there held tight in his arms, laughing as we soared I felt like something wild and weightless. Like a leaf. Like his.

And for once, I didn't mind the lack of theatrics.

Because flying with Rhys? That was already magic enough.

A/n - I love hiking sm (yes, I'm one of those people), so naturally I had to add a little hiking adventure in this series. The characters suffered. I thrived. Balance!

Also, if you haven't noticed by now, I've been sneaking a specific little set of dialogue into every part in this series. It's kind of like an easter egg idk if it technically counts or not, I'm still calling it one :)

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Only one more part left in this mini-series. I'll try not to get emotional (no promises) <33

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[velaris-fic-repository]

Do my fic readers, commenters, and rebloggers know that I would literally die for them

[velaris-fic-repository]

What’s this? One of my favorite scenes in fiction echoed in an Azriel fic?! Beautiful!!!

⚔️ I really don't think now's the best time ⚔️

Azriel x Reader

summary: battlefields are really not the right place for important revelations.

notes: like I said, this is totally inspired by that iconic scene in Pirates of the Carribeans. there's a shit ton of fighting involved, so prepare for graphics. if you want to go all in, listen to this specific part of the soundtrack over and over again and the vibes will be immaculate. now go and have fun, kids.

______________________________________________________________

The middle of a battlefield was arguably the worst place for any kind of not remotely expected revelation.

“Why,”, gritting my teeth, I swung my sword and neatly decapitated the huge, wolf-like beast, “do they,”, dodging a blow, I dropped to my knees, whirling through the mud and slicing open another one's belly, “keep,”, I slid to my feet and finished in an angry, “coming?!”

Slashing my sword across a soldier's throat, I turned around. A gust of wind sent a splatter of rain right into my face, strands of soaked hair clinging to my cheeks as I breathed heavily, my gaze darting over the world going to shit around me, my heart rising in my chest as I tried to catch a glimpse at the familiar sight of blue blazing siphons and leathally flowing shadows.

The battlefield was complete and utter chaos. The heavy rain that had set in only shortly after the fighting began had turned the land into one huge muddy puddle, dirt splashing and covering allies and enemies alike. Our defenses were close to being overrun. In the sky, only a few Illyrians were left fighting alongside Gwyn, the only Valkyrie on the northern flank, up against gryphons with talons like iron and blood red eyes. The rest of the Illyrians had taken to the ground, now fighting side by side with the Fae warriors left on foot, but more enemies seemed to just come flooding from the North, like a never ending stream of monstrous beasts and soldiers armed to the teeth.

Something churned in my chest, and I had to fight the surge of dread rising in my chest.

Unless Feyre turned up with reinforcements soon, we were dead.

There was a call of my name, deep and thundering over the sound of battle, and when I slashed my swords over one beast's throat and raised my head, my heart tilted in a wild flutter.

Azriel kicked a soldier back before turning to look at me over his shoulder. His dark hair was soaked by the rain, mud sprinkled over his armor, the sword in his one hand and Truthteller in the other gleaming with blood. His eyes looked wild, but something flashed through them for nothing more than a second when they found mine.

“I need to tell you something!” His deep voice reverberated over the battlefield.

I sent a soldier flying with a kick to the chest and caught another's blade with my crossed ones, yelling back: “I'm a little busy at the moment!”

Slicing my swords down, I dropped to my knees, sliding over the muddy ground and taking down a row of soldiers with blades to the back of their legs before coming back to my feet, and my breath hitched, my heart dropping out of rhythm when Azriel appeared right in front of me from a cloud of shadows, wet hair curling and mud and blood spattered over his face as his eyes darted over my face, wild and almost desperate.

“It can't wait!”, he called.

Breathing heavily, I stared up at him through the rain pelting down, feeling the ache of my sore body wash over me now that I wasn't moving, and my brows furrowed as concern tightened my chest; because I had never seen him so blatantly unguarded and expressive, emotions practically swirling in his eyes.

“What –“

Azriel pushed me back, and I whirled around, deflecting a blow of a soldier coming at me as the shadowsinger rammed his daggers into another one's chest in the place I had just stood, rain running over his face and shadows rising, wrapping around a third soldier's throat.

“I really don't think now's the best time!”, I yelled, the slight absurdity of Azriel of all people deciding he needed to talk in the middle of a battlefield making my voice dip almost comically.

"This might be the only time!” Azriel's deep voice vibrated over my skin, his rough shout audible even over the roar of the rain and the clashing of weapons, and I whirled around, sword flying down on a soldier's neck and sending blood spattering.

A hand closed around my biceps and pulled me back, then I was spun around, and my heart skipped into my throat when Azriel's chest pressed into mine and he dipped his head, his eyes flying over my face as streams of rain ran over his own, and something like desperation flashed through them when he called over the war cries and clashing of weapons: “I –“

His eyes darted up as my instincts flared in warning, and we moved at the same time, his shadows throwing up a wall against a wave of ash arrows as I slid past him and threw one of my swords at the beast, huge and bear-like, leaping at us. The weapon sank into its side, causing it to crash onto the ground, and I whirled around and rammed my other sword into its throat.

“I need you to know –“ Azriel broke off again, dodging a sword and gutting the belonging soldier in one smooth movement, and I landed a kick on another soldier's back.

“Are you sure this can't wait?!”, I yelled back, diving to avoid a blow to the head and rolling off over my shoulder, sliding through the mud and baring my teeth at a beast that growled back before jumping at me, and I dipped and slit it's throat.

Azriel stabbed his daggers into another wolf-like monster, siphons blazing as he beat his wings and a wave of shadows rolled away, drowning a row of soldiers as he turned, and something staggered in my chest at the sight of him; shadows shrouding his tall, lean body and curling around his shoulders, even broader under his black armor as a flash of lightning illuminated his face.

Even caked in dirt and blood, drenched by the heavy rain as drops of water ran from his hair over his cheekbones, he was utterly and annoyingly beautiful.

“Yes!”, he called back, and I whirled around, swords slashing and reflecting another strike of lightning as thunder rolled and I knocked a soldier to the ground. “I need you to know tha–“

There was a snarl, and I dove out of the way, rolling through the mud as a beast crashed into the spot I had been in a mere heartbeat before. I pushed myself up and slammed my swords down into its back with an angry sound, then I raised my head, my heart thrumming and adrenaline rushing through my veines, and my eyes met golden ones, desperate and wild and only hesitant for a second before the chaos vanished, replaced by something else, something deep and worldshaking. Then Azriel's deep voice rumbled over the noise of the battle.

“I love you!”

The world fell still for a moment. Became quiet and stagnant as my heart did one mighty leap.

Then time fell back into place, something staggered in my chest, and my eyes grew wide.

“What?!”

Somehow, I dodged a blow crashing down out of nowhere, parrying another and directing it to the side as I slid my other blade over the soldier's throat, ramming my shoulder into his chest to push him back before turning around wide eyed, and my gaze met another, shining like amber in sunlight.

“You –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made me duck, and I swerved, dropping to my knees and sliding over the muddy ground. Ramming my swords into two soldier's lower regions, I pulled them out and used the momentum to push myself to my feet. Then I whirled around and yelled, disbelief and sheer shock making my voice rise an octave: “You what?!”

A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me forward, and I stumbled into a solid chest, my heart jumping into my throat as my head whipped up and I could feel the sensation of shadows rising behind me and heard swords dropping and a struggle. But it all felt far away, because I could feel Azriel's body press against mine and his eyes were piercing, looking wild and desperate and pained when he called over the noise of the battle, voice rough: “I love you!”

My throat closed as I opened my mouth in shock; Azriel pulled me past him, and I whirled around and parried the blows of a soldier, slicing my swords over his arms before ramming my blades into his chest, then I threw my head around, my wet hair clinging to my face, and Azriel dropped another soldier. For a second, our eyes met, mine wide and completely dumbfounded, then he dodged a blow.

“You –“ I tried to get closer to him but almost got jumped by a huge beast. Shadows wrapped around me and pulled me back, and Azriel slit a soldier's throat before looking back at me, rain running over his face and desperation flashing through his eyes as he yelled: “I had to make sure you knew!“

A war cry made me spin around, and I dodged, swerving the blow of a sword and slashing my own across the soldier's throat, blood spattering as I yelled back in almost comical disbelief: “So you're telling me now?!”

A hand wrapped around my wrist, whirling me out of a beast's reach and right into the way of a sword crashing down, my own blades catching it effortlessly. A familiar scent rose into my nose, distinct even under the smell of blood and dirt, and my heart thrummed into my throat as I pushed, my swords sinking into the soldier's chest, then I spun around, rain dripping over my skin as I stared wide eyed at the male right in front of me. He was so close that I could hear the roughness in his voice even though he didn't shout, one corner of his lips quirking almost helplessly as his eyes dragged over my face like he wanted to ingrain it into his mind when he called hoarsely: “Better late than never.”

My heart skipped into my throat as I stared up at him, and my lips parted, but then Azriel's eyes darted up, and he pulled me out of the way, his sword catching the one of an enemy soldier.

“What –“ I gutted a gigantic wolf, widening my eyes as I threw the shadowsinger a disbelieving look. “How late is late?!” I ducked, swerving the blow of a sword and ramming my own blade into the side of the soldier's neck.

“I couldn't lose you! If you knew -"

"Azriel!" My shout made his head whip around, and I stared at him, breathing heavily, feeling an ache build under my ribs as I widened my eyes desperately. "Since when?!"

"Since the day you stayed up with me for first time!” Azriel dodged a blow. “Probably even before that.” He raised his head, and something rose in my chest when his amber eyes found mine, his voice raspy when he called lightly: “Probably from the moment I met you and everything went silent.” His gaze flickered over my face, and my heart skipped and tumbled at the emotion swirling inside as he added hoarsely: “I think it's always been you.”

My throat closed up, and I kicked a beast to the side and sliced through some soldier's necks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it's you.” Even though Azriel's voice was raised, I could still hear how unsteady it was, raw as the words tumbled from his lips as he called them over the raging battle around us. “From the day I met you, there was something about you that made everything wash away, that made breathing easier, everything easier, even though you drive me insane sometimes! Something that makes me want to be with you, all the time, that makes not being with you fucking ache!” His eyes flickered over mine, chest rising and falling quickly with his heavy breaths as rain streamed over his face, and his throat worked like he was trying not to swallow.

“And it scares the shit out of me, but I don't care anymore!” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine when his amber iris found mine. “You're it.”

Something rose in my chest, fluttering so wildly it felt a little difficult to breathe.

“Why the hell did you never say anything?!”, I yelled in disbelief, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he dodged a blow, slicing the soldier's throat.

“Because I was afraid you didn't feel the same, and I couldn't lose you!”

“What?!” Rain pelted down at me, my soaked armor becoming heavier with every moment, but for a change, I didn't feel any of it. Breathing heavily, I stared at the godsdamned beautiful male, and my heart rose, rose until it was in my throat and the world turned into a tilt.

“Of course I do!”

Azriel's head whipped up, and I kicked a soldier away and slashed his throat before turning around, feeling the words echo through me as I yelled: “I love you too, you idiot!”

As the last syllable left my lips, Azriel stared. Stared as something seemed to rise in his eyes. Then darkness wrapped around him, and he appeared in front of me like formed from shadows. His amber eyes were bright with desperation and something so much deeper, it caused my breath to simply still. Caused my heart to swell and time to slow as he took one last step and slipped his arm around my waist, his scent washing over me in an intoxicating wave, his movements never faltering as he leaned down without an ounce of hesitation, and something shifted in my chest, locking into place with a soundless snap when his lips crashed onto mine in a hard, desperate kiss.

My heart pulsed once. Twice, as something bloomed under my ribs, warm and rising until it thrummed through my whole chest, pulling towards the male pressed against me, body tall and solid and unwavering, and I sucked in a soft, trembling breath.

Oh.

Slowly, Azriel broke the kiss, like he had to force himself to pull back, his nose brushing against mine and causing my heart to miss a step. Then he slowly raised his head, and my breath hitched, gave out completely for a second when I caught the way his iris shifted like amber in golden sunlight, lips parted and gaze piercing mine.

There was a war cry behind me, and Azriel's eyes snapped up, sharpening.

My heart flew, and my instincts kicked in.

Azriel pulled me out of the way with a growl, and I whirled around, swords clashing with two others, blocking their blows as I dropped to my knees and turned, and the blades found their home in the soldier's stomachs. Pulling them out, I raised my head, and my throat closed up when I saw our lines slowly beginning to unravel while the steady stream of beasts and soldiers didn't seem to waver.

My gaze found Azriel, in a cloud of shadows, teeth bared in a snarl and blades flashing in a clash of lightning, rain pelting onto his shoulders, and that feeling in my chest rose until I was sure it had to be visible, like a golden light thrumming under my ribs.

“Azriel!”, I shouted desperately, and he slammed the hilt of his sword onto an enemy soldier's head before turning around, amber eyes finding mine.

My heart tightened almost violently, and before I could stop myself, before even really thinking, I called, my voice a little weak: “Marry me?”

Azriel froze. Stilled on the spot as shadows swirled around him, catching ash arrows and knocking out soldiers, his eyes piercing mine as emotions swirled through them like the storm above.

And suddenly I knew he felt it. Maybe not yet that the bond was vibrating in my chest, thrumming in synch with my racing heart. But that he knew.

Azriel blinked against the rain pouring over his face, and I could see how he suppressed the urge to swallow. Then he shouted, his deep voice causing my heart to flutter: “Gwyn!”

My breath hitched, and Azriel's eyes pierced mine, golden and bare and burning as he yelled: “Marry us!”

“I'm a little occupied right now!”, Gwyn shouted from high above us, cursing as her winged horse barely managed to swerve around a gryphon.

A soldier came at me, and I dodged his blows, sliding my sword over his chest.

“Gwyn!”, I yelled, my voice breaking, and somehow, she must've heard it over the noise and chaos, because she yelled back, only halfheartedly annoyed: “Fine! If I fall, it's your fault!”

I landed a kick on the soldier's chest and sent him flying backwards, then I turned around, and Azriel was there, his hand wrapping tightly around my wrist as he pulled me forward until we were chest to chest, and that golden thrum in my chest soared at the way his eyes pierced mine.

“Dearly beloved,”, Gwyn yelled over the roar of thunder, “we've gathered here today to pull every single one of your feathers, you miserable excuse of a bird!”

There was an irritated screech followed by a scuffle high over our heads, and Azriel pushed me back as two enemy soldiers came at us with swords drawn. Swinging around, I sent my blade down onto the right one's hand, severing it cleanly, and as he screamed, I shoved my sword into his chest.

Azriel called my name, and when my head whipped around, his hand closed around mine, pulling me out of the way of a beast and with my back into his chest, his deep voice rumbling through my body when he shouted over the rain: “Do you take me,”, I kicked out and the beast yelped, “to be your husband?”

Slashing my sword over the beast's snout, a laugh bubbled in my chest when Azriel spun me around, and my heart rose in my chest when I stared up at him, feeling pressure build in my throat as his eyes darted over my face, almost like he was expecting me to change my mind, pull back -

“I do!”

Azriel blinked, and his eyes brightened, became as radiant as amber held into the evening sun. Something shifted in my chest when a smile spread over his face, widening with every second, until creases formed in his cheeks and crinkles around his eyes, and I had to physically fight to keep myself from burying my fingers in his messy hair and pull him in to kiss him.

There was a war cry from our left, and I widened my eyes and jumped back, feeling the a blade whizz down where I had been standing just seconds before, and Azriel growled, wings flaring and sending out a wave of shadows that took down the row of soldiers behind him as I parried the next blow and slammed the soldier to the ground.

Whirling around, I grabbed Azriel's outstretched hand and yelled: “Do you take me,”, I ducked under his arm and blocked a blow, “to be your wife?” Azriel pulled me back, parrying the next as I stabbed my sword into another soldier's stomach. “On the good days and the bad; though,”, smoothly slicing the soldier's throat, I growled, “we might not see a lot more!”

Azriel's grip tightened, and he twirled me around, pulling me out of the way of another soldier, and my heart fluttered violently when my chest pressed into his and that golden feeling thrummed when Azriel nodded, eyes darting over my face and deep voice hoarse when he called over the rain: “I do!”

My breath hitched and heart fluttered, the feeling in my chest rising, and above us, Gwen yelled: “Then hereby, you may be bound! Bound by soul, bound by heart, bound to one!”

There was a flare of heat in the middle of my chest, and my breath hitched when Azriel's grip tightened like he felt it too; the burning of a tattoo appearing on his skin, the sign of the vows made visible in ink.

Gwyn's voice echoed through the skies when she yelled: “You now may –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made Azriel and me dart apart.

“You now –“

I dodged a blow, Azriel's hand closing around mine and spinning me around to parry another as his sword clashed with a third.

“You may kiss the –“

Thunder struck, I ducked under a beast's claw, then Gwyn shouted in frustration: “Godsdamnit, just kiss her!”

My heart surged and skipped and Azriel pulled me around; his arm wrapped around my waist as mine slipped over his shoulder and I could feel him dipping me back lightly as he leaned down, then he kissed me.

Kissed me as rain poured down our faces, my free hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck and my breath hitching as I kissed back, deep and desperate, and a hoarse sound rumbled in Azriel's throat as he tightened his grip around me, kissing me like it was the first and last time.

The sound of a horn ripped me back into reality, reminding me that the world was close to ending.

Azriel pulled me back up onto my feet, breaking the kiss, and I was thankful that he was just as out of breath as I was, could feel his heart pounding just as quickly. Then he raised his head, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high as relief so kneebuckling washed over me, I was glad Az was still holding me.

The cavalry had arrived.

“Come on, you two!”, Gwyn yelled somewhere above us, sounding gleeful. “Let's finish this!”

I raised my head, and Azriel's arm slipped away from my waist, amber eyes finding mine. For a second, I could see something flash through his gaze, like he expected me to pull back, suddenly regret this.

But I just sent him a wide, wicked smile.

“Shall we?”

~

It was still raining, but the storm had moved on. In the west, the clouds were breaking up, allowing the light of the sinking sun to flood over the lowlands, making the light rain shimmer as a rainbow spanned across the sky.

Breathing in deeply, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as I felt the rain drizzle onto my face and body, washing away the smell of blood from the air and only leaving the scent of wet grass and moss to fill my nose with every slow inhale.

Feyre's arrival with the reinforcements had turned the tide, every last warrior gathering all their remaining strength. Still, there had been many losses, even after our victory, and wandering through the bloody mud, paying respect to the fallen, had caused a weight to rest on my chest, one that could not even be brushed away by the knowledge that my friends, my family was alive; exhausted and strained and with quite a few scratches, but alive.

Which was why I was standing on a hill, a little away from the tents, just listening to the patter of rain and breathing in the clean air as I felt the tension slowly melt from my muscles, leaving only exhaustion and heaviness in my limbs and a feeling of being so tired, I felt like falling asleep on the spot.

I felt him before I heard the call of my name, the feeling in my chest that had shrunk to a small, warm hum pulsing and growing.

Tipping my head back down, I looked over my shoulder, and my breath hitched when Azriel came towards me.

Just like me, he was still in his armor, specks of mud and blood on his cheeks, hair damp and curling like he had attempted to dry it and then got distracted. His dark brows were drawn together as his golden eyes pierced into mine.

“What are you doing?”, he called, his low, deep voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

He looked so close to his usual scowl, I felt my heart rise and skip as my lips curved up.

“Cleansing,”, I called back, and Azriel huffed, but it almost looked like he was fighting to keep his lips from twitching as he crossed the last bit of distance.

Turning around, I squinted up at him through the drizzle of rain, the thrumming thing in my chest soaring at the sight of him.

Godsdamned beautiful.

Up close, I could see the signs of exhaustion. His shadows were lazily swirling around his feet, his wings were drooping so much they almost grazed the ground, and his eyes were tired. But something sparked in them when they moved over my face, my heart skipping when I could feel his warm breath brush over my forehead.

“You know we have this ingenius invention for that? It's called a shower.” His voice was so dry, my heart skipped, and a smile slowly spread over my face, wide and bright and freeing in a way that caused something to stagger in my chest.

Azriel's eyes narrowed in, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little.

“I know.” Squinting up at him, I felt my smile grow smaller as I shrugged softly, something tightening gently in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, and my heart fluttered into my throat when he reached out, gently pushing a wet strand of hair out of my face. His fingers, out of his gloves, brushed over my skin, warm and rough, and my breath hitched, a shudder running over my spine.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, and that thing in my chest pulsed and thrummed at the way his golden eyes started to shine.

The shadowsinger dipped his head, and my heart skipped and jumped when his lips brushed over mine. Then his thumb and forefinger gently closed around my chin, and Azriel tilted my head back to kiss me, deep and slow until I sank into his chest, my knees simply too tired to keep up with the way all of him made the world spin. My fingers curled into his sides, and Azriel's other hand rose to move to the back of my neck, gently tangling in my hair, and his thumb brushed over my skin until a soft sound broke from the back of my throat and my whole body shuddered.

Azriel's lips curved up against mine. Then he slowly pulled back, and my heart skipped when I saw his eyes, lids heavy and iris hazed over, the only thing betraying him; showing that I had more than the same effect on him that he had on me.

The thought made something rise and flutter in my stomach.

I blinked. Then I furrowed my brows and mumbled: “Crap.”

Azriel's gaze cleared a little, brows drawing together, and his hand slipped down to rest against the side of my neck. “What?”

I stared past him into nothing.

“I just realised we have to explain to Rhys and Cass that we got married without them.”

[velaris-fic-repository]

I'm just saying, if I gotta face Rhysand using daemati powers on me imma just project thought of him kissing Beron until he gets those ebony claws outta my skull. No mental wards? No problem!

[velaris-fic-repository]

One | The Sweetest Sins | Daylight

Pairing - Rhysand x reader

Word count - 2.2k

Warnings - None

|| series masterlist || next ->

Being mated to the High Lord of the Night Court was, according to nearly everyone in Prythian, a feat reserved for the most poised, powerful, and mysterious females alive.

Graceful. Elegant. A walking embodiment of shadows and seduction.

And then there was me.

Where Rhysand was a symphony of control—velvet words, razor-sharp smiles, and the ability to turn silence into a weapon. I was... considerably less so. 

A one-woman whirlwind of untamed commentary, emotionally driven decisions, and the attention span of a magpie in a gemstone shop.

The Night Court hadn't known what hit it. Honestly, I wasn't sure Rhys had either.

At the very least, he never admitted it out loud.

Tonight, the long table in the House of Wind gleamed beneath soft golden faelight, platters of food scattered across its polished mahogany surface like offerings before gods. 

The air buzzed with the scent of roasted meats, spiced vegetables and the soft whisper of wind through the arched windows.

Rhysand sat to my right, a portrait of composed elegance in black. His attention flicked lazily between his plate and the conversation around him, every movement precise, practised. 

The silver circlet in his dark hair that I had insisted he wore caught the candlelight as if even starlight bowed to him.

Meanwhile, I vibrated beside him full of energy.

Cassian lounged across from us, already three glasses in and visibly bracing himself for the storm that was me. 

Azriel nursed his drink with quiet vigilance, shadows curling lazily at his shoulders like they, too, were eavesdropping.

"So," I continued brightly, "I told him, 'If you hate females so much, your father must have given birth to you.' And he didn't laugh. I mean—come on. That's good, right?"

Cassian barked out a laugh so loud he nearly choked. "You did not say that."

"Swear it," I said solemnly.

Azriel made a quiet, strangled sound, somewhere between a chuckle and a groan while still looking at me like I was a particularly amusing wildfire. 

Probably wondering whether to douse me or let me burn.

Next to me, Rhysand didn't say a word. He simply reached over, calm and sure, and twisted a lock of my hair gently around his finger. 

A silent tether. A quiet reminder that he was listening, always but more importantly, that he adored me exactly like this.

Just that little hum of amusement—the kind that said, You're ridiculous, but you're mine.

Honestly, that had been the exact energy the first time we met.

I'd been dangling upside down from the shelves of a particularly large library in Velaris. I had my reasons, of course. One of which involved a particular book I just had to get my hands on and a very angry, very large librarian who'd chased me up there with fury.

I was laughing because panic does that to me sometimes when Rhysand appeared below in a sweep of darkness and tailored perfection, looking up at me like I was mad.

"You do realise," he had said, casually folding his arms, "that beam is weight-rated for manuscripts, not mad females."

"I'm testing structural integrity," I called back, trying to sound dignified as blood rushed to my head. "For... Night Court security."

He had tilted his head. Smirked. And then I had felt it—

A tug. Gentle, invisible, unmistakable. A golden thread sliding into place, stitching something warm and ancient into my ribs.

The bond. It didn't snap—it sang.

And I knew that he'd felt it too.

Because one second I was contemplating the dangers of gravity, and the next I was in his arms, shadows coiling around us like a curtain drawn between the rest of the world.

"You're mad," he had murmured, voice curling in amusement as he tucked a stray strand of my hair away from my face

"You caught me," I had whispered back. It was all I could manage in the moment.

His eyes had burned like starlight when he spoke his next words. "You're mine, after all."

And now, seated beside him, I still wasn't sure if he'd ever recovered from that first moment.

Poor High Lord.

But then again... he had kept me.

"You're glowing again," Cassian said, mouth full of food. "Did you go snooping around Helion's library again or is it just post-mating glow?"

I blinked innocently at him. "Or maybe I'm just hot, Cass."

"Or delusional," Azriel muttered, eyes still on his wine.

I stuck my tongue out at both of them like the picture of maturity and leaned dramatically into Rhysand's side. 

He, of course, remained stoic, like a marble statue that had been mildly inconvenienced by a mischievous bird. A bird now stealing food.

With zero remorse, I reached across his plate and speared a glistening honey-roasted carrot with the wrong fork.  My fork. His plate. Classic.

"Are you going to eat your own food... or just all of mine?" Rhys asked lazily, tipping his chin toward his now empty side of the plate like he hadn't already predicted this outcome.

I blinked at him with round, doe-like eyes. "Are you gonna eat yours?"

There was a pause, just long enough to imply this was far from the first time we'd had this conversation. Then, with the patience of a male who had clearly accepted his fate, Rhys exhaled, slow and deep.

Cassian snorted into his glass. "She's like a raccoon in a pretty dress."

"She's been stealing my meals since our first dinner together," Rhys said mildly, as if he hadn't already resigned himself to this fate centuries ago.

"You weren't eating your asparagus!" I declared. "And I was hungry."

"Whatever you want, darling" he replied.

I grinned triumphantly, commandeering Rhys's entire plate like a conquering general and stabbing another carrot. "I think we should introduce Nuala and Cerridwen into our marriage."

Cassian choked on his wine. Azriel didn't even bother pretending not to listen now.

Rhys barely blinked. "And why's that, darling?"

"So we can always have access to food like this." I popped the carrot into my mouth and let out a completely inappropriate moan. "I could die happy with a tray of these beside me."

Cassian leaned back in his chair, smirking. "If you two are looking for a third, you don't have to look far."

I waved a dismissive hand. "Nuala and Cerridwen would make it a third and a fourth, Cass. Keep up please."

Rhysand nodded sagely. "She's not wrong."

Then, just to add insult to injury, he scooped up a spoonful of velvety pudding, the good kind, the one I'd been eyeing since we sat down and held it up to me in offering.

I puckered my lips dramatically. He groaned like I was killing him slowly, but still fed it to me. 

The pudding was creamy and spiced just right, and I gave another content sigh that made Azriel shoot a look toward the ceiling like he was begging for the Mother's mercy.

Rhys's hand slid to my waist, and with zero warning, he pulled me into his lap.

"Keep stealing my food," he murmured near my ear, voice as low and dangerous as it was teasing, "and I'll have to exact revenge. Slowly."

I turned in his arms, grinning with no shame whatsoever. "Ooh, terrifying. What are you gonna do? Feed me dessert until I surrender?"

Rhys's smirk curved slowly, dark and full of promise. The kind of expression that said he'd already thought of a dozen ways to ruin me—sweetly, slowly, delightfully. 

"Something like that," he murmured, voice low and velvet-smooth.

His fingers brushed just beneath the edge of my shirt—nothing improper, but possessive. And warm. Gods, he was always so warm.

"Come taste," I whispered, voice curling with mischief as I scooped another bite of the rich, spiced pudding. I held it up to my mouth, licking the spoon slowly before popping it between my lips with a sinful little hum.

Rhysand's eyes gleamed, half-lidded and amused. But I wasn't done.

I leaned in, a whisper of movement, and pressed my mouth to his.

The kiss was soft at first, teasing. My lips brushed against his with a slow, deliberate slide, like caramel melting on the tongue. Then I parted them slightly, just enough for the taste of sugar and cinnamon to linger between us.

Rhys responded immediately.

His mouth deepened the kiss, tongue slipping past my lips to steal the sweetness right from me. It wasn't frantic, not rushed just a deliberate claiming, a savouring. 

Like I was the dessert now, and he had every intention of devouring me slowly.

The whole table seemed to vanish. The candlelight, the food, even the cold mountain air. There was only Rhysand, kissing me like he was drinking in something he'd been thirsting for all day. 

Like I was his home, his heat, his grounding point.

He pulled back an inch, barely enough for breath, his lips still grazing mine. His eyes were molten, voice low and hoarse when he spoke.

"Delicious."

Cassian groaned dramatically flopping back in his chair. "I'm going to be sick."

"Lovesick pups," Azriel muttered under his breath, though the smallest hint of a smile ghosted across his face.

But I didn't care. Because Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, kept holding me like I was his greatest victory... and I was still eating his pudding.

"You're mine, darling," he murmured, thumb brushing across my waist like he couldn't stop touching me. "Even if I lose every meal to you, I'll still count myself lucky."

"Good," I whispered back, chest pressed against his, "because I'm keeping you."

With that, I slid off his lap in one smooth bounce of motion, practically vibrating with renewed energy. Like the kiss had been a jolt of sugar to my bloodstream rather than something to slow me down. 

My legs barely hit the floor before I tugged on Rhys's arm, wide-eyed and ready for chaos.

"C'mon," I chirped, full of mischief, "let's go do something fun."

Rhys didn't even blink. Just one perfectly arched brow lifted as he looked down at me like I was an adorable storm cloud wrapped in silk. "Fun?"

I tugged again on his hand, already halfway out of the chair before I halted mid-motion and turned back toward the table, eyes wide. "Oh! Wait—grab the pudding."

Rhys blinked slowly. "The pudding?"

"Yes, obviously." I looked at him like he was the unhinged one. "You think I kissed you just because I like you? No, no. I intend to lick the rest of that pudding off you next."

There was a beat of silence.

Cassian made a strangled sound. "There goes my dinner," he muttered, shoving back his chair as if he couldn't get away fast enough.

"I don't need to hear that," Azriel added flatly, already vanishing into the shadows like the spirits of his patience had finally fled his body.

A swirl of red and gold flashed at the edge of the dining room.

"I do," Mor said, breezing into the room with a glass of something sparkling and undoubtedly strong in her hand. Her golden curls bounced with each step as she flashed a wicked grin. "Please tell me someone's taking notes."

I grinned and threw my arms out dramatically. "Mor! Save me from these overgrown bats!"

She snorted. "Darling, if I tried to save you, you'd just end up dragging me into your chaos."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

She came over, kissed the top of my head in greeting, and winked at Rhys, who gave her an arched brow and the faintest nod—some amused form of communication that probably meant we love her, but she's your problem now.

Then she turned, already backing toward the door with her drink in hand and mischief still sparkling in her eyes. "Sorry, darling. I'm heading back out. There's a wine-soaked rooftop and three dancers waiting for me."

I gasped, placing a hand to my heart. "Without me?"

"You're otherwise occupied," she said over her shoulder, eyes twinkling. "Have fun doing... whatever it was you planned on doing."

Cassian made another strangled sound. "I'm begging you all—stop saying things that make me picture them doing things."

"Then stop listening," I said sweetly.

"Then stop narrating," Azriel's voice echoed faintly from a distant shadow.

Rhys, for his part, didn't even flinch. Didn't look surprised. If anything, he just let out a low, amused breath, like he'd predicted this from the moment I sat down.

He tilted his head, ever so slightly, and the corner of his mouth curved in that lazy, lethal smirk that made knees weak across courts.

"You want to lick dessert off your High Lord?" he asked, voice silk-wrapped sin.

"I always want to lick dessert off you," I replied sweetly, tugging him toward the hallway with both hands wrapped around his wrist like a leash. "And you keep letting me, so really, who's to blame here?"

Rhys's laugh was low and indulgent. "One day, I will say no to you."

"No, you won't."

He didn't argue.

Instead, he reached back with his free hand, grabbed the little silver dish of pudding with a dramatic flourish, and held it aloft like a trophy. "Lead the way, trouble."

I beamed.

And as we strolled out of the dining room hand in hand, with the pudding held in one of Rhys's hands and my shoes clicking too loudly on the marble floors, I felt his gaze drift back to me. 

Steady. Fierce. So full of love it made my steps stutter.

And somewhere behind us, Cassian was probably still gagging, Azriel was probably begging the Mother for patience, and dinner had ended in complete romantic chaos.

But Rhysand—High Lord of the Night Court walked beside me like the stars had never burned for anything else.

Maybe power didn't need poise. Maybe what it needed was balance. Not a perfect High Lady, but a storm to match the sea. 

Someone who'd burn the world down with laughter and rebuild it with love.

And Rhysand... Rhysand had always known how to hold fire.

A/n - First part in what's going to be a very fluffy, chaotic, love-drenched series!

This part is all about setting the tone—a warm, messy introduction to the dynamics between them and how their bond snapped into place :)

Thank you so much for reading and please don't hesitate to share your thoughts, I genuinely love reading your comments across all platforms. <33

Daylight tag list - @sttvrdustt @thirstyroses-world

[velaris-fic-repository]

gif cred belongs to @xzeniax

requested by @rosieyama "if its not too much to ask could i pls have rhysand x reader fluff? 🙏 hes my favorite ml ever and i yearn for the bat boy lmao. something like reader was visiting family for a week without him and finally comes back? whatever you want to do i love all your works 🫶"

warning EXTREMELYY suggestive themes

imagine rhysand getting handsy with you after you return from a trip

rhysand opened the door of your shared home before you could even raise your hand. "oh- good morning, rhys," you smiled, chuckling.

he just smiled at you and leaning against the doorframe like it was any other day, as if he hadn't raced to greet you before you even got inside. "hello, darling," he greeted, tilting his head at you. you got a rush in your chest, like it was the beginning of your relationship all over again where all of his sultry gimmicks worked on you every time. "did you have a nice week with your sister?"

"i did," you nodded with amusement. "now, is there any reason you're flirting with me in my own doorway? or can i drop my bags in our room?"

"well, if you're in a rush, then sure." rhys admired the sight of you in the morning sunlight for another moment before taking your bags from your hands and stepping out of your way. you just shook your head with a smile.

"glad to see the place wasn't torn apart by the men," you nodded, just barely glancing around the family home. instead of getting the sarcastic response you expected, you felt his magic ghost over and warm your lower back.

"what is going on with you?" you laughed out, spinning to face him and planting your hands on his shoulders. he was still smirking down at you, hands moving to your waist unhurriedly. you were tempted to tease him for being so touchy after only a week apart, but the love in his eyes when he looked down at you stole those words from your mouth. "why are you flirting with me like we're 200 again?"

rhys shrugged, backing you slowly into the door you just entered through. "i missed you. i forgot how much i need a break from my brothers sometimes, and those breaks are so much better spent when they're with you."

"ohh, you just want in my pants," you teased, narrowing your eyes as he pressed you into the door gently, lips ghosting over yours in a way that made your breath hitch.

"i'm not sure how you came to that conclusion, but i would be cruel if i didn't appease that thought, don't you think?"

[velaris-fic-repository]

My Money Is Your Money

Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

Summary: You steal Rhysand's card and use it pay for your date, completely oblvious to the fact he already knows about it. (based off this cute asf instagram reel I saw, I wish I saved it to tag the creator argh!!)

Word Count: 915

Tags: Fluff, Mentions of hyper-independence from trauma. Money kink? (does this count as a money kink??) not proofread, suggestive

A/N: i know i said i’d be MIA because of finals…..and i should definitely be working on my spanish paper instead. But i needed a little rhysand fluff 🤗 check this post out to see my upcoming projects for when school returns my sanity.

acotar masterlist | main masterlist

Rhysand knew. 

Of course he knew. 

He didn’t survive several hundred years as a High Lord without exceptional observational skills.

But he didn’t say anything, he loved that mischievous smile as you snuck around your shared home even if it was at his own expense. 

By the time dinner rolled around he wasn’t surprised when you smirked at him. “It’s ok baby I got it.” You said reaching into your extremely small purse when the check came that he of course bought for you on your anniversary. Usually he fought you on it. He was always fighting you to pay for you. 

It had only been a few years of your courtship and then eventually matehood and Rhysand was in a constant battle against your money trauma. You had a fierce independent streak and letting someone else provide for you was deeply unsettling for you and watching you slowly lean on him as he continued to win against your past wounds filled him with a strong male pride. 

He knew you could take care of yourself. But he also knew that’s not what you needed despite your words. So he just smiled, “No.” He said simply. If he didn’t push back a little then this whole thing would be over before it started and he couldn’t wait to see how much you thought you could get away with it. 

“You owe me, once a month I get to pay.” 

“Is that the rule now?” He smirked, his low tone running over your body and making an excited thrill run up your spine. 

“Mhm Hmm.” You said simply and Rhysand couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, just once this and don’t be thinking you won’t be making it up to me later.” That sultry tone rolled over you again and you did your best to ignore it shifting slightly in your seat as your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Wars not lasting as long as the debate you’d two would get into over the check. 

He let you pay for lots of things by yourself, you paid for your craft supplies, bought gifts for your friends and family, went to the markets and he pretended to throw a fit every time. Even though he weekly deposited money into that ‘secret’ account, having his accountant fudge the numbers so you wouldn’t know what was going on. 

But actually seeing you use his card was something else entirely and he ignored the way his cock stirred, admiring your victorious smile as you pulled it out fast, fingers attempting to cover it as you handed it to the waitress. 

Throughout your entire evening out in Velaris you paid with his card and Rhysand couldn’t help the thrill of watching you use his money to do it especially after all the work he’d done to push back the walls you kept from him truly and openly providing for you.

He was proud. Of you, mostly but also proud of himself for being in such a position you could swipe that card without a care in the world. He just wanted all your needs to be met and one of the ways he could do that was with his bank account. 

He pretended to fight you throughout the night. “Baby we talked about this.” He warned but you were already reaching into your purse and swiping it across the card reader before the street vendor handed you two steaming croissants. 

You did it again for drinks and then again for another pastry that had been calling to you and then again when you saw a pretty bouquet from a cart tucked away in the cobbled streets. 

He fucking loved every second of it. 

Later that night as you both got ready for bed Rhysand sat up in bed, preparing himself to say something but you were already crawling into his lap and he set the book down, giving you his full attention as his hands settled on your waist. 

“I have a confession to make.” 

“What is it pretty girl?”

You reached into your pyjama pockets, pulling out the heavy black card and setting it on the nightstand. “I used your card all night.”

Warmth settled in his chest. “Well that’s what it’s there for.” 

“You’re not mad?”

He shook his head no immediately, almost offended at the suggestion. 

After a few beats of silence passed as you studied him. “You knew.”

Rhys smiled -gods he was always doing that around you- “Of course I knew, it was quite adorable.” 

“And…again you're not mad?”

Rhysand growled, now he really was offended, he flipped you both so you were laying underneath him and a small squeak escaped your mouth at the sudden movement. Maybe you’d been testing him, maybe you were just fucking with him, either way he didn’t care. 

“No baby, I’m not mad, in fact that’s the only card you’ll be using from now on.”

He could practically taste the protest simmering on your tongue and before a single syllable could escape he slammed his mouth to yours unable to ignore his growing hunger anymore that had been gnawing on him all night. You spending his money meant you accepted him, trusted him, you finally let yourself soften and after getting a taste of that he was never going back to whatever bullshit with your accounts that had been set up before. 

You were fucking perfect and his and he would do whatever it took make sure it remained that way. 

[velaris-fic-repository]

Ring

Rhysand x Ace!Reader

A/N: Happy Pride to everyone but especially to my ace community! I see you and I love you!

“Darling?” Rhys said, rousing you from your near dozing. The two of you were curled up on the massive bed, snuggling together in a pre-sleep state. He’d been rubbing soothing circles along your arm, slowly working down to your right hand, which he now held aloft, inspecting.

“Hm?” you drowsily responded.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about this,” he held up your hand so you could see and pointed to the simple black ring on your middle finger. It was the only ring he’d ever seen you wear.

You had been dating for a long while, but had never engaged in any… you know. You were beyond thankful for that, seeing as you were a particular brand of asexual.

Asexuality, and many other queer identities were not new or strange in Velaris. Rita’s was a haven of community for you all, as was the various arts districts that made the city shine.

That didn’t mean you and others of various identities did not face adversity here and there. You’d been screamed at and mocked for your orientation before, when you’d been brave enough to share.

Your lack of sexual attraction extended to a general distaste for sex in general. Nothing beyond the connection appealed to you, something you could easily get from romance alone.

You hadn’t told Rhys yet. You were scared. You’d been burned before and Cauldron help you, you didn’t think you’d be able to weather losing him.

But, honesty was important, so you sighed shakily.

“Darling?” Rhys asked, concerned.

“No, I need to get this out, just let me okay, love?”

He nodded once. You exhaled, breathing a little easier now.

You let your hand remain in Rhys’s, twisting it to give him a better look at the ring.

“This is my ace ring. It’s a symbol of my asexuality. Our community has about a million different signals for each other and this is one of them. A black ring on the right middle finger. Aromantics have a similar thing, a white ring on the left. People of both orientations sometimes wear both.”

Rhys took your following silence to be room for him to search for clarification. “But you only wear the black one.”

“Right. Because I’m asexual, not aromantic.”

“And sometimes it’s assumed they’re the same thing?” Rhys guessed.

You exhaled a sharp, emotionally laden breath, one that spoke of past pain, “yes.”

Rhys sighed, pulling your hand closer, kissing the back of your middle finger specifically.

“I love you, nothing could ever change that. You know that, right?”

You raised silver lined eyes to his, “even if I never want to-“

Rhys cut you off with a soft, loving kiss. When you parted, foreheads resting together, he said, “Darling, I fell in love with you. Anything you grant me is more than enough for me. I love you more than a single act.”

With his other hand he brushed your tears away with a thumb. “What’s wrong, love?”

“No, these are good,” you sniffed, “it’s just… I’ve never been with someone who understood.”

“Oh darling,” he said softly, kissing you once more. It was a kiss that spoke of a bone deep love, of unwavering support, and profound understanding and acceptance.

You had a feeling you’d never have to worry about your what-if statements ever again.

[velaris-fic-repository]

Kitchen Staff

Summary: Azriel’s shadows help you prepare a very special breakfast.

Warnings: None

“Now where did I put that…” A puff of white flour hazes your vision and you sneeze, waving your hand about wildly to clear the particles from the air. Wisps of inky black shadow hand you a whisk, before attempting to measure out a portion of the contents within the flour sack. You say attempted because, in their haste, your volunteer sous chefs overshot the cup and spilled on the counter.

You smirk. “I hope you’re not this clumsy in the dungeons. I can’t imagine Azriel would be pleased if his captive got away because you forgot to tighten the restraints.”

The shadows seemed to shrink back, scattering to the corners of the House of Wind’s kitchen like children being scolded. Your heart ached in your chest and you held out your palm as a peace offering. “Hey. Come here.”

The shadows slowly inched forward until they were curled up in your palm, eventually coiling around your wrists and working their way up your arm. A chuckle escaped you when you felt the cool touch of their featheight kisses against the shell of your ear. “I’m sorry guys, we’re just on a tight schedule. Azriel is due home today from Autumn and I haven’t even got these pastries in the oven yet.”

It was a debated topic among even those closest to Azriel, weather or not his shadows abided in his will alone or if they were autonomous beings. From what your experienced, they seemed to have their own agenda, as a handful of them always opted to stay behind with you whenever Azriel went out on missions. At first, he tried to force them along, but they disobeyed. You’ll never forget the shocked expression on his face when he came to that realization: they had disobeyed him for the first time. To this day, remaining by your side in his absence is the only scenario in which the shadows have gone against the will of their singer. Not long after that, the bond snapped, and Azriel informed you of the tongue lashing his shadows had given him for being slower to perceive you as his mate than they had been.

They knew. They always did. They were the only ones privy to the long nights their master had spent alone in the dark over the centuries. The only beings to know the truth behind his excuses of working late to avoid going to Rita’s when the Inner Circle had invited him. The only ones to stand with him in the corner of the crowded living room during Winter Solstice. They were the darkness that finally covered the mirror in Azriel’s bedroom when he’d spent too long standing before it, glaring daggers at the reflection of his scarred hands.

His shadows were only entities who understood his internal plea for a mate. For someone to love him in the way his brothers got to experience with their mates. A female whose warm embrace he could find comfort in at the end of the day, whose laughter would brighten the dull space within him, and whose heart would sing to his in a sacred bond. That is what he found in you, and he was thrilled.

By extension, so were his shadows, which is why you came downstairs this morning to find a cookbook flipped to a raspberry pastry recipe layed out on the counter.

“So they heard us talking last night. And you were worried it’d be too soon for you to propose to accept the bond.” Cassian grinned when he walked in behind you, a mug of tea appearing before him. “You could just have the house make it for you.”

“Yeah, but I think the gesture would be more personal if I made them myself.” You glanced at the shadows, who were mashing a bowl of raspberries and sugar into a thick filling. “I think they wanted to help. They did go through the trouble of pointing out Azriel’s favorite dessert to me, after all.”

You began to hum softly while kneading the dough, absently watching the purple sunrise crest the mountain tops through the window. Rhys already had the cabin set up for you and Az, a shiver of anticipation running up your spine at the thought. Delicious possibilities for the next two weeks flashed through your mind, biting your bottom lip to prevent the smirk from breaking through. Until—

“Ow!” Cassian stumbled back, clutching his pinky. “One of those bastards bit me… or scratched me. Or whatever the hell they do.”

You laughed, pushing past the pouting general to fill the pastry shells and place them in the oven. “They’re not yours Cass.”

“I just wanted a taste of the filling.” He crossed his arms.

“If there’s any left, you’re welcome to them. Now I’ve got to set up. Az will be home soon.”

Cassian lingered, a smug expression plastered across his features. He open his mouth, no doubt aiming to utter a vulgar comment, when the Shadows shut the door in his face.

…

Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever flown so quickly in his life, or that a three day mission to the Autumn court could feel so gut wrenching. Every moment that he was away from you left his soul aching, the golden tether pulling unbearably tight and demanding your closeness. He missed it all; your scent, your touch, your smile. His body practically vibrated by the time he landed on the balcony of the House of Wind and his stray shadows met him at the door.

“Love?” He called out, scanning the interior of the sitting room. Azriel furrowed a brow when his shadows began drifting towards the kitchen, seemingly gesturing for him to follow them there. “Are you—“

Azriel’s words died in his throat and he halted where he stood. Auburn rose petals, courtesy of his shadows, created a path to where you stood, holding a tray of the pastries that would seal both of your fates.

“Azriel… will you be my mate?” Your voice was so soft, as if you’d be concerned that he’d respond with anything less than a resounding yes, and the hope shining in your eyes nearly made him fall to his knees.

The Shadowsinger walked towards you on shaking legs, raising a palm to cradle your cheek. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

[velaris-fic-repository]

WIP Tag Game

Tagged by my own Fourth Wing Account @myhouse-mychair-myfics

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

1. A Performance of Jealousy

2. I Want to Build

3. Sister

4. The Boyfriend

5. What The Tide Brings In Part Eight

6. A Daemati Lullaby

I’ll tag some of my favorite authors in the fandom: @nightcourtnovels @surielstea @pellucid-constellations @batboysanonymous @hellcat8908 @inkedinshadows

[velaris-fic-repository]

Thought of a funny Azriel interaction I may use one day:

“So… What? You just know shit?”

“I know all the shit.”

[velaris-fic-repository]

Starry Night Orchids | Chapter 1

Nyx x Eris’s Daughter!Reader

A/N: This was so fun to write oh my goodness!

Court politics | Courtship politics | Courtly scheming| A spoiled brat pushes reader’s buttons| A very good boy| Lucien’s the best | Eris is a good dad

Nyx stared at the hound with wide eyes. “Does she bring that thing fucking everywhere?”

Merrick, Tarquin’s son, heir to Summer, and Nyx’s honorary cousin by way of Amren and Varian’s common-law marriage, gulped beside him, “since he was big enough to go with her, yes.”

The terrifying terror of a hunting dog heeled at your feet had been a present from your father several years ago. A hound you could raise yourself for whatever purpose you wished. Many in your court - remnants from the days of the grandfather you never had the misfortune of meeting - had expected you to raise the pup as an adorable furry friend like the foxes you had a habit of feeding. Something they thought befit their opinion of what a High Lord’s daughter should be.

You had raised a furry friend alright, just one more suited for physical and social battles than walks through the woods.

In secret you babied Wolfe, but he was a smart dog. He understood that while you loved him, and behind closed doors would give him all the scritches and kisses he wanted, there were times and places for different kinds of work. This Autumn Equinox ball was one of them.

Your father, Eris, had done a great deal of work in the Autumn Court after the truly unfortunate demise of your grandfather. Not that you were alive to see those immediate changes.

He’d told you that he wanted to make the court a better place for many people. Your grandmother - though she lived in Day now - your Uncle Lucien, your mother, you.

But while Autumn had mostly turned from a court of teeth and fire to one more focused on the glories of your season, there was still a reputation to uphold. Many of the High Lords suspected that Beron’s rule had not ended peacefully. And as much as they may prefer Eris to your late grandfather, they were still just a bit wary of your family.

Your father never wanted you, his heir and beloved daughter, to ever bow or shrink for anyone. So posturing and baring your teeth, as it were, is what you did. Many in Prythian were mildly unnerved by you and Wolfe, and you liked it that way. Their momentary apprehension fueled you, made you feel confident in the power you already had.

Even if, often, you wished someone would see the heart of you. The way your mother had with Eris.

You looked up from your assessment of the room, eyes alighting on Nyx and Merrick watching you from across the crowded hall. You grinned at them scratching behind Wolfe’s ear, relishing in the discomfort in the Summer Court heir.

Nyx however, knew a little more about your family history than Merrick. Your uncle was his mother’s close friend even if the bond with his aunt didn’t pan out. And he knew exactly how your father got the throne, and how different a male Eris was from what he showed most of Prythian.

There was a deadly edge to your smile, but Nyx found himself unbothered by it. He knew the roles his family has played before. He’d come to recognize similar performances in others.

He scrunched his nose up skeptically your way. If you wanted to throw him off kilter, you’d have to work harder than that.

For some unexplainable reason - one that totally, absolutely escaped him - Nyx had taken to watching you at events like this one.

He watched as a tall blond male, dripping with smarm, dressed in a mortifying shade of orange, approached you. He recognized the male and ground his teeth. Complicated history between Autumn and Night aside, there was no one at this party he’d rather you not talk to than Oleander.

“Hi boys,” a female voice purred behind Nyx and Merrick. Nyx had been halfway into marching over to you, when his shoulder was touched - wings blessedly tucked away - drawing his attention behind him.

With one hand each on his and Merrick’s backs, the twin to the male talking to you, was grinning coyly up at them.

Amaryllis and her brother Oleander, the terrible twin heirs to Spring. Tamlin’s simpering and backhanded children.

Nyx pivoted immediately, removing her hand from his back, Merrick a step behind. Amaryllis was wearing a puffy purple dress that was darker than her usual shades, coming across almost as the color of a night dark sky or ocean. Nyx and Merrick shared brief, similar looks of disdain. Merrick’s was gone faster and was far more subtle, however.

One of the Spring twins’ favorite things to do at parties like this was to taunt people not just with their conversational slings and arrows, but in their dress as well. Often, they wore colors specifically to signal one thing or another to whoever their chosen target of the evening was. It never made sense to Nyx but most of what Spring got up to didn’t make sense to him.

Nyx couldn’t keep himself from rolling his eyes, “what do you want?”

Amaryllis’s eyes turned big, pitiful and doe-like and both boys knew every bit of it was fake as could be. “I can’t just want to talk to someone?”

“In my experience, Amaryllis,” Merrick said, voice diplomatic, “you don’t often make-“

“You don’t talk to somebody unless you want something,” Nyx said, not having enough patience with the female in front of him to let Merrick finish. “So what do you want?”

“Would either of you care to offer the lady a dance?”

Nyx snorted. Merrick stayed quiet.

After a beat Nyx said, “you’re serious?”

Amaryllis’s eyes bubbled with crocodile tears. “Yes.”

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,’ Nyx thought in Merrick’s direction.

Merrick sighed, “there are plenty of other males to dance with Amaryllis, why not ask them?”

Amaryllis began to sniffle and blubber.

‘Cauldron, how old is she?’ Nyx quietly said again. Had it been anyone else, Nyx wouldn’t have denied a pretty girl the chance to dance. He loved dancing in settings like this. It was always fun, a little flirtatious, and always entertaining.

It was a shame that the potential partner this time was a female he positively could not stand.

‘She’s going to make a scene if one of us doesn’t do something,’ Merrick thought back. It appeared he didn’t want to dance with her anymore than Nyx did.

Merrick had a massive crush on Kallias and Viviane’s daughter. He wanted to court her properly, he just hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask her yet. The last thing he needed was rumors swirling around about him and the female heir of Spring. The relationship would be over before it even got the chance to start. Amaryllis, conniving little snake that she was, likely knew that. She was banking on Nyx’s hatred of her to spell doom for Merrick’s romantic prospects.

“Fine,” Nyx said, “If I dance with you once will you leave us both alone?”

“Nyx, you don’t,” Merrick began but the terror in purple cut him off.

“Sure, Nyxie.” A feral, satisfied smile, assuring him that she’d gotten exactly what she wanted. Nyx fought the urge to vomit.

Nyx’s usual play was bowing and offering a hand to his prospective dance partner. Once the hand was taken, he’d gaze up at them and softly kiss the back of it. Then he’d smile - a mix of genuine joy and mischievous glee - as he watched the reaction.

Instead, this time, he stiffly held himself in a dancing position, waiting for her to take his hands.

She glommed onto him, wrapping herself around him in a hug, hands brushed his shoulders where his wings would be if they weren’t magically concealed. Firmly, he grabbed her hands and pulled them back where he wanted them.

Merrick sent Nyx the most apologetic look he’d ever seen.

‘Finally ask your girl to dance, and we’re even, okay? Don’t feel sorry for me, I’ll manage.’ Nyx stiffly spun Amaryllis around, out of Merrick’s view. ‘Go now before she sees.’

Then Merrick was gone.

The music swirled around them and the other dancers, and Nyx quickly decided he hated this piece.

“The way people rave about your dancing, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so stiff, Nyxie,” Amaryllis cooed with a coquettish little laugh.

Nyx really was starting to feel sick, perhaps that last spin had been a mistake.

“My dancing is entirely dependent on the company I do it with,” he said.

“Aww, you don’t mean that!”

Twelve different disarming comments danced on the tip of Nyx’s tongue but he forwent them all in favor of another stiff spin.

Commotion to the side of the ballroom halted all dancing and conversation. Nyx dropped Amaryllis’s hands as his head whipped over to where the sound had come from.

Over in the last place Nyx had seen you, Oleander stood - a raging image of his father. He held his hand aloft, a bit of blood dripping from small puncture wounds. You were gone, the faint sent of smoke wafting over to Nyx. Wolfe, however, stood dropped low in a crouch a pace away from Oleander, growling, with faintly red teeth.

“The fucking thing bit me!”

Amaryllis surged over to her brother, pulling him away from Wolfe like he was the greatest monster known to faekind, all the while fretting over the tiny puncture marks that clearly were a warning nip more than anything else. For Cauldron’s sake, he could tell from where he stood the wounds wouldn’t last the hour.

Nyx walked over, cautiously but firmly approaching Wolfe, who was still faintly growling up at Oleander.

“Someone needs to put that thing down!” Oleander shouted.

Nyx held his hand out for Wolfe, who paused his snarling to look up at the Night Court’s heir. Wolfe sniffed the offered hand, looking at Nyx with indifference.

“He doesn’t seem too bad to me,” Nyx responded, “he was trained to protect his owner, seems to me he was just doing his job.”

Amaryllis dramatically gasped, something a bad actress in one of Velaris’s many theaters would have thought to accurately portray horrific betrayal.

Nyx ignored her, staring down her brother. He received a similar look of contempt from Oleander.

Nyx shrugged, placed one hand in his pocket, carefully scratched Wolfe behind the ear and whispered, “let’s go find your mom, huh?”

Wolfe looked at Oleander one final time before plodding after the smoke smell to the door, Nyx following after, pausing only to open the door and step outside after the dog. He didn’t care that the ballroom remained silent the entire time, he had an Autumn Court princess to find.

“Nyx!” Amaryllis, the brat that she was, whined, “we haven’t finished dancing yet!”

Nyx quickly, without looking back, gestured to the silent ballroom, “Sounds like the song’s over.”

He swore he heard his uncle’s booming laugh just before the door closed.

Outside the Forest House, on the exterior walkways, it was beautiful. Soft golden light flitted out through the windows, partially lighting the darkened balcony. Nyx would give Autumn this, it was gorgeous at night. The reds and oranges of the leaves turned shades of blue and purple in the dark, the only lights being the golden red of a hearth or campfire. Looking up, Nyx noticed that the moon was almost perpetually golden here. An ever harvest moon for the seasonal court built on yields of abundant crops.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He heard a hushed, sweet voice further away, followed by a sigh of relief. He blinked in the dark, glancing in front of him to find you. Hidden away from the light of the windows, visible only where you’d knelt down to inspect your prized pooch.

Nyx, even though he’d suspected some of what he saw now, was surprised to see you like this. Kneeling in front of your beloved furry friend, your hair haloed where the golden light from inside just managed to reach you. There were drying tear tracks on your face, he realized with a start.

You looked small, cracked slightly to his eyes, as you hugged Wolfe to you.

“I’m so sorry, bud,” you said, even through your own discomfort, “I’m sorry I left you there.”

“You really should see the other guy,” Nyx said stepping closer, “I thought Amaryllis was going to faint.”

You looked up, recognizing who stood before you, and stiffened. Where Wolfe had been licking at your tears, he stopped, heeling to sit at your feet as you stood up. He sat regally beside you, watching Nyx with a sharp eye.

“It’s you.”

“It’s me.”

“What do you want?” You wiped as subtly as you could at what evidence of your tears remained on your face, but Nyx had seen it and it appeared you recognized that. Classified the information he now had on you. Nyx found he didn’t like how unsettled you seemed by it.

“I, uhm, I was helping Wolfe find his way back to you. Oleander looked about ready to-“ Nyx realized that what he was about to say would likely be unhelpful, and stopped.

You beat him to the thought though. “If he even thinks of laying a finger on Wolfe, I’ll kill him. I- I don’t care what anyone says.”

Nyx noted the stumble in your words, that little pause that could say so much if he figured out what it was for.

“Well,” you said, still sounding a little shaken, “was there anything else you needed? Anything hospitality wise is inside” The edge hadn’t left your voice, but Nyx decided he’d try his luck tonight.

He leaned his arms on the railing, looking cautiously at you, not unlike approaching a wild animal. “Actually, I wanted to check and see if you were okay.”

“Well, I’m fine, alright, I don’t want your help, and I certainly don’t want your pity,” you bit at him.

Nyx pushed forward, “What did he say to you?”

You said nothing.

“I know he said something, or the ballroom wouldn’t have smelled like a barely contained inferno. What did he say?”

The balcony doors eased open a crack, allowing another figure to step out onto the walkway.

“There you are,” a familiar, smooth voice said as your Uncle Lucien swept over to stand between the two of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere. You are a remarkably difficult female to find, young lady.”

For the first time all evening, Nyx watched a real smile spread across your face. Like starlight in the darkness. It was…

“You’ve been hunting with me before,” you said to Lucien, “you shouldn’t be surprised.”

Lucien smiled rakishly at you, shaking his head fondly. His expression shifted to a more serious one as he asked, “are you alright?”

Nyx expected some bite, some comment to your uncle to mind his own business, but instead, you seemed to melt like candle wax. As if Lucien held the magic words to loosen your tongue.

You looked down to save yourself some amount of embarrassment, but you answered him. “I’ve been better.”

Nyx shifted, remaining quiet. It was like you’d forgotten he was there. The sharp-toothed, sharp-clawed Princess of Autumn was gone. This was Lucien’s niece, and she’d been hurt tonight.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You looked up at Lucien with a sharp eye, the word ‘no,’ etched into every inch of you.

“Okay,” Lucien said, “answer a question or two for me first, little flame?”

“Fine.”

“Did Oleander approach you, or did you approach him?”

“He came to me.”

“And Wolfe-“

“I didn’t tell him to do anything, I just left. I assumed he’d follow me. Oleander must have done something. He can say whatever lie he wants, but we didn’t do anything to him that he didn’t earn.”

Wolfe, as if to help, barked.

Lucien looked down at the dog and nodded sagely. That got a laugh out of you, and an unbidden soft smile out of Nyx.

“There she is,” Lucien smiled.

The balcony doors opened once again, your father’s broad shadow stretching out to meet you all before the door shut behind him.

Eris frowned at you and shared a brief look with his little brother. He sent one quick side glance at Nyx as well before he said, “I’d like to speak with my daughter. Alone.”

“Where’s-“ Lucien began but he didn’t have to say your mother’s name for any of you to know who he was asking about.

“Inside, handling it,” Eris responded.

Eris’s tone didn’t sound angered, at least not at you, but Nyx watched as you dropped your head, suddenly very interested in your boots and Wolfe’s paws.

“And no,” Eris said, a touch of his customary dry humor leaking in, “she does not need your help, brother. We’ll be inside shortly.”

Lucien nodded, sending a sympathetic smile your way before walking to the door.

“Alone means you too, boy,” Eris said when Nyx didn’t move.

Nyx locked eyes with you, then looked over his shoulder at Lucien, who stood waiting for him by the door.

Not entirely wanting to, Nyx turned and followed Lucien inside.

“Let’s go find Cassian,” Lucien suggested, “the least we can do for the High Lady is ensure he doesn’t aggravate the situation.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Nyx asked. He didn’t have to specify he was talking about you.

Lucien paused, looking down at his friend’s son, at the concern on his face. “She’ll be alright, I’m sure. I don’t know what happened, but if she is every inch her mother and father’s daughter - and she is - she will be just fine. Thank you, Nyx, for checking on her before we could.”

Nyx nodded then with a sour expression, “What makes Oleander and Amaryllis think they can get away with treating people like this?”

Lucien sighed, “Those children are products of their environment. Tam… Their father did not shield them from his worst courtiers and the two of them learned by example.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Nyx argued.

“No,” Lucien said, patting the younger male’s shoulder, “No it doesn’t. Come on.”

Nyx frowned, sending one last look back over his shoulders, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and Eris through the window.

Outside, Eris studied you momentarily. He waited for you to start, but once he realized you would not, that you would continue staring at the ground, he sighed and tilted your head up to meet his eyes.

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

“Pretty sure the whole ballroom saw.”

Eris tilted his head, waiting.

You grabbed Wolfe and hugged him, resting your chin on his head. The affection had him wagging his tail softly into your side, but he whined for both of you.

“Darling, please,” Eris said, his voice like a breaking heart.

You mumbled your answer into Wolfe’s fur.

“What?”

“I failed you,” you said.

Now Eris’s heart truly did break. He didn’t balk at the dog in between you, pulling the both of you closer, wrapping his arms around the two of you, studying your face.

“Failed me how, fawn?”

You growled your frustration. “Today was mine. Ours. Our equinox. And I let him take it from me, I let him ruin it. I let him win. I let him beat me.”

“And you’ll be ready for him next time, little vixen,” Eris said, comfortingly.

“Is mother-“

“She’s talking to Tamlin now, things will be fine, darling. You did everything right.”

You sighed, rubbing your thumb through Wolfe’s fur.

“I have to ask, however,” he began, dangling the end of his sentence, waiting for your answer.

Oleander’s words echoed in your head, a million back-handed little comments.

Interesting that no one wanted to dance with a vicious little thing like you.

Everyone knows what your father did.

Shut up, you’d said.

What are you going to do, kill me?

Nothing serious, but every tiny jab had been delivered with such a sadistic sneer that they stuck in, penetrated your armor and illuminated everything you feared. All you’d ever wanted was for someone to love you. Oleander highlighted your most devastating what-if. What if no one trusted you enough to try?

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to sleep,” you responded.

Eris nodded, “alright.”

He stood and offered his arm to you.

“I can walk there myself, father,” you groaned.

Eris smiled softly, “someone needs to escort the lady home.”

You faintly smiled back, linking your arm with his and fell onto his broad arm. Leaning into your father’s steady support the whole way, your best friend with four paws trailing behind you.

A/N: Ah! Super proud of this one! I had a lot of fun with names in this! Looking forward to the next one! Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged! Have a good night!

P.S. Did you know orchids are spring and fall blooming flowers?

[velaris-fic-repository]

First chapter’s done and posting tonight! 😆

The Nyx eris requester here and OH I AM EXCITED

It may take me a little while, but I’m excited as well!

[velaris-fic-repository]

Little Matchmaker

Azriel x reader (part 4.5)

Summary: reader gets a birthday gift and her friend can’t help but push her to go big or go home.

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

She was dreaming.

She knew it even as she felt the soft weight of a blanket draped over her bare shoulders, Azriel’s callused fingers brushed her cheek, just as his arm curled tighter around her waist. They were still wet from the pool, skin warm and tangled beneath one of her spare blankets. The sun was rising above her balcony doors, the city waking while they started to rest. His voice, low and scratchy, murmured something against her hair.

“Stay,” she whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

But he always did…

~

Y/N blinked awake as the sun crept through her curtains due to the blowing wind. Her bed was cold, and empty, and her heart gave a small, traitorous ache.

She groaned, covering her face with a pillow.

“Snap out of it,” she muttered to herself.

Today was her birthday. But, she had scrolls to read, enchantments to translate, and the library wouldn’t run itself. Just because she’d spent the last few nights dreaming of Azriel’s smile or the way his fingers lingered a little too long on her back, or the kiss he left her with that still made her stomach flip, didn’t mean she had time to daydream today.

The date was two weeks ago, but it still felt like yesterday. She really needed to stop thinking about it; they lived completely different lives and it was only a one time thing.

Yet, she couldn’t help but remember how beautiful the night was, no male had ever treated her like he did.

With a sigh, Y/N got ready for work.

~

The library was quiet as always, the scent of old paper and ink calming her nerves. She’d settled into a rhythm, nose deep in a scroll on ancient Day Court magic, when someone cleared their throat beside her desk.

She looked up to see a young messenger, wide-eyed and clearly in awe of the massive collection around him.

“Delivery,” he said, holding out a wrapped box and a bouquet of various white flowers speckled with silver.

Y/N blinked, stunned. “Uh… for me?”

He nodded, handed them over, and quickly scurried away.

She stared at the package and bouquet wondering if the messenger perhaps got the wrong female.

No one sent her gifts. Especially not ones wrapped in delicate paper and tied with navy ribbon. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the small envelope off the flowers.

In neat, precise handwriting, she read:

Happy 250th, Bright One.

For someone who claims no one would want her at this age, I thought I’d take the chance before the line forms. I haven’t forgotten that you owe me a book recommendation.

— A.

She stared at the note, cheeks warming so fast it felt like she’d swallowed sunlight.

“Oh goodness,” came her friend Selene’s voice from behind. “Who are those from?”

“Ummm no one.”

Giggling, Selene reached around her in a flash and snatched the card from her hand.

“Oooooohhhhhhh,” she sung. “Definitely not a one-time thing, then.”

“It’s not like that,” Y/N said quickly, her blush deepening. “He’s just being—nice.”

“Nice? You can’t find these flowers everywhere, babe.” Selene said.

Her friend then stared at the box in wonder. “You should definitely open the box.”

“What do you think it is?” Y/N asked.

“Probably a dagger, he seems to like those things.”

Y/N squawked, “A dagger?? Are you insane? Why would he give me one of those?”

Selene chuckled, “Umm, so you can defend yourself while he’s not here to be your knight in shining armor?”

Trying to believe her own words, Selene playfully practiced her fighting moves with a nonexistent dagger. “Yeah definitely that!”

Y/N shook her head. “As much as I love how your brain works, it can’t be dagger. There’s no way.”

Her friend only raised her brows and pointed to the box. Sighing, Y/N tentatively unwrapped the present.

Inside, nestled in black velvet, sat a delicate necklace with a deep blue stone and matching earrings, shaped like falling stars. Ethereal. Night Court craftsmanship, undoubtedly.

The two of them sat in silence for a minute. Selene wasn’t sure if Y/N was breathing.

“Sweet Mother,” Selene breathed. “These are gorgeous. How will you ever thank him? Since, you know, it was just a ‘one-time thing’.”

Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/N reminded herself to breathe and rolled her eyes at her friend. “I don’t know. Maybe next time he’s in Day.”

“You are telling me that you’ll just thank him next time he’s here?”

“What am I supposed to do? Sprout wings and fly to the Night Court immediately?”

Selene giggled, “I mean it’s not a bad idea. That way you could thank him properly.” Wiggling her eyebrows for dramatic effect.

Y/N gasped, hitting her friend playfully. “Absolutely not. You are so vulgar. I would never do that.”

The two stared at each other before falling into a fit of laughter.

“Okay mayyybe. Perhaps if the appropriate moment, you know, happened to happen. I would gracefully get on my knees…”

Before Y/N could finish her sentence, Selene slapped a hand over Y/N’s mouth. “And you say I’m vulgar! Does he know about these naughty things you say!?!”

“Of course not, he thinks I’m a perfect angel,” Y/N smirked.

“Hmm then you must have not talked very much on that date because you my friend are far from an angel.”

Y/N mockingly gasped and gestured to the jewelry that seemed to sparkle as if they too couldn’t hold in their laughter. “Then explain these gifts!”

“Wellllll hear me out,” her friend drawled, wiggling her brows. “I think I have the perfect way to thank him. There is a thing called Starfall next week in the Night Court…”

“We can’t just invite ourselves!” Y/N protested. “He probably already has a date.”

“Why not? When’s the last time we’ve been on vacation? You’re working on your birthday. Come on Y/N. You’re in desperate need of a break. I’m in desperate need of a scandal. And you—” she pointed at her with a smirk, “—have been gifted jewelry and flowers by the shadowsinger of the Night Court. I can promise you, he doesn’t already have a date.”

Y/N glanced down at the necklace again, fingers ghosting over the silver chain. “We don’t have dresses. Or a place to stay.”

“Pfft,” her friend scoffed. “Leave that to me. Dresses, done. Place to stay—handled. Not that you need one, I’m sure the Shadowsinger has a big enough bed. All you need to do is pack your bag and maybe think about what book you’re going to show him next. You know, to repay him.”

Her mouth twitched. “You're relentless.”

“It's why you love me. And besides… tell me you don't want to see him again.”

She didn’t answer. Just glanced at the card again. The way his inked scrawl curved her nickname. The way the bouquet shimmered under the library’s lights.

After a long moment, Y/N murmured, “Okay. Fine. I guess it has been a while.”

Her friend squealed, clapping. “Starfall, here we come!”

Y/N tried to fight her smile. Really, she did. But it was hopeless. The glow from the flowers mirrored the glow in her chest as she turned back to her desk—her mind already drifting far, far from the scrolls in front of her.

To the stars.

To a Night Court male who remembered her birthday.

“Okay let’s do it!”

[velaris-fic-repository]

Kind of obsessed with an Archeron Sibling attending the High Lord’s Meeting whose strategy for dealing with Tamlin amounts to:

“I’m just going to wait until you’re done.“

“Excuse me?”

“You seem determined to make sure none of us get a word in edgewise until you make your point, so I’m just going to wait until you’re finished.”