hi, im very nervous to be here! i am a wattpad author, coming over to tumblr because i have many many many ideas to write about all sort of different characters. tumblr is going to be that place where i sort of dump all of those oneshots i come up with!
My wattpad is mainly for Aemond Targaryen so if he’s your cup of tea, check it out!
i am a huge swiftie, and i thought it would be cool that all one shots be based on a songs of hers (maybe gracie abrahams too) so most of them will be named after her songs and incorporate quotes from them
SUMMARY The Spring Court has gone to shit, and while you would normally be able to tolerate it, the new discovery that you were pregnant pushes you to the gates of The Autumn Court and unknowingly into Eris' arms.
CONTENT WARNINGS pregnancy, Eris being a slight douche (you know how it is yall), violence (reader is kicked in the stomach), and mentions of Tampon (Tamlin).
AUTHORS NOTE who's excited for the kick-off of yet another series? I am! Of course, I had to start an Eris series, I love him too much not to! Strap in, darlings, I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.
The once vibrant Spring court had gone to shit, a shadow of its former glory. Tamlin, the once revered and compassionate High Lord, had vanished, abandoning his people to suffer in the decay his negligence had allowed to fester.
Amid the desolation, there were attempts to salvage what remained of the Spring Court. Lucien's name surfaced as one who strove to preserve our home. I recall his desperate sacrifice on Calanmai, offering himself to Ianthe in a futile bid to rescue us. He still occasionally visits, perhaps clinging to a hope that he might stumble upon signs of revival, our High Lord restored to his former benevolence. Yet each return only reinforces the stark reality of our decline, leaving him unsurprised by the sight of our dwindling realm.
And now, here I stand, just beyond the borders of the Autumn Court, clad in nothing but the ragged remnants of my escape, imploring the impassive sentries to grant me sanctuary within their walls. They offer no response, their stoic countenances unmoved as I plead and weep at their feet.
In my disheveled state, I must present a pitiful sight—my attire threadbare and stained, my once-glamorous countenance marred by streaks of dirt and smudged cosmetics, my limbs adorned with bruises like macabre adornments.
As I teeter on the brink of desperation, a voice cuts through the stillness, emerging from the depths of the forest to my right. The guards snap to attention at its sound, their posture stiffening even further, if such a thing were possible, in deference to its commanding presence.
"What is the meaning of this?" The voice, smooth as silk and sharp as a blade, belonged to a man with cascading locks of fiery hair, who strode forth from the underbrush with an air of regal authority.
Gods, he was a vision to behold. Despite the earthy stains marring his attire and the tousled state of his tunic sleeves, he exuded an otherworldly allure.
"A mere denizen of the Spring Court, attempting to beg her way into our domain, my lord," one of the guards grumbled, offering a curt bow before callously nudging me aside with his boot. I winced as the blow landed squarely in my stomach.
"And what, pray tell, do you think you are doing, you imbecile!" The fiery-haired man's voice dripped with disdain as he strode forward, confronting the offending guard with palpable fury. "Can you not discern her condition, you fool? She carries life within her."
My heart lurched as I instinctively cradled my abdomen, a protective gesture born of maternal instinct. Though every fiber of my being yearned to retaliate against the guard's callousness, I forced myself to breathe deeply, refusing to succumb to the animalistic urges that society expected of Spring Court members in these desperate times.
"Are you alright?" the man inquired, his amber eyes ablaze with a captivating mix of concern and authority, their gaze so intense that it stole the very air from my lungs.
"I'm… I'm fine," I managed to utter, brushing aside the tangled strands of hair obscuring my face and inhaling deeply to steady my frayed nerves.
"I must apologize for the behavior of my soldier. Rest assured, appropriate measures will be taken, my lady," the man assured me, his smile radiant as he inclined his head with graceful deference. His charm nearly brought a wry laugh to my lips.
"No need for such formalities," I replied weakly, the weight of my displaced status as a refugee gnawing at my throat like a persistent ache. But I steeled myself with the thought of my unborn child, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. "I am no longer a lady—well, not in the traditional sense, anyway."
"How so?" the man persisted, his expression a blend of curiosity and genuine concern, prompting me to draw my arms tighter around myself.
"I find it quite audacious for someone whose name I don't even know to ask such personal questions," I retorted, feigning a hint of indignation that rang hollow even to my own ears.
"Fair point," he conceded with a charming grin, though his adherence to formality still grated on my nerves. "Allow me to rectify that oversight. My name is Eris. Eris Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Court," he declared, and I felt a strange mixture of relief and weariness wash over me at his introduction.
Eris. Lucien had spoken sparingly of his older brother during his time in the Spring Court, but whenever he did, a profound sense of affection tinged with melancholy colored his words. I shook myself from my reverie, extending a hand in a gesture of polite acknowledgement as I reciprocated with my own name. Eris repeated my name softly, testing it on his tongue, and my heart twinged at the striking resemblance in mannerism between him and Lucien, one so distant yet familiar, the other painfully close.
"Now," Eris began, his hands making a smooth, sweeping gesture that hinted at his readiness to delve deeper into the matter at hand, "what brings you to the borders of the Autumn Court, my lady?"
"The Spring Court is…" My voice faltered, and I let out a weary sigh, my hand instinctively resting on my still-flat stomach for comfort.
"It's gone to shit," he finished for me, his smirk sharp but not unkind.
"Well, I wouldn't have phrased it quite so bluntly, but yes," I responded, my fingers tracing small circles over my abdomen. "That place and its ruler are no fit environment for a child. Considering the proximity of your court, I was hoping I might find a new beginning here."
"What about the father?" Eris inquired, one eyebrow—a mirror image of Lucien's—arching skeptically.
I clear my throat awkwardly and look at my well-worn shoes. How does one tell the Heir to the Autumn Court that they are pregnant with his youngest brother's babe? How does one also explain how he is mated to another female, that they knew as soon as that brother found out about said babe, he would give up all hope to find his true mate in order to be there for his child?
"Not in the picture," I manage to say, my voice faltering slightly as I reach up to scratch the back of my neck, a gesture betraying my discomfort.
Eris hums, a low, thoughtful sound that vibrates with suspicion, his striking eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes my uneasy demeanor. The weight of his gaze feels like it could peel back the layers of my hastily constructed defenses, compelling me to confront truths I'd rather leave unspoken. Eris's scrutinizing gaze doesn't waver, and the silence stretches taut between us like a bowstring. "Not in the picture," he echoes thoughtfully, each word heavy with the promise of unasked questions.
I nod, feeling the weight of the moment settling around us. The air in the forest seems to hold its breath, the usual whispers of leaves and distant calls of woodland creatures falling into a hushed reverence. "And you must understand, my lord, that my child is my utmost priority," I assert with unwavering resolve, emphasizing his title with a hint of disdain, as if challenging the very foundations of our unequal stations.
The guards stationed behind me draw in sharp, anticipatory breaths, seemingly prepared for their lord to mete out swift retribution for my boldness. I steel myself against the expected blow, a silent rehearsal of defiance.
Yet, the expected strike does not materialize. Instead, Eris regards me with what could only be described as admiration. His gaze, intense and calculating, appraises me not as a threat, but as a formidable presence in my own right.
"Well, little fox," he begins, his voice carrying a playful undertone that belies the depth of his contemplation. He strokes his chin thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as if to physically underline his ponderings. "It appears you've presented quite the compelling argument for yourself here."
The use of "little fox" — a term perhaps meant to denote cunning and resilience — sparks a flicker of amusement within me, mixed with a surge of cautious optimism. His demeanor suggests a blend of challenge and respect, hinting at a dynamic that could evolve beyond mere formalities or supplications. This man before me is not just the heir to a court; he is a strategist weighing his next move.
"You seek shelter for yourself and the babe?" Eris inquires with a hint of slyness, as if to subtly test my resolve, though it's a point I've already made abundantly clear.
"Indeed," I retort sharply, refusing to waver under the weight of his penetrating gaze.
"Then shelter you shall have," he declares, pivoting on his heel to fix the guards with a stern glare. "You will allow her passage," he commands, his tone uncompromising. The guards, obedient to their lord's decree, quickly acquiesce, parting to allow me entry with a mere flick of Eris's wrist.
The heady scent of spices and autumnal freshness assaults my senses as I approach the threshold, beckoning me forward with its tantalizing allure. It's as if the very essence of this court implores me to embrace my true purpose, to seize control of my destiny without hesitation. The boldness of it all catches me off guard, stirring a sense of rebellion that courses through my veins like wildfire.
Pausing at the threshold, I find myself suspended between the tranquility of the wilderness behind me and the vibrant chaos of the court ahead. I hesitate, grappling with the weight of the choices that lie before me.
Eris slows his stride beside me, as if attuned to my uncertainty, and extends his arm—an offering both courteous and suggestive. His demeanor exudes confidence and assurance, as if he expects me to surrender to his lead without question.
But I refuse to yield to the expectations of courtly decorum. Chin held high, I meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, ignoring the disheveled state of my attire as I assert my independence. My feet remain firmly planted, refusing to advance until I am ready, on my own terms.
Eris's arm lingers in the air for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at my defiance. His amber eyes search mine, silently probing, yet beneath the scrutiny, I detect a glimmer of curiosity and… respect.
"I am quite capable of managing on my own," I declare, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within me.
His expression softens, and he nods, gracefully retracting his arm. "As you wish," he concedes, gesturing for me to take the lead as we finally step through the threshold together.
The walk through the streets of Autumn was like stepping into a painting come to life. The cobblestone pathways wound gracefully between quaint buildings adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant splashes of ivy. Overhead, colorful banners fluttered in the gentle breeze, their designs depicting scenes of seasonal splendor and courtly festivities.
Stands and stalls lined the streets, each one a miniature wonderland of treasures waiting to be discovered. From intricately woven tapestries to gleaming trinkets and baubles, the offerings were as diverse as they were captivating. Merchants called out to passersby in melodious voices, their wares displayed with care and pride.
The smells that wafted through the air were a symphony of sensory delights. Spices mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread, their fragrances intermingling in a tantalizing dance that made my mouth water. Roasted chestnuts crackled and popped over open fires, their warm, nutty aroma floating on the breeze alongside the sweet perfume of ripe fruit and fragrant flowers.
Eris's sudden change in direction pulled me from my reverie, my gaze following his lead as we approached a magnificent structure nestled within the heart of the Autumn Court. The Forest House loomed before us, its grandeur and mystique commanding attention as we drew nearer.
Surrounded by a wrought iron gate, the house stood as a bastion of elegance amidst the bustling streets. Tall trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches reaching out to embrace the ancient structure with a sense of reverence. Vines climbed the walls, their verdant tendrils weaving intricate patterns against the weathered stone.
The sight of the Forest House sent a shiver down my spine, a visceral reaction to the aura of power and mystery that seemed to emanate from its very core. It was as if the house held secrets untold, whispering tales of bygone days and forgotten legends to those who dared to listen.
"Wait!" I called out, the urgency in my voice halting Eris in his tracks. His steps faltered, and he turned to face me, a glint of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. The sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead cast dappled shadows across his features, lending an air of intrigue to his already enigmatic presence.
"Yes?" he inquired, his voice smooth and tinged with playful curiosity, his smirk hinting at secrets hidden just beneath the surface.
"What's going to happen to me? Where will I stay?" I blurted out, the fierce confidence I had summoned earlier dissipating like morning mist in the face of uncertainty. Nervously, I began to pick at my nails, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon me like a heavy cloak.
Eris regarded me with a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he had anticipated my question long before I had voiced it. "You will stay with me, of course," he replied simply, his voice carrying an air of nonchalance that belied the gravity of his words. There was a subtle confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that spoke of his authority within the court.
I recoiled at his casual response, a surge of apprehension coursing through me. "But what about Beron? Won't he object to having a… a lowborn in his household?" I ventured cautiously, the weight of his father's disapproval looming like a specter in the back of my mind.
"Nonsense," Eris scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest in a dismissive gesture. "You are now a member of this court, and given your condition," he added with a subtle nod towards my abdomen, "it is only fitting that you reside in more suitable accommodations." His words were tinged with a hint of defiance, a silent challenge to anyone who would dare question his authority.
Despite his reassurances, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind, uncertainty clouding my thoughts like a thick fog. "Absolutely not!" I protested vehemently, a surge of protectiveness coursing through me as I instinctively placed a hand over my stomach, as if to shield my unborn child from the absurdity of Eris's suggestion. "I refuse to stay in your chambers, Eris. It's… it's utterly preposterous."
Eris's eyebrow lifted slightly, his gaze holding a hint of amusement mixed with something darker. "Stubborn, aren't we?" he remarked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But if you prefer to sleep on the streets, far be it from me to stand in your way."
His words, though seemingly casual, carried a sharp edge that hinted at the depth of his cunning. It was a subtle reminder of his position of power, a reminder that I was at his mercy whether I liked it or not.
I bristled at his thinly veiled threat, my jaw clenching as I met his gaze with a glare of my own. "You wouldn't dare," I challenged, though a flicker of uncertainty danced behind my eyes.
Eris's smirk widened, the glint in his amber eyes turning predatory. "Try me," he replied, his tone dripping with promise and menace in equal measure.
With a frustrated huff, I reluctantly relented, realizing that I was in no position to defy him. "Fine," I conceded through gritted teeth, my hand slipping from my stomach to clench into a fist at my side. "But don't expect me to thank you for it."
Eris's smirk softened into a smirk, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Who said anything about gratitude?" he mused, his voice low and husky. "I'm merely extending a courtesy to a fellow refugee."
His words were laced with sarcasm, a reminder that his generosity came with strings attached. It was a stark contrast to the charming facade he wore, a glimpse of the ruthlessness that lay beneath.
I swallowed hard, a bitter taste rising in the back of my throat as I followed him towards the Forest House. It was clear that my time in the Autumn Court would be far from easy, but as I glanced back at the crumbling ruins of the Spring Court behind me, I knew that I had no other choice.
As we reached the grand doors of the Forest House, Eris turned to me with a smirk. "Welcome to your new home, little fox," he remarked, his tone dripping with irony. "Try not to get too comfortable."
My brows furrowed at his words, suspicion creeping into my mind. "What's the catch?" I asked warily, narrowing my eyes at him.
Eris chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Though I do have one condition," he said, his smirk widening into a grin.
"And what is that?" I asked, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.
"You must walk with me once a day for the duration of your stay," Eris declared, his tone teasing yet firm.
My jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're joking," I exclaimed, disbelief evident in my voice.
Eris's grin widened, his amber eyes dancing with amusement. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he retorted, his tone challenging.
I narrowed my eyes at him, a surge of defiance rising within me. "This is ridiculous," I protested, shaking my head in disbelief. "I won't be your captive audience."
Eris's expression softened, a hint of something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "It's not about being captive," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Consider it… a chance to explore the court, to clear your mind. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I could use the company."
I bristled at his suggestion, my pride warring with my better judgment. "And if I refuse?" I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.
Eris's smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Then you'll miss out on some truly breathtaking views," he replied, his tone teasing yet earnest.
I sighed in frustration, realizing that I was fighting a losing battle. "Fine," I relented, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."
Eris's grin widened into a smirk, his eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, I have a feeling you'll come to enjoy it more than you think," he remarked cryptically, before turning to lead the way into the Forest House.
As Eris escorted me to the grand Forest House, his steps were measured, exuding an air of regal confidence that was unmistakably his. His fiery locks seemed to dance with each movement, and his amber eyes held a glint of mischief, hinting at the cunning that lay beneath his charming exterior.
Upon entering my chambers, Eris's gaze swept over the room with a critical eye, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I trust the accommodations meet with your approval, my lady?" he inquired, his voice smooth as honey but tinged with a hint of sarcasm.
I nodded, unable to suppress a smirk of my own at his thinly veiled jest. "They're quite lovely, thank you," I replied, matching his playful tone with one of my own.
Eris's smirk widened into a grin, his amusement evident in the curve of his lips. "Excellent," he remarked, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to survey the room once more.
As I explored my new surroundings, I couldn't help but notice Eris's watchful gaze following my every move. It was as if he were sizing me up, gauging my reactions to the opulence that surrounded us. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, a depth of character hidden behind his charming facade.
Spotting the single daffodil on the table near the window, I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the sight. It was a quintessentially Eris gesture—playful yet meaningful, a subtle reminder of our earlier exchange. I picked up the note beside it, the elegant script a testament to Eris's attention to detail.
"I will be seeing you real soon, little fox. Wouldn't want you slacking off on our daily walks now, would we?" the note read, the teasing tone perfectly in line with Eris's mischievous nature. I couldn't help but smile at his audacity, the unspoken challenge sparking a flicker of excitement within me.
Setting the note back down, I turned to find Eris watching me with a knowing smirk, his amber eyes alight with amusement. "I take it you approve of my choice of decor?" he quipped, the smirk widening into a grin as he met my gaze.
I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "It's certainly… unique," I replied, the hint of sarcasm in my tone mirroring his own.
Eris chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to hide the flush that crept across his cheeks.
“They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.”
warnings: abused eris, autumn court shenanigans, mentioned abuse (verbal and physical), talks of violence, forbidden love, beron being beron, beron being abusive, physical abuse, angst, sexism, the autumn court brothers, angst, beron slander (as he deserves)
1.1k words
Part Two to But Daddy I Love Him
Masterlist :)
Your father had struck you across your face. He killed you. Killed you and killed your happiness. You thought he would understand, that he would let you marry Rhysand and you would be happy. What a fool you were to think Beron would ever allow you free will. “I’m sorry, darling,” your mother had been comforting you for hours now.
Your head rested on her lap as she weaved her fingers through your dirty blonde hair. “How can he be like this? Why doesn’t he want me to be happy?” You cried softly, your hands gripping your mother’s skirts with a white-knuckle grip.
“He… well, he loves you… he means well…” she trembled as she spoke, and you knew that she did not mean that. “How can you say that, mother? Means well? He struck me three times…” you sobbed unto her lap, your heart aching for one person— your lover.
“Darling, I know he is… unorthodox in his ways, but he cares about your future.” You sat up from your stance when she spoke those words, rage flaring inside your body at her claims. "Cares about my future?! How can you say that after what he did?" You spat angrily, your hands burning with your fire that was just begging to be let out.
"Rhysand is a bad man... his court... it's a nightmare. There are no morals there. He is a cruel, wicked man, just like his father," your mother contested. You could tell that she was distressed, just like you could tell how abused she was by your father, how she feared him even when he was not around.
"Do you think I am daft, mother?" You asked quietly.
"No, honey. You are just youn-" You cut her off.
"Do you think I don't know, mother? You think I haven't seen how beaten he leaves Eris after he makes a small mistake? You think I haven't seen how he eggs Fenix on to compete with Eris constantly? How he beats each of my brothers into oblivion? You think I don't know what happened to Jesminda and Lucien?" You were erratic, trying to get her to understand that you were no longer a child.
Your eyes drifted to her arms, covered by her long sleeved dress, "you think I don't know what he does to you?"
The Lady of Autumn stilled, her face falling as she stared at you solemnly. "I have tried to protect you... Eris has tried. Even Beron has tried. Our reality is not perfect, but your father loves you, and he wants to protect you."
"I don't need protection, mother. I am not a child anymore... I am a female grown... and I want Rhys, and he wants me." You stated in an unwavering manner.
"You must understand that Rhysand is not a good man, honey. The Night Court is the worst place to be, the fae there are deranged and depraved," your mother countered.
You knew there was darkness in the Night Court, but you also knew there was light. So much light. You saw it, Rhys had shown you. But you could never say that, you had promised to keep Velaris a secret, and you would. "There must be good there, mother. I know there must," you stated softly.
When she did not answer, you said, "he loves me and he would never hurt me. I deserve him, and he deserves me. I wish to be happy."
She blinked and wiped her hands on her skirts, shaking her head, "your father has made up his mind, it is time you come to terms with that. We are Vanserras, it is the hand we were dealt." With that, the Lady of Autumn left your chambers, sending you further into despair. So, just because you were a Vanserra you had to deal with abuse and unhappiness?
You would let your family say what they wanted, but you wouldn't hear it. Loose lips sunk ships all the time, but not this time. Left to your own devices, you decided you wouldn't put up with your father's abuse. You rushed to your vanity and rummaged through the cabinet that held all of your trinkets until you found it.
A mirror. A beautiful sapphire encrusted mirror given to you by Rhys a few months back. You reached for your red tube of lipstick and wrote on the glass, Come and get me. It was an enchanted mirror, made for the two of you to communicate through it, since he could not reach you in Autumn. You set the mirror down and waited, hoping that your lover hadn't shoved his own mirror in a drawer and forgotten about it.
You spent the day pacing back and forth in your chambers, hands trembling as you constantly checked the mirror for a reply back. Rhys, please, you pleaded in your mind.
"I love it when you beg," you let out a happy shriek when your lover appeared in the middle of your room, having winnowed in suddenly. You jumped into Rhys's arms, snaking your own over his neck and pulling him in. His arms slithered around your waist, holding you steady as you held on to him for dear life.
"Thank the Cauldron," you cried happy tears, ready for him to take you away from this cage. Rhys pulled away and inspected your figure, his violet eyes turning dark, his thumb grazing over the bruising on your cheek as he growled, "Beron."
A tear slipped down your cheek, a tear he collected with his thumb, "you won't ever suffer under your father again."
"I just want to go with you," you sniffed, leaning your head against his hand as he cupped your cheek. The door to your chambers opened swiftly, "sister, I've brought you suppe-"
Eris dropped the plate when he saw the High Lord of Night holding you close, his expression turning into steel. You yelped and clung to Rhys for dear life as your older brother sent fire bolts his way-- bolts that bounced off the shield Rhysand had put up around the two of you. "It doesn't have to be like this," Rhysand told your brother in a sing-song voice.
"Let her go! This is a breach! This means war, Rhysand." Eris growled and you could only shake your head. "I'm sorry," was what you said before Rhys winnowed the two of you away.
As you were winnowed into a manor-- in the Night Court, you assumed-- you fell to your knees, loud sobs leaving your body. Rhys was quick to kneel with you, taking your trembling hands in his. "This is what you want?" He asked in a soft tone.
You nodded, "for me it's always you. It's only you, but... I'll miss Eris."
"I know, lovely. But this is the only way."
"I know." You said, standing up with his help.
A feline smile spread on his face as he motioned to the starry and gorgeous view outside the balcony he had winnowed into, "Welcome to the Night Court."
-
Author’s note:
Part three of her meeting th IC and fluff? ALSO THANK YOU SM FOR THE COMMENTS ON PART ONEEEEE i am bursting with love
General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @x-reader-x @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143
You'd dreamt of being Azriel's mate for years and years and years. Ever since the day you met him, you lusted, yearned after him. You had been obsessed with being his mate for so long, you even forgot other males existed besides the shadowsinger. Every night, you had prayed to the Mother and to the Cauldron, asking them to give you the bond to him. Asking for them to make him yours.
Your prayers were answered. Cruel, wicked mating bond. You felt it snap as you swirled to him, outraged at his threats and actions to the male that had groped you-- and that was when you felt it, felt him. His emotions running rampant down the bond, causing your heart to thunder wildly in your chest.
Dreams were not real. You realized that when the golden string slithered around you and bound you to Azriel, and all you felt was dread.
You dreamed of a beautiful reunion between your mate and yourself, dreamt of him confessing his undying for you-- dreamt of his shadows coiling around you in warm and lovely comfort. That was not happening. Your hands were trembling in an erratic manner, and suddenly you couldn't breathe.
You stumbled backwards and away from the scene Azriel had formed, towards Feyre, whose brows were knitted together in confusion and concern. "Home," you choked out, drops of ice falling from your eyes in a painful manner. Your shaky hands reached for your face, it hurt to cry, hurt to breathe, hurt to exist.
The High Lady did not need to be told twice. Feyre grabbed your hand and pulled out of Rita's, her Illyrian wings materializing as she pulled you into her and shot up into the sky. She did not ask what had happened, but for some odd reason, you gathered that she already knew what had upset you. Did she know about the bond? Did everyone know?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why were you so stupid? So dumb? Everyone knew, he had probably told everyone, probably had already told them how he planned to reject it. He had known before you did, and said nothing. Hells, he had been lusting and panting after Elain just days before. This dream had wrecked you.
When in the House of Wind, Feyre walked you all the way to your bed, her eyes running wild as she watched you squirm and cry out in pain. "Honey, what can I do?" She asked in distress, "you're in pain. Should I get Madja?"
You were in pain. Emotionally and physically. Your ice powers were running rampant, uncontrollable, as you writhed on your bed. Ice crackled out of your eyes in a more than painful manner, and your fingertips burned due to the cold that freed itself from them. "I am fine," you croaked out, taking a deep breath, as if you had been submerged underwater.
"Your eyes are bleeding ice!" Feyre exclaimed, her hands on her head as she paced the room, seemingly talking to Rhysand in her head. While your body combusted with ice, you could feel Azriel tugging at the bond in a frantic manner, and you knew he was on his way here. You couldn't bear it.
"Madja is on her way with Rhy-" She could not finish her sentence, a scream erupted from her mouth when she turned back to you.
Your eyes were entirely white, your back arched in an uncanny manner as ice covered your being entirely. So much pain, and you had no control. It was an out-of-body experience, and you only prayed to survive. Rhysand and Madja burst into your room not soon after, both of their eyes widening in bewilderment at your form. "Don't you dare touch me," you growled at them, your voice unrecognizable.
You scrambled out of bed, though before you could get very far, Rhysand was grabbing you and Madja was pouring medicine into your mouth. In a second, you were knocked out cold.
-
After you were sound asleep with your powers controlled, Madja exited your chambers and was met by Rhysand, Feyre, and Azriel, who had been waiting for her to finish. "She needs to go home." Madja stated simply, her face stoic.
"Home? She is home." Azriel growled as he paced the corridor, his shadows swirling around him in an intimidating manner. They had been going crazy ever since he left Rita's. Rhysand let out a soft exhalation, "this display of uncontrollable power has never happened to her before."
"It sometimes happened on missions, when she was overwhelmed with emotions, but it was never like this..." Azriel stated, his expression one of sheer pain and anguish. The bond had calmed down once she fell asleep, but before that-- her pain had been haunting him. "And when she was mad at Cassian... but yeah, it was never like this." Feyre agreed, and Madja could only shrug.
"She is a snowling. Her kind thrives in the Winter Court, where it is cold," the healer said solemnly. Azriel shook his head. This was all his fault, he had done this to her. "But she's been fine all this time, years. What changed?" Rhysand asked.
Azriel knew what changed. He ruined her, just like he ruined everything in his life.
"The emotional turmoil the found mating bond sent her into was too much for her to bear. Snowlings like her are usually wild and solitary fae. I bet she was not taught how to regulate her emotions, not like High Fae usually are. And this distress... must have made her explode..." Madja did not want to point fingers, but she could not help her gaze from travelling to the shadowsinger.
"Let's let her rest, see where her head is at tomorrow morning." Rhys stated, and Madja agreed. Feyre then offered to take the healer home, leaving Rhys and Azriel alone in the corridor.
Silence lulled between them. Azriel's shadows withdrew themselves back into him, all while he looked down at the ground in shame. Rhys eyed the shadowsinger, "I told you to tell her."
Azriel gulped hard, his hazel gaze fleeting to Rhys and then back to the floor in embarrassment. "I tried... I've tried... I swear that all I ever wanted was to tell her, to take her into my arms and tell her of the love I feel for her. But she ran away. I kissed her... at our game night... I kissed her and she looked mortified."
Azriel ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he continued, "she was disgusted. And I tried talking to her about it, for the entire week. I knocked every night, but she wouldn't answer, and I realized... she didn't want me. So how could I tell her? How could I chain her to me?"
"A mating bond is not a chain, Azriel. It is a connection, something wonderful and lovely." Rhys argued, his gaze stern and his tone unwavering. He was not having it.
"Being my mate would not be wonderful and lovely, not to her. You should have seen her face when I kissed her... I love her, but I could not be selfish..." Azriel tried to get Rhys to understand him, but the High Lord did not budge.
"I see right through you," Rhys stated, "you think you aren't good enough for her. But that isn't for you to decide. She had a right to know, had a right to choose if she wanted the bond or not. That girl has spent years loving you, Azriel. For a spymaster, you aren't very insightful."
Rhys gave Azriel one more look of disapproval and then brushed past him, leaving him standing in the corridor alone. Azriel leaned against the wall and sunk down into the floor, not even caring for the uncomfortable position his wings were in. He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. How did this get so fucked? Why did he have to ruin something as good as this?
-
You woke up the next morning feeling relatively better. Happy to not feel like your insides were exploding with ice and coldness. You sat in bed and took a small breath, reaching down that golden thread that tied you to Azriel and tugging on it. A mating bond. You and Azriel were mated, and he never told you. You jumped slightly when you felt him tugging back, and when you felt all of his emotions swirling inside you like a wildfire.
Rage. Grief. Sadness. You seethed. What was he sad for? He was the one that would come out of this unscathed. You ripped the sheets off your body and were not pleased to find your legs covered in frost-- the veins under your skin shining black. Black ice, black ice that alluded to your anger. You beelined to your bath chamber, and the house had already prepared a steaming hot bath for you.
Thank the Cauldron. You relaxed in the tub for what appeared to be hours, as you were unable and frankly unwilling to face Azriel. And it was grating feeling his emotions through the bond. After your bath, you dressed in your usual attire and slowly, quietly, made your way down to the kitchens. The house had placed a breakfast dish for you at the table, and you were about to sneak back up to your room when you saw a shadow dashing down the corridor and back to their master.
You rolled your eyes, it took Azriel all of two seconds to appear in the doorway, preventing you from going back up to your room. "Let me explain." He stated, his voice void of any emotions and his wings tucked tightly unto his back. You thought sleeping would have calmed your heart, but once you saw him-- all the emotions rose within you.
You shook your head, stepping backwards when his shadows tried to reach you, "what is there to explain?"
"Everything, there is everything to explain," he answered, taking a step towards you, only for you to physically recoil away from him. "You knew about the bond, knew that we were mates, and you never told me..." you breathed out, your heart threatening to leap out of your chest as his shadows coiled around your hands in a possessive, protective manner.
"I..."
"You have been lusting over another female for two years and I have been wishing she were dead, wishing I were her... fighting over a fucking sweater... only for you to be my mate all along? And you knew?!" You shrieked, your emotions pouring out of you like vomit that you could not control.
He opened his mouth to speak, but you were spewing more words before he could even start. "Just reject the bond, reject me and get it over with, reject me so you could go be with Elain."
"I do not want Elain... I want my mate..." Azriel said softly, a stark contrast to his usual hardened and rage-filled tone. "Now you want your mate?!" You scoffed angrily, chucking your breakfast plate in the trash. You were no longer hungry.
"I have always wanted my mate," he stated simply. You seethed at his words. "How long have you known?"
Azriel stilled, and you could see him Adams apple travelling down his throat as he gulped hard. "I..." he wanted to lie, because he knew you would never forgive him for this. "Since we met." He decided against lying.
You felt a knife being plunged into your chest at this knowledge. He had known for centuries and never told you. Centuries in which he took lovers, in which he fawned over Mor, in which he decided not to acknowledge you as his mate. Azriel's face went from stoic to solemn, his hazel eyes stuck on yours as you remained still-- trying to come to terms with this. "Reject me. Please. Reject me now..." your words were a whisper, so low that he almost didn't catch them.
He stumbled forward, scarred hands reaching for your own, but you snatched them away. "Please... I... I... I have a hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you... I love you... I swear..." you almost believed him, his eyes were so sad, his face looked so broken-- you could feel his honesty through the bond. But it wasn't enough.
"You do not..." you trembled, stepping back and back until you hit the cabinets behind you. Tears streamed down your face as you recalled all that you felt for him for all the centuries you had known him. The longing, the sadness, the self deprecation.
"I do, but I thought... who could ever love me? You've been my spy for centuries... you have seen my cruelty… seen what I am capable of." Azriel needed her to understand that it wasn't about her, it was about him. He was the problem.
"And I loved you! I loved you for all that you were... I still do... but this is not... you… you have no idea what it felt like. Having to watch you pine over Mor and then Elain while I died, while I made myself think I was not enough for your love!" You wailed, your heart breaking further than it had already; if that was even possible.
"You are good enough! Fuck!" Before you could even blink, he had thrown a punch at the cabinet next to you, making you yelp and flinch as the wood cracked under his powerful fist. He stilled, his arm falling to his side when he realized what he had done. How he had reacted.
You blinked, unmoving. "I think... I think..."
Azriel did not move, an icy rage settling over his expression, it made you shiver. "I..." he could not find what to say.
So you nodded your head. "I need space."
-
Author’s Note:
I just need her to be happy and not combust into ice
General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs
Series Taglist: @illiicits @dee-writes-smut @going-through-shit @saltedcoffeescotch @evergreenlark @starswholistenanddreamsanswered
There is no other Elain. It’s just Hannah Dodd. If you shook the books really hard, she would fall out. Bless @nanstgeorge you introduced me to Hannah Dodd Elain and it now lives in my head rent free.
A/N: So my first ever fic was Azriel angst…thus, this. I have curated what I consider to be the worst thing of all time, being someone’s second choice, especially if you are their soulmate.
Summary: When then mating bond finally snaps into place, what are you meant to do when you realise your mate has another in his heart, will you break it off to save yourself, or will your mate be able to save this heartbreak?
Request: N/A
Pairing: Azriel x Witch!Reader, Azriel x Elain, Nessian, Feysand.
Warnings: Angst. Tears. Mentions of witchcraft. Elain Slander. Being someone’s second option. (If you are in a similar situation, BREAK IT OFF. He or she is not worth it), Azriel being incredibly stupid. Elain slander. Thanks to @azrielhours for helping me come up with the idea! I also added my own take of the Hanahaki Disease with Azzy. Hope you enjoy, love you babes <3
My Masterlists & Rules
~*~*~*~*~
You walked down the hall, and noticed that there was a slight bounce in your step, smiling as you recalled the reason why. Today was finally the day, after weeks of going on countless missions for Rhys, Azriel could finally have dinner with you as usual, and just in time to. Today you were celebrating finally being able to finish the last book of your series, quite popular now, no doubt thanks to Feyre's connections to a famous publisher, which allowed the series to get the exposure it needed. (A/N: Is this how publishing books work? Someone please educate me)
Thanks to the help of Mor and Nesta's fashionable taste in dresses, they had picked out a wonderful dress. It was a dark navy blue, azriel's favourite colour, which faded into white with golden accents. The sleeves were off the shoulder, lined with flowers sewn and embroidered into the top. You were in absolute awe when you saw it and had tried it on immediately, thankfully it fit you well, and you wished the two females well before heading to bottom of the stairs to the House of Wind, where Azriel agreed to pick you up.
You wondered what he'd think as you fidgeted with the layers of your dress, occasionally summoning spells to pass time. During the first hour, you just played with your magic, bored. During the second hour, you begun to worry that he might have been injured during the mission. During the third, you were ready to summon Rhys
That's when Cassian and Nesta came across you and asked you why you weren't with Azriel and you made a painful realisation.
You had stood there, waiting like a fool. Thinking that maybe, your mate would still care enough to at least show up if he was tired from his mission. Stood there, until Nesta and Cassian came across you, Nesta demanding to know where Azriel was, Cassian puzzled as he claimed Azriel had come home hours before. And that's when you knew he had forgotten. And it hurt.
You shouldn't have been upset. After all, he could have been so tired and just landed in bed immediately, he could have been flooded with paperwork for the mission. Cassian offered to bring you to the House of Wind but y ou waved him off, telling him to enjoy the rest of his night with Nesta and not to worry about you.
You couldn't winnow. But you could do something else. After ensuring that no one could see you, you waved a hand in the air. Drawing precise shapes from memory. A light glowed in your hand, slowly swallowing your arm, then the rest of you. And when you closed your eyes because of how bright it was you felt the atmosphere shift. And with your fingers crossed you opened one eye, then the other, to see yourself standing in the living room of the House of Wind.
Witchcraft.
You had grown up as a witch, travelling across Prythian with your family and friends. That was before Amarantha's rule, before...everything. Before you witnessed you family slaughtered. Before you mustered up so much power you shouldn't even be alive. Before your friends needed to go into hiding. Before everyone thought witches were evil. And it wasn't just you. Bryaxis, was something of an old friend. You were no stranger to the weaver, the bone carver or the suriel. They had all been...friends. And such association with had had cause your kind to be deemed evil.
So you hid your power, you hid your identity. The only people you ever told was the inner circle, save Feyre's two sisters. You weren't comfortable with sharing it with new people, and everyone understood. You had told Nesta vague details, but tears had begun to form in your eyes and she embraced you, telling you that it was alright if you didn't wish to speak of it yet.
The memory made you smile. But once you remembered the situation at hand, it turned into a frown. Reaching out to that mating bond, you grasped it, but there was nothing on the pother side. Though Azriel was your lover, he hadn't experienced the bond for himself yet. You would wait for it to click for him, you didn't want to rush him.
Laughter caught your attention, and the distinct sound of your mate made you freeze as you faced the balcony. There they were. It was clear as day as your mate entered the House of Wind with Elain. Elain. You'd known that they had grown closer, but to leave you with no explanation and spend time with someone else. You blanched.
Azriel's eyes found yours and as they trailed down to your dress, the colour drained from his face. He truly had forgotten. Not for any rhyme or reason but because he was busy with someone else. Your vision began to blur, but you swallowed as you asked him one thing.
"Why?" It was so soft, you couldn't recognise your own voice. But Azriel flinched. You searched for an answer in his eyes but found none as he looked away. You begged him silently for a good reason, a good answer, anything but-
"I guess I just forgot, and she needed me for something important," It was as if he had slapped you. Turning away, tears streamed down your face, and with a wave of your hand a blinding light flashed and you were gone. Azriel left on his knees as he had tried to grab you, to convince you to stay, to let him make up for what he had forgotten, but never once thought about what he had just said, what he had just implied.
~*~*~*~*~
"He didn't!" Mor gasped. You nodded sadly and Nesta huffed as she sat back in her chair. Feyre was quiet as she stirred her tea. You couldn't imagine how they both felt. On one hand, Elain was their sister, but to even attempt on a man who already had a lover was beyond both of them. Feyre shook her head, in disbelief and disappointment. She exchanged looks with Nesta and cleared her throat.
"Perhaps, we sheltered Elain all her life, but it is no excuse for what she is doing, whether she realises it or not. I will speak to her about the issue at hand, but don't worry, I won't tell her about the bond," You smiled gratefully at the high lady and she excused herself to go to the bathroom. You couldn't help but be envious of the relationship she had. Though you would never want to date the High Lord, you wished that Azriel would care for you as much as Rhys did Feyre.
Sighing, you set your cup down, ready to leave for a meeting with Bryaxus - who was more than overjoyed when you begun to regularly visit him - and then you felt it, it was like your heart was being ripped out of you as you gasped, heaving, coughing. Mor sat up, alarmed, and Nesta moved to hold your back, soothing you. You hacked and watched in horror as blood and what looked like the petals of a flower came spewing out of your mouth.
You knew this disease.
You knew what it would do.
You knew what needed to be done.
"Get Madja," You coughed out to Mor, "Now! I need her now!" Raising your voice, you began to cough up more petals and more blood. Mor instantly winnowed out and was back within a few minutes, Madja hot on her heels as she rushed towards you. Your mind spun as you processed everything. Not this, anything but this, please.
After your coughing fit that scared the wits out of Mor and Nesta, you explained the disease to them. Madja nodded at your every word as she inspected the kind of flowers that you had coughed up.
Red Tulips. Soulmates.
Marigolds. Hurt.
Daffodils. Unrequited Love.
You cursed under your breath. Feyre had just returned and was quickly filled in on the situation. She paled as she took in the flowers, their meanings. Hours of listening to what Elain said flowers represented and now Feyre wish she had forgotten all of it. You started heaving again and Madja made you lean forward as you coughed up more petals into a paper bag.
Unbridled pain roared through the veins of your body as it began to come in paves. Whimpering, you brought your knees to your chest, but the coughing didn't stop. You were in near tears. How could you let this happen? Years of hearing about this disease and you were now victim to it. You couldn't help that your mate was in love with another, but why was this so much worse than the stories? You had seen the events of the disease transpire and it was no where near as bad-
"It's because you and Azriel are mates. In other cases, this only happens between two lovers...never mates. Mates usually have an instant connection, so it's very rare for one half to love another person entirely," Feyre explained. Nesta muttered something about how Tamlin should have gotten this cursed disease, but Feyre then explained that there was a difference between 'love' and 'obsession'. This couldn't be happening. You groaned into your palms, maybe you should go to the bathroom, lest the next thing you know you can't move.
Standing up, you took one step, then another, your vision bagan to tunnel, and you turned back to the sofa. You had to at least get back to a lying down position, but before you could, darkness hugged you like a warm, welcoming blanket.
~*~*~*~*~
Mor yelped as she rushed to keep Y/N from falling. Feyre immediately reaching out to Rhys to get everyone to go to the House of Wind immediately. It was an emergency. Rhys was there with Lucien in a heartbeat. For a second, Mor wondered where Azriel was, when booming beats of wings could be heard. Cassian rushing in, letting out a sigh of relief as he spied that Nesta was safe, Azriel with Elain in his arms entering soon after as he set her down.
Feyre, Mor and Nesta all scowled at the Shadow singer, assuming that it was because of Y/N he nodded at them apologetically. Which in turn made them all exchange enraged looks, Feyre making a mental note to tell Rhys to cut Azriel's hefty salary by at least half. Still a sizeable portion, but maybe he's start thinking about the consequences to his actions.
"We're here because of Y/N," Mor started and Elain scoffed. Feyre and Nesta were taken aback by the rude behaviour. Having enough of so many problems, Nesta spoke up. "Is there a problem, Elain?" Elain rolled her eyes and picked at her nails.
"Y/N is just jealous that Azriel decided that he didn't want to be with her anymore. Besides, there are so many other males for her, why those she have to target Azriel?" Nesta gritted her teeth, ready to yell at her ignorant sister, but decided against it as Mor began to speak.
"Y/N has contracted something called Hanahaki Disease, a disease cause my unrequited love towards another," This made Elain snort, but Mor continued, ignoring her, "Usually there would be time to try several cures, but in this case, it's..." More trailed off, unable to find the words, unable to utter the thing that would confirm her own fears. Feyre continued for her.
"She's dying. Fast. Madja says we have a day at best, hours at worse," The words were almost unheard, Cassian stared at Nesta, the devastation on her face, he glanced to Azriel, the bastard's face remained impassive, but as he reached to his mind, absolute chaos. Pain. Suffering.
Azriel felt paralysed when he heard the words. He might never be able to make up for the mistake he made. The hurt he caused his lover. But, something made him stop.
"You said usually, there would be more time. What's the difference in this case?" The question made Feyre pause. She glanced at her sister and friend but they both looked unsure. Should they tell him? They had sworn not to tell anyone but in a situation like this...
"You are her mate," Nesta softly muttered. So soft, that if it wasn't for everyone's Fae hearing, they would have passed it off as the wind. Elain gasped ion anger, and Azriel fell to his knees. No. It can't be. He mustn't have heard it right. His mate? But as he reached into his soul, he grasped the at the foreign golden thread that was foreign to him all this time, and tugged it hard. Images flooded his mind and he begun to weep.
The shadow singer, hardened by years of battle, war, and torture, begun to weep as he saw an invisible golden thread reach out, and go through the door where his mate probably was. And for the first time in centuries, he understood her. He saw her pain, her memories, her thoughts.
Horrified, he witnessed himself saying those words to her. Telling her that Elain was more important, telling her that another female was more important than his mate. He wanted to know when she found out about the bond, wanted to demand why she never told him, but now wasn't the time. He needed to get to her.
Faster then anyone could stop him, he got to his feet and ran. Tearing through the door and stopped as he saw her. She was so pale, sweat beaded down her forehead as her breaths were laboured. She wasn't even conscious. Shadows sang as they danced around her figure. Not right. Dying. Sick. Disease.
He felt himself being pulled back by Cassian, asking him to calm down, asking him to listen, but he couldn't. He was panicked. He couldn't leave her, not again, he needed her. He couldn't lose her after just finding out. It took both Rhys and Cassian to haul Azriel away, he screamed after his mate, screamed as he prayed, he didn't know to who, but if there was any slight chance that they'd let her wake up, if there was at least one good thing he'd done in all his existence that allowed him this one good thing, he'd bargain with the Gods for a chance to live the rest of his life with his mate. Would bargain away his own life.
He didn't know how long it was until Madja came out with a solemn look. He didn't know how long it was he stood there when she uttered those defining words. "She might not make it," Before she dragged him to the side.
"What is your relationship with Y/N?" She demanded. Azriel's head spun as he tried to recall what happened. "I...it's complicated," Madja paused at seeing the shadow singer falter after 500 years of walking through life without a care in the world. However, the answer he was giving was not going to help her save Y/N.
"Define it shadow singer! Give me details! Let me know what was happening that she became so ill!" She snapped. Azriel flinched. He knew she had every right to be annoyed at him. He was the cause of the illness and he couldn't even think straight, couldn’t even try to save her.
“I hurt her. I hurt her and I shouldn’t have, I stood her up, and then told her another female was more important. I grew distant. And now she’s suffering. Because of me,” He swallowed and Madja nodded. He ran his hand through his hair. Panic danced in his eyes and Madja sighed. This was complicated, never in all her year did she need to treat such a complicated case, even when Illyrians were on the brink of losing their wings. Even when she had to treat battle wounds that would leave the faint hearted in shambles.
She shook her head, turning to leave, voicing only one instruction as she walked out, “Break off whatever relationship you have with that Archeron Sister, and pray that you’re mate will wake,” He nodded and Madja left the shadow singer feeling empty, feeling as if he had nothing left in the world.
~*~*~*~*~
His foot steps felt heavy as he walked to the living room of the House of Wind. He couldn't believe this. All his life, he'd dreamed of meeting his mate. He'd dreamed of living out his life together with her, and now he might not even get to right the wrongs he had made. He might not even get to tell her that he was sorry for hurting her.
"So? What do we need to do?" Mor demanded as he came into view of the rest. He sighed as looked down at his scarred palms, ones who had done harm to thousands and he hadn't regretted it, not once. Until now. His own mate. Maybe karma really did exist. Maybe he shouldn't have been so cruel to so many people.
"I...I have to break up with Elain or she dies tonight," He said shakily. Everyone stared at him. Elain rolled her eyes once more. “What a drama queen. She’s such an attention seeker, right guys?” She looked around but no one seemed to agree. Her eyes seemed to flicker between surprise and resentment. “You guys are stupid, she’s not dying she’s just faking it,” She tried to say but Cassian brought a hand up, stopping her.
“You, dumb brat. You’re sisters have shielded you all their lives and the one time you have an opportunity that you aren’t just an empty headed child, you blow it!” Nesta tried to calm him down but everyone could tell that a part of her agreed with what her mate was saying. Rhysand then chimed in, “A member of my court, one of my closest friends, is dying. And you have the audacity, the gall, to say that she is attention seeking? I don’t care that you are my mate’s sister, but that disrespect will not be tolerated in my court, even so, my mate would agree with me. You have been born and raised sheltered and shielded from a broken world and instead of being thankful, instead of feeling an ounce of appreciation towards the female who saved your damn life, you ruined hers.” Feyre nodded, and as Elain looked around, she realised that no one was siding with her, not even Lucien.
She huffed, enraged by the outcome of this, before strutting out of the house of Wind. Nesta felt disheartened, she had been so protective of Elain that she had now turned into this uncaring monster, it made her feel like she had failed. Her emotions were echoed down the bond and Cassian turned towards her and hugged her, pressing her against him gently. The scene made Azriel feel alone, and so guilty. He could have had that, if he had just opened his damn eyes, if he hadn’t hurt her the way he did.
But now, he didn’t even know if his mate was going to make the end of the day. And he prayed to whatever god there was out there, that he’d get one more shot to make things right.
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Should I make part 2???? Idk T^T Hope you enjoyed <3
PART 2 IS OUT
@aroseinvelaris
If you wanna be tagged: Just ask and remember to specify if you wanna be tagged in just part 2 of this fic, all Azriel fics, any specific character fics/series, or just all my fics in certain fandoms. <3
Summary: Rhys tells Azriel to back off Elain and find release at a pleasure hall. Instead, Azriel finds you, Rhys' younger sister.
Or
The Princess of the Night Court becomes Azriels rebound. What could possibly go wrong?
Word count: 4.8k
Warnings: MDNI 18+, ANGST, hurt/no comfort, cheating? (not really tho you'll see), smut (p in v, oral, fingering) no use of yn, nicknames, drug use, alcohol.
A/n: I’m back from vacation and decided to do this one shot in between crown fit for a god. I really don't like using yn (its me not you) so every one of my fics will have a nickname but its still x reader. I’m sorry in advance if this hurts you. Anyway, enjoy. :)
“You will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.”
Azriel hadn't slept in weeks. The weight of his shame suddenly became too heavy for his illyrian shoulders. You weren't supposed to be this magnetic and he wasn't supposed to stick around this long. He told himself it was just going to be a quick fling, someone he could spend the night with and try to forget about her.
But you had always been in his company. Ever since you became of age he thought you were stunning and entirely too good for him. You were afterall Rhysands younger sister. The female version with equal power and even more beautiful. Graceful when needed, mostly among people of importance, and always polite and kind like a princess should be. You were a Princess for the people, earning the citizens trust and walking among them like each and every person was your friend. It was no secret why they preferred your company to their High Lord.
Your amethyst eyes were now engrained behind his very own eyelids, everytime he closed his eyes for the night, they shot wide open. The image of you under him all those nights and the soft moans as he took you to bed in the shroud of darkness. He really didn’t know how it happened, mostly, he blamed it on the alcohol. One night after Ritas was all it took for him to be obsessed, seeking you out when his loneliness threatened to consume him.
Azriel’s panting mixes with your own moans as he pumps himself inside you. The delicious drag of his thick cock leaves you breathless under him. His touch is gentle as he cups your cheek, his hazel eyes never leaving yours as he imagines forever in your arms. “You're so beautiful. Can’t believe I get to have you.” He coo’s as he trails soft kisses down your neck, nipping and biting your flesh, careful to not leave any marks. Your hands card through his dark waves, back arching off the bed when his lips attach to your pebbled nipple.
Kissing and biting at the fullness of your breasts, soothing away the love bruising he left on them previously. His scarred hands feel like silk when they roam the soft curves of your body, lighting a fire within you with each and every touch. Knees dig into the bed as he grips your hips, still completely sheathed inside you. He moves your body against his, matching the velocity of his thrusts. Deeper and deeper. One arm wraps around your waist while the other rubs tiny circles on your clit. His eyes never leave your beautiful face as his favorite part comes to life right before him. Your head is thrown back, mouth agape as pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach. “Oh fuck Az, don’t stop.” Azriel’s eyes sparkle with wonder as you fall apart beneath him. Toes curling as the force of your orgasm takes over all your senses. Azriel follows soon after. His pace stutters as your name falls from his lips with a groan. Spilling his seed into you with slow thrusts, ensuring each drop doesn't go to waste.
“You were so good for me baby,” he smiles as he peppers your face with kisses. Azriel pulls out with a hiss and you giggle into the covers when his toned ass walks to the bathroom. You pout adorably when he returns wearing a pair of low hanging pants, and a warm cloth in his hands. “None of that love. I’m all yours and very willing to give you seconds and thirds,” he waggles his eyebrows and nestles between your legs. No shame or embarrassment from neither of you as he gently cleans you up. In between his gentle wipes he places a loud kiss to your core, “so fucken pretty.”
“Pink or Red?” He asks, looking through your assortment of panties, imagining how you'd look wearing the lacey ones. “Black.” Is all you reply and Azriels grin widens when you pick the lacey ones.
He insists on helping you get dressed, pinching your butt and digging his fingers in your sides, making you giggle. You swat his greedy hands away. knowing it's just an excuse to keep touching you. “I’m not going to let you help me next time, all you do is tickle me,” you joke, knowing very well you couldn’t keep him away if you tried. “Fine. I won’t tickle you next time,” he says, crossing his arms with a sly grin on his handsome face.
“You said that last time, and the time before that too.”
Like a true Royal he fed you ripe grapes from the vine, watching intently as you parted your mouth for the sweet berry. Azriel licked his lips when your mouth wrapped around the fruit, making you chuckle as you pulled it off the stem. “When you said snacks this is not what I had in mind. I was thinking more like dessert.”
“Then you should know what to expect. Now come to bed, and snack with me.” Azriel moves to lay on the bed and opens the covers. Patting the space next to him with the palm of his hand, beckoning you next to him. You don’t have to be told twice, because this was without a doubt your favorite part. Like clockwork Azriel requested all your favorite snacks and without hesitation the house delivered.
“You just had dessert baby,” he teased with a shit eating grin as he gestured to his cock. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped from the back of your throat, causing you both to burst into fits of laughter, giggling like children. Who knew the shadowsinger belly laughed so openly. Something he only did with you. Once your laughs died down Azriel indulged you with a sweet treat. Again offering to spoon feed you, taking every chance to lick frosting off your glossy lips or fingers.
By the end of the night you couldn't believe how sore your cheeks were from laughing so hard. Azriel had this charm about him, and you couldn’t get enough. You draped your arm over his toned stomach. Head nestled against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his strong heart, a melody you loved to fall asleep to. He held you close to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair, “Goodnight baby,” he whispered.
“Night Az, I love you.”
Silence.
Azriel didn’t sleep that night. Neither did you. You didn’t expect him to say the words back, because he’d shown you he loved you in his actions alone. But his coldness afterward was unexpected. He laid still under you. No longer stroking your hair, or rubbing small circles on your back. It was like all the air had left his body yet the rhythm of his heart increased, hammering against his chest with the ferocity of a freight train. If he felt your saddened tears fall on his chest he didn’t mention it, too caught up in his thoughts to console you.
But now all his thoughts were of you and how quick your love had turned bitter when he didn't respond after you had said those three words to him.
He was an idiot. Because he did love you. At the very sight of you his heart beat wildly in his chest. He wanted to spend every waking moment holding your hand and kissing your perfect lips. Fall asleep with you in his arms only to be awoken by your feminine beauty. But Rhysand was unaware that you two were in a relationship. Were you in a relationship? He never asked. Wanted to. But he didn’t. He couldn’t imagine a day where Rhys would accept him as your lover. Rhys had been furious that he wanted to sleep with Elain, threatening him to no end. He couldn't imagine the anger if he were to find out that he turned his efforts to you instead. There were only a few things Azriel was scared of. Rhysands fury if he were to ever find out he’s been sleeping with his sister. And losing you. Those sort of went hand and hand didn’t they.
You woke up alone the following morning. Thinking that your confession was too much for the shadowsinger. And perhaps you were just one of his many conquests added to the long list of females that warmed his bed. For as long as you knew Azriel he only had casual flings, nothing of substance. No one he introduced to his family. It made you feel stupid. He made you feel stupid. Hoping that you were the one he could call home. Someone he could envision spending the rest of his life with. You could forgive him for not saying ‘I love you’ back. That didn’t stop you from loving him and that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you. Because surely he did right?
Right?
It wasn’t just that though, you had overheard Azriel tell Cassian sleeping with you was a mistake and that choosing you to be his rebound hadn’t worked out for him. “She said she loved me. It’s just all wrong. This wasn’t how I wanted things to go between us-” You didn’t bother hearing the rest of the conversation. Azriel’s words left your heart gaping, a wound so large you were afraid no one could mend it.
You had missed the importance of his following words, how Azriel wished he had done things right with you. Courted you the right way, with flowers and lovely dates to the finest eateries. Taking things slow at first, holding hands and sweet kisses under the moonlight. You didn’t hear Azriel explain that you had become more than he ever expected, more than just a rebound. He wanted a life with you. Now and forever, just you two and the family he always wanted.
You’d both move into a beautiful house just along the Sidra where you’d spend hours decorating every room to your liking. He’d soon marry you in front of all his family and friends, wearing the finest gown that glittered brighter than the night sky. During the mating frenzy, because of course you were his mate, he’d be sure to fuck a baby into you. And if his seed didn’t stick he wouldn't stop until your scent shifted to one of a pregnant female. He just hoped that Rhysand would give his blessing.
Now everytime Azriel tried to seek you out, you were nowhere to be found. Like you had just vanished from the Night Court, even though the other members had interactions with you. You suddenly had no time for Azriel. The citizens of Velaris saw you less and less and when they did, your time spent was cut in half. Your joyous laughter no longer echoed the halls of the House of Wind, instead Cassian and Nesta’s not so secret sex romps were becoming more frequent. You had changed your entire schedule to avoid crossing paths with the shadowsinger.
You no longer spent your mornings having breakfast with Rhysand and Feyre, instead you woke up earlier than usual and held your morning breakfast in the library.
“Why are you having breakfast here and not with Rhys?” Azriels hazel eyes took you in as he neared, noticing your tense shoulders. Closing the book in your hand, now finished with your chapter, you stand and gather your items into your bag, “was just catching up on some reading.” You don’t meet his gaze, the sight of him too painful for your heart to bear. “You haven’t been training with Cassian either,” he continues. “Or shopping with Mor. You haven't exchanged books with Nesta and,” Azriel towers over you, his breath fanning over your cheek at his closeness, “you haven’t warmed my bed.” Your eyes finally meet his, a look of desire in his warm eyes as his hands come up to cup your face. A glance over his shoulder has you pulling away from his touch as Elain enters the library, her soft voice dancing along the walls, “Hi Az.”
He ignores her completely, doesn’t even spare her a glance. But your eyes travel from her to him and back again. You see the fondness she has for him in the flush of her cheeks and the way her voice sings as she calls his name.
Memories of their subtle interactions come crashing into your mind. Her shy gaze whenever he walked in the room. The slight brush of fingers when they crossed paths, his lingering gaze when she exited a room.
He’s not yours, and you're not his. Never was, never will be. It dawns on you then that all the soft touches and lingering glances were never sincere but simply a ploy to get Elain jealous. Everytime you made love to him you gave a part of yourself, hoping he would accept you with open arms and an open heart.
You had hoped you were the only one in his life that made him throw his head back, eyes closed shut in ecstasy. But it's clear now when he closed his eyes he saw Elain riding him instead, not you. She was who he really wanted and you were just a placeholder. The rebound.
He knows you well enough to tell when you're about to fall apart and now is one of those instances. It clicks for him now why he hasn’t seen you. Azriel catches your arm before you dart away, his touch gentle yet firm “you're avoiding me.” He says, worry etched all over his face as he attempts to pull you into his chest. “I’ve figured it out so you can stop pretending to care about me now.” A tear escapes your waterline and Azriel reaches to thumb away the hurt that he's caused.
You don't give him the chance as you swat his hand away and turn to make your exit. He’s panicking now watching you practically run away from him, as you hurry to get away from his presence.
A wound so intense suddenly opens within his heart. With no other option but to just blurt out the first thing that comes to his mind to keep you close. “I adore you!” he says breathlessly and waits for you to run into his arms so he could kiss you silly. When you turn around to confront him, Elain comes up from behind him and wraps her arms around his middle in a tight squeeze. A picture perfect couple you think to yourself, her innocent personality and bubbly nature a lovely contrast to his tall, dark and handsome. Azriel can’t pry her arms off him in time to chase after you before you rush out of the library, traces of your scent still lingering in the air.
You run and run you're not sure for how long, just long enough till your tears are dried tracks along your soft cheeks. You find yourself in the arms of your brother, clutching his shirt in your closed fist as you loosen the cries that held your throat hostage. “Hey hey, what's wrong?” he coo’s pulling away just enough to see the heartbreak etched in your pretty face. “Send me away please Rhys, I am begging. I never ask anything of you, it doesn’t have to be forever, just a few months.” Your shoulders are shaking violently as you continue to wail into his chest, the intensity of your cries cracking the high lord into submission. “Are you sure, love? I can fix-”
“No! There's nothing you can do.”
Rhys nods, winnowing you to a secret cabin that sits along the border of The Night Court. “Just tell me this. Are you in any danger?” he asks, “because I know Azriel and Cassian or even myself will-”
You wince at the mention of Azriels name, “I’m not in any danger, brother.” You assure him as you settle on the couch in front of the hearth, pulling a warm throw over your body and curling in on yourself. “Good, that’s good. I’ll talk to Kallias. He has someone he wants you to meet. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hosting you for as long as you need.” Rhysand takes one last look at you, studying how unhappy you look, hoping you can confide in him your troubles, whatever they may be. You lay bundled under the comfort of the blanket, your glossy eyes staring into the flames of the fireplace. It’s heat providing a comfort you wish was someone else's.
Azriel enters your room frantically searching for you, but he gasps and stumbles back when he sees Cerridwen packing your belongings. “Where is she?” he asks, his voice tense and panicked as he grips her by the shoulders. “I’m afraid I don’t have that information.”
“Why are you packing her stuff then?” He starts shaking her shoulders, as if it would quicken her answer. “She’ll be visiting the Winter Court and Rhysand requests her favorite items to be sent to her.”
You were running away from him, when all he wanted was to run toward you. Azriels world shattered completely. If you weren't here to live beside him then he had no interest in living. He had been too complacent in being in the now and not once had he initiated to be something serious. Now he was left with longing.
That same night Rhysand made accommodations for you to stay in the Winter Courts Palace. Kallias and Vivienne were more than happy to have you stay with them. They were quite eager to introduce you to their son Kit. Hoping that with time you’d become great friends. Kit was the spitting image of his father. His white hair styled to perfection, with not a single strand misplaced. Chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw, pouty lips with Icy blue eyes to match his cool demeanor. His eyes trailed your beautiful curves as he bowed, taking your hand within his, placing a tender kiss to your delicate knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Princess.”
Your violet eyes met his and for a moment his pretty face made you forget about your heartbreak. Kit extended his elbow to you and without a second doubt you linked your arm with his as he led you to see the beauty of his Court.
You spent the next two weeks in the company of the future Heir. Kit remained a respectful host. Introducing you to his closest friends, a welcomed change of personalities compared to your friends from home. Each evening he’d join you for dinner. Offering a different restaurant each night in hopes to expand your palate in order to get a feel for your favorite foods.
During your brief stay you opened up to him and told him of the situationship you had with Azriel. You explained to him what you overheard Azriel say and how stupid he made you feel after you confessed your love for him. “I finally saw the way he looked at her and it broke me more than it should have, because I remember when he looked at me the same way. I heard him tell Cass that I was just the girl he picked to get over her. I never meant anything to him. Yet this whole time it had been real for me and I foolishly fell in love with him.”
“Oh sweetheart, you deserve to be someone's first and only choice. You’re a Princess of The Night Court, if anyones the stupid one It’s him for not seeing how incredible you are.” With the end of his sweater sleeve, Kit wipes away a stray tear that escaped your waterline. His gentleness is a stark contrast to the ice flowing within his veins. “Besides I hear there's a handsome Prince looking for a warm heart to thaw the coldness in his soul,” he smirks playfully, rocking on the heels on his feet, a look of innocence in his crystal eyes. Your sweet giggle transcends into his favorite song and he makes it a mission to hear it often.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Azriel was tearing himself apart from the inside out. By the third day of being plastered and starting fights with innocent bystanders; Rhys had pulled him off missions until he sobered up enough to function. All that did was give him a larger drinking window. He visited every winery and brewery in Verlaris, sometimes even forgetting how he got there in the first place. Drowning in bottles of liquor till he could barely stand, let alone fly or walk or do anything for that matter. Tonight was different from the past two weeks, as he decided to smoke his problems away, alcohol no longer providing the high that made him forget.
The strain for tonight was Mirthroot laced with Amnesia Haze, a hallucinogenic that could either make your deepest wish a reality or make you completely forget your life's problems.
Azriel couldn’t remember how he got up the steps to the house of wind. He couldn’t remember lots of things as of late. One thing he’d never forget though, was your scent and the way you made him feel. So when he opened the door to the house and your sensual perfume hit his nose he almost fell to his knees with relief.
You were finally home. He could explain himself and tell you that he loved you and that you meant the world to him. Azriel followed your scent like it was second nature. His shadows excitedly rushed up stairs towards your bed chambers, leaving him slightly confused because you were sitting at the kitchen Table.
Your hair was long in flowy waves down your back, a little longer since the last time he saw you. It hadn't been that long had it? It didn’t matter, all he wanted was to hold you in his arms again. Keep you safe in Velaris where you belong. Azriel slowly approached you, his breath shaky as he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Vi?”
Violet, the nickname you were given for your stunning eyes with various shades of purple and blue. Your eyes met his and you smiled, “Hi Az.”
“Gods I missed you,” he admitted as he pulled you up from the chair, enveloping you in a warm embrace. You were slightly startled at how tight he hugged you. Inhaling your scent deeply as his nose nuzzled against your neck. “I’m so sorry, for everything. Please forgive me?” Azriel cupped your face between his scarred hands, angling you to look up at him. His pupils were large and dilated, a gaze mixed with sorrow and lust. Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Az? What are you talking about?”
“Come here, I need to tell you something.” Azriel lifted you onto the kitchen counter, earning a small yelp from your lips. He settled between your knees, making your thin night dress pool around your hips. His hands remained on your exposed thighs, rubbing them softly to keep you warm. His eyes never strayed from yours, like he couldn't believe you were actually here. “I made a mistake and should have never let you feel like you were the wrong choice. I don’t care what Rhys says anymore. I want you.”
His hands inch closer to your center, a silent request to touch you as the other brings your lips to his in a steamy kiss. You nod into the kiss, giving him permission to touch you. Azriel pulls your panties to the side, easily coating his fingers in your arousal, groaning when he feels how wet you already are from his kiss alone.
Your breath catches when he slips his fingers inside and curls them in a come hither motion. “Oh gods Az, I’ve dreamed of this moment,” you pant into his mouth, needing more of him, anything he's willing to give you’ll take. He then rubs tiny circles on your clit, making you throw your head back so hard it slams against the cupboard in a loud thud. White flashes behind your eyes as your orgasm crashes over you, a giddy smile plastered on your face from the pleasure he's given you.
You hop off the counter, eager to return the favor. Palming his cock, you notice he's barely hard, a groan escapes his mouth as you fumble with his belt. You pull Azriels pants down along with his underwear, pooling at his ankles, his cock still not fully erect. Your small hand grips him at the base, making him hiss. He sways side to side, eyes closed as he concentrates on getting hard, something he's never had to do before. You pump his shaft. Once. Twice. And then you wrap your lips around his cock and suck, the warmth of your mouth excites him and he stands at attention, finally. “So the rumors are true,” you coo.
“Fuck baby, your mouth feels so good. I Fucken love you.”
Wait. What rumors?
“Azriel?”
Azriels eyes fly open. You're standing in the doorway, shaking like a leaf in the wind with a hand over your mouth. Sobbing loudly into your hand, tears blurring your vision as they escape your waterline. Heavy drops fall to the ground and the only sound heard is the unmistakable ‘pop’ as the female on her knees releases Azriels cock from her mouth.
Azriel blinks rapidly, shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the haze he's in. He looks down to the female, stuffing his cock back in his pants as she's scrambling to get up.
“Elain?” he chokes out her name, tears welling in his eyes as he stares at her, devastation in his wide eyes as he realizes what he's done. What he did to her thinking she was you. His eyes turn to meet yours again, but he only catches your dress billowing as you turn around and run. Your loud wailing echoing in his ears like a hammer to a church bell.
“Vi wait! Please. It’s not what you think!” He yells, rushing past Elain as he sprints after you, needing to reach you before you winnow away. His heavy footsteps pound against the tile floors, waking up the rest of the inner circle. Just as you're about to reach the knob Azriels arms wrap around your middle, pulling your back to his chest. You both crash to the ground from the force of Azriels tackle. His back meets the hard floor in a loud slam, cushioning your fall. “Let me go!” You plead, kicking and clawing at his arms that are tightly wrapped around you. “Sshh, baby please. Listen to me.” his voice cracks as he tries to calm you down, “I love you, I love you so much. I thought she was you!! Please believe me!”
Your voice slices through him, like a dagger to his already bleeding heart. “I hate you!” You scream out in anger, venom lacing every word as it hits its mark. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!”
Darkness envelops the entire room, It’s cold mist threatening to devour anyone who so dares to defy its power. “Azriel, release my sister before I sever those hands off your body.” Rhys stands at the bottom of the stairs, his power bouncing off him like flames of a fire. The rest of the inner circle gathered around him, watching in horror as both males stood off in a staring contest. It’s Azriel who wavers; finally releasing you to shuffle away from him.
Azriel sits on his heels, a subtle submissive pose showing respect to his High Lord. “Rhys, I’m sorry. I’ve been in love with your sister for some time now. Too cowardice to tell you or her,” Azriels gaze falls on you. “I’ve been a mess since you left. Masking my pain with alcohol and drugs, which is no excuse. But tonight I took a hallucinogen, and,” his chin wobbles as he tries to hold back his tears, “I made the biggest mistake of my life. I know I’ve lost you, and you will never forgive me. However, I need you to know, in front of everyone, that I have always loved you. I will always love you.”
Azriel lowers his head. The flood of emotions finally pulled him under the surface, drowning him in his own misery. Fat heavy tears break from his eyes; landing in scattered drops along the floor beneath him. This pain is all consuming, torturous in its own vile way. Tearing at his heart shred by shred, a disastrous mess all by his own hands. A lonely scarred heart to match his scarred hands. Hands that once held the most precious gem, a rare Violet beauty; now only hold the memory of a lost love.
When Azriel lifts his head to see your face for the last time, he’s once again too late. Fear latches onto his ankles like a heavy chain, anchoring him to the bottom of the sea. You’re gone. His darkness driving away your bright light, leading you into the arms of someone new.
SUMMARY it's been two years, you want sex with your mate, but it seems Azriel is hesitant. Good thing bestie LuLu is here to help ;)
CONTENT WARNINGS sex! (there will be a note before if you wish to skip), MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap, y'all), Lucien being a nosy horndog (?)
AUTHORS NOTE c'mon, you didn't think I was just going to leave you without a smut scene! What do you make me for, a monster?!
As the world awakens from its winter slumber, a symphony of sensations fills the prevernal air, weaving a tapestry of seduction that tantalizes the senses and stirs the soul. The earth, still moist from the thawing frost, exhales a heady fragrance of rebirth, a delicate mingling of damp soil and budding life that beckons with whispered promises of renewal. Each step upon the awakening land is a dance with temptation, as the soft, yielding earth caresses the feet with a sensuous touch that ignites a primal longing deep within.
Above, the sun emerges from its hibernation, casting its golden rays upon the landscape like a lover's embrace. Its warmth, once forgotten, now envelopes the skin in a tender caress, coaxing the slumbering earth to awaken from its wintry dreams. And awaken it does, with a flourish of color and life that ignites the senses with an intoxicating fervor. Delicate blossoms unfurl their petals in a symphony of hues, their fragrant perfumes mingling with the crispness of the air in a sensual ballet of scent.
Everywhere, the world pulses with the rhythm of desire, from the gentle rustle of awakening leaves to the melodious trill of amorous birdsong. Each breeze carries with it a whisper of passion, stirring dormant desires and kindling flames of longing that smolder just beneath the surface. In the prelude to spring, every sensation is heightened, every moment pregnant with possibility, as the allure of new beginnings hangs heavy in the air like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.
In this season of rebirth, nature herself becomes the ultimate seductress, her beauty a bewitching spell that enraptures all who dare to surrender to her charms. And so, beneath the canopy of prevernal skies, amidst the vibrant tapestry of blossoms and verdant greenery, the world becomes a playground of desire, where every touch, every scent, every sight ignites the flames of passion and invites the soul to embrace the sensual delights of the season.
It had been a little over two years since I lost my wings to Lyris, since I found out Azriel is my mate, and the last two years have been good. Sure, there have been moments where I fell back into that dark space, but Azriel was always there, ready to pull me back into the light when I was done reflecting.
During that time, our lives have undergone significant changes. Azriel and I were gifted a townhouse by Feyre and Rhys, providing us with our own space to build a life together. Additionally, my friendship with Lucien had deepened. Though we had only met briefly before the incident with my wings, our connection had grown, and now he joined me every weekend for a night out in the Night Court.
Despite the progress in our lives, there remained an unspoken tension between Azriel and me. While he was attentive and affectionate, there was a notable absence of intimacy. Though he'd shower with me, share kisses, and embrace me, our relationship had not progressed beyond that point. I'd attempted to initiate intimacy, but each time Azriel seemed to retreat, offering excuses that left me feeling frustrated and unfulfilled.
As Lucien and I entered the bustling tavern, the familiar sights and sounds of Velaris washed over me, momentarily distracting me from my tangled thoughts. The scent of ale and roasted meat filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and chatter that filled every corner of the room.
I glanced around, searching for a quiet corner where we could sit and talk. The tavern was packed with patrons, each one lost in their own conversations and revelries.
Lucien followed my lead, his eyes scanning the room as he sought out the perfect spot. "How about over there?" he suggested, nodding towards a cozy corner booth bathed in soft candlelight.
I nodded in agreement, grateful for his intuition. Together, we made our way over to the booth and settled in, the comfortable silence between us speaking volumes.
"So," Lucien began, breaking the silence with a curious glint in his eye, "what's been on your mind lately, songbird?"
I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to broach the subject. But then, with a deep breath, I decided to lay it all out on the table. "Azriel," I confessed, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Lucien's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze locking with mine in a silent exchange of understanding. He knew exactly what I was talking about, without me having to say another word.
"He's been… distant," I continued, my voice tinged with frustration. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Lucien. I've tried everything I can think of, but he always pulls away."
Lucien's expression softened, his hand reaching out to cover mine in a comforting gesture. "I'm sure it's not you," he reassured me, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Azriel's been through a lot, as have you. Maybe he just needs some more time."
I nodded, taking solace in his words. "I hope you're right," I replied, trying to keep the doubt from creeping into my voice. But deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that there was a distance between Azriel and me that I couldn't bridge no matter how hard I tried. Then, an idea sparked in my mind, and I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What if I tried… something different?" I suggested, a mischievous glint in my eye.
He raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Different how?" he asked, leaning in even closer to hear my suggestion. "Songbird, are you suggesting I help you to seduce your mate?” Lucien chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye to match the slight blush across his cheeks.
“That’s exactly what I’m asking for my wonderful Lord of Foxes” I smirked, listening to his joyous laugh dancing through the tavern like silk in the wind. It made me smile, to hear him distracted from his own mate related sorrows.
“Trying to butter me up, are we?” He grinned, shaking his head at my answering snicker. “What if you were to seduce him?" Lucien suggested, his tone playful yet suggestive. "Show him just how much you desire him, and maybe he won't be able to resist."
I considered the suggestion, a thrill of excitement coursing through me at the thought of finally crossing that line with Azriel. "How would I do that?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Lucien grinned, clearly enjoying our clandestine conversation. "You could start by wearing something… provocative," he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Show him what he's been missing out on."
I blushed at the suggestion, the idea of dressing up to seduce Azriel both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "That could work," I admitted, feeling a surge of determination building within me.
Lucien nodded in approval. "And what about… teasing him?" he suggested, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Give him little hints of what's to come, and let his imagination do the rest."
I swallowed hard at the suggestion, the thought of teasing Azriel sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. "That could definitely get his attention," I agreed, my mind already racing with possibilities, but as we continued to brainstorm, I couldn't shake the feeling of nervous excitement building within me. Maybe this was exactly what Azriel and I needed to finally take that next step, to bridge the gap that had been growing between us.
“But,” Lucien interjected, raising a finger and pointing it at me, “you could also try talking to him.” I raised a brow at this, and he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if a physical reminder of the weight of his sorrows, “I know that it’s not working with Elain, but you an-”
“Luce,” I say softly, interrupting him with a soothing hand on his warm arm, “I would never use that against you, not even in a stupid disagreement, c’mon.” I watch as his cheeks redden, his head falling, long, golden-red hair hiding his expression.
Tonight was going to be a late night.
It had been weeks, and this evening had been meticulously planned, every detail carefully orchestrated in my attempt to seduce Azriel. I had adorned myself in my most alluring attire, a dress that clung to every curve, and had spent hours perfecting my makeup and hair.
As Azriel stepped through the door of our townhouse, I greeted him with a coy smile, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation. Tonight was the night I would finally make my move, the night I would show him just how much I desired him.
"Hey, Az," I purred, sauntering over to him with what I hoped was a seductive sway in my hips. "Did you have a good day?"
He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he took in my appearance. "It was fine," he replied, his voice low and husky. "What about you?"
I smiled, feeling a surge of confidence at his response. "Oh, you know," I said, my voice laced with playful flirtation. "Just counting down the minutes until you got home."
But as I began to put my plan into action, things quickly took an unexpected turn. My attempts at seduction came off as clumsy and awkward, each gesture more embarrassing than the last.
I tried to flirt, to tease him with suggestive remarks, but my words came out jumbled and incoherent. "You must be tired," I blurted out, cringing at my own lack of finesse. "Maybe I could help you relax?"
Azriel watched me with a bemused expression, clearly unsure of how to respond to my awkward advances. "Um, sure," he said, his tone cautious as he took a step back, clearly sensing my nervous energy.
I attempted to initiate physical contact, to seduce him with a touch, but my hands fumbled clumsily and fell short of their mark. I reached out to brush a lock of hair from his face, but ended up poking him in the eye instead.
"Ow!" Azriel exclaimed, blinking rapidly as he recoiled from my touch. "Are you okay?"
I winced, mortified by my own clumsiness. "I'm so sorry," I stammered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to…"
But it wasn't until I saw the disappointment in Azriel's eyes that the full weight of my humiliation hit me. I had wanted so desperately to seduce him, to show him just how much he meant to me, but instead, I had only succeeded in making a fool of myself.
Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and stinging, as I turned away from him, unable to bear the thought of him seeing me in such a vulnerable state. I had wanted tonight to be perfect, but instead, it had been a disaster of epic proportions.
"Hey," Azriel's voice was gentle, his hand reaching out to touch my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "Are you okay?"
I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump forming in my throat. How could I explain to him the depths of my humiliation, the sheer magnitude of my disappointment? Azriel wasn't one to give up easily. With infinite patience, he wrapped me in his arms, holding me close as I sobbed against his chest.
After I took a few moments to collect myself while Azriel held me close, his warmth enveloping me, I was able to take a deep breath and steady my emotions before speaking up. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible against the fabric of his shirt. "I just wanted tonight to be special."
Azriel's arms tightened around me, his touch a comforting anchor amidst the storm of my emotions. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "We can try again another time."
I sniffled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me at his understanding. "But why?" I blurted out, the question tumbling from my lips before I could stop it. "Why won't you… why won't you make love to me?"
Azriel pulled back slightly, his expression unreadable as he looked down at me. "It's not that I don't want to," he spluttered, “believe me, honey, I’ve wanted nothing more these last couple years,” he encouraged with a low growl, his eyes darkening for a moment. “But,” Azriel continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "It's just… complicated."
My heart sank at his words, a knot of worry forming in the pit of my stomach. "Complicated how?" I pressed, my voice trembling with uncertainty.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. "I don't want you to feel… obligated," he admitted, his gaze filled with concern. "After everything you've been through, I don't want you to feel like you have to… do this with me."
I blinked in surprise at his confession, the weight of his words sinking in. "But I want to," I insisted, my voice firm with determination. "I want to be with you, Az. I want this."
Azriel's expression softened at my words, his eyes meeting mine in a silent exchange of understanding. "I know," he said, his voice gentle and reassuring. "But I don't want you to rush into anything because you feel like you have to."
Tears welled up in my eyes at his concern, the depth of his love washing over me like a wave. "I'm not rushing," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath. "I'm ready."
Azriel's gaze softened at my words, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "Okay."
The weight of Azriel's concern lingered in the air between us, casting a shadow over our tender moment. I bit my lip, gathering my courage before speaking again. "Az," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, "can we try tonight?"
His brows furrowed in concern, his gaze searching mine as if trying to gauge my sincerity. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone gentle yet cautious.
I nodded, a determined glint in my eyes. "Yes," I replied, my voice stronger this time. "I want this, Az. I want to be with you."
Azriel studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he weighed my words. Finally, he let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing as if he had come to a decision. "Okay," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and resolve. "But only if you're absolutely sure."
I nodded, a sense of gratitude swelling within me at his understanding. "I am," I assured him, my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach. "I trust you, Az. I always have."
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes softening with warmth and affection. "I love you," he said, his voice a gentle caress that soothed the ache in my heart.
"I love you too," I whispered, feeling a sense of peace settle over me as I nestled into his embrace.
The air between us crackled with tension as we made our way to our bedroom, our footsteps echoing in the quiet of the townhouse. Despite our earlier conversation, a nervous energy hung heavy in the air, making each moment feel strained and uncertain.
I stole a glance at Azriel out of the corner of my eye, finding him watching me with a mixture of apprehension and longing. My heart skipped a beat at the sight, the weight of his gaze sending a shiver down my spine.
As we reached the door to our bedroom, I paused, my hand hovering uncertainly over the handle. "Are you sure about this?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Azriel nodded, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Yes," he replied, his voice steady despite the nerves that flickered in his eyes. "I want to be with you, more than anything, as long as you're ready."
I swallowed hard, feeling a surge of emotion welling up inside me, not immune to the irony of the question. With a shaky breath, I pushed open the door, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the room. We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving, as if unsure of what to do next. But then, with a shared glance, we moved as one, closing the distance between us with hesitant steps.
I reached out to touch him, my fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek. "I love you," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart.
Azriel's eyes softened at my words, his hand coming up to cradle my face in a gentle caress. "I love you too," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper that sent a shiver down my spine.
And then, with a shared smile, we began to undress, each movement slow and deliberate as we shed the layers that separated us. It was awkward at first, our hands fumbling and uncertain as we navigated the unfamiliar terrain of each other's bodies.
But as we moved together, our laughter mingling with the soft sounds of the night, something shifted between us. The tension that had once hung heavy in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of ease and familiarity that washed over us like a warm embrace.
(MDNI SMUT AFTER THE CUT)
Azriel's touch is a symphony of sensations, each brush of his fingertips sending sparks of desire dancing along my skin. He starts with feather-light caresses, tracing invisible patterns across the curve of my jaw, down the length of my neck, and along the swell of my collarbones. Each touch is a promise of things to come, a tantalizing tease that leaves me yearning for more.
His lips follow the path his fingers have traced, pressing soft, lingering kisses against my skin. He explores every inch of me with a reverence that takes my breath away, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I gasp as his lips find the hollow of my throat, his tongue tracing delicate circles against my pulse point.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my skin, his voice low and husky with desire. I shiver at his words, a rush of heat pooling between my thighs.
As he continues to explore, his hands roam freely over my body, mapping every curve and contour with a hunger that mirrors my own. He cups the weight of my breasts in his palms, his thumbs brushing lightly over my hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through me.
"Azriel," I whisper, my voice trembling with longing as I arch into his touch, a low moan escaping my lips as he takes one swollen nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling with a fervor that leaves me dizzy with desire. His other hand travels lower, skimming across the sensitive skin of my abdomen before dipping between my thighs.
I gasp as his fingers find the heat between my legs, teasing me with maddening slowness. He circles my clit with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make me squirm.
"You drive me wild," he confesses, his breath hot against my skin as he slides a single finger inside me, testing my readiness. I'm already slick with desire, my body eager for more of him. I rock my hips against his hand, wordlessly urging him to continue. With a low growl of approval, Azriel adds a second finger, stretching me in the most exquisite way possible.
I moan his name, my fingers tangling in his dark locks as I pull him closer, desperate for more of his touch. "I want you," I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper.
“All good things come to those who wait,” he smirks against my breast, his tongue swiping at my hardened nipple.
“Please,” I whine, my hips meeting his gentle thrusts, the soft squelching noises between my thighs steadily growing louder and more frequent. He complies eagerly, increasing the pace and pressure of his ministrations until I'm teetering on the edge of oblivion, every nerve in my body singing with pleasure.
And just when I think I can't take any more, he withdraws his fingers, leaving me gasping and aching for release. With a wicked smile, he leans up to capture my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with mine in a dance as old as time.
I lose myself in the kiss, the world narrowing down to the feel of his lips against mine, the taste of him on my tongue. We part with fierce huffs of breaths as he reaches down to ready himself, using the slick he collected between my thighs to lather his thick length. I whimper at the sight of it, his long, intimidating length, prettily flushed and already dripping precum.
Azriel shushes me softly as he lines himself up, slowly sliding himself against my clit for a moment before notching at my entrance. With a deep breath, he slowly starts to slide in.
I let out a long gasp, my hands flying to his shoulders as he hovers above me, his face pinched so beautifully in both pleasure and concentration.
“Gods,” he whimpers as his thighs meet mine, my heart flipping at the sound and before soon Azriel and I meld together in a dance of desire, our bodies moving in perfect synchronization. The heat between us ignites, consuming us in a blaze of passion as we lose ourselves in the ecstasy of our union.
Azriel's movements are primal and unrestrained, each thrust driving me closer to the edge of oblivion. I cling to him, my nails digging into his skin as I meet him thrust for thrust, our bodies colliding with a force that borders on violence.
Slick with sweat, our bodies slide against each other, creating a symphony of sounds that fills the room. The scent of our arousal hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heady aroma of candles burning low.
"You're mine," he growls, his voice a rough whisper against my ear. "Mine to claim."
I moan in response, the sound a guttural cry of need as pleasure courses through my veins. "Yes," I gasp, my voice barely more than a desperate plea.
The intensity of our connection is overwhelming, a tidal wave of desire crashing over us with each passing moment. I lose myself in the sensation, the world narrowing down to the feel of Azriel's skin against mine, the sound of his ragged breaths mingling with my own.
He leans down to capture my lips in a savage kiss, his tongue plundering my mouth with a hunger that borders on feral. I bite back, matching his intensity with a ferocity of my own as we devour each other with a raw, primal need.
Every touch, every kiss, every thrust is a testament to our shared desire, a silent declaration of the love that binds us together. We are lost in each other, consumed by the fire that burns between us, unable to tell where one ends and the other begins.
As the pleasure mounts, I feel myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my entire being consumed by the overwhelming tide of sensation. Azriel senses my impending release and adjusts his rhythm, driving me over the edge with a final, desperate thrust.
I scream his name as ecstasy washes over me in a blinding burst of light, my body convulsing with pleasure as I tumble into the abyss of sensation. "Azriel!" I cry out, my voice a plea for more as I surrender to the depths of bliss.
He growls in response, panting in my ear, “let me put a baby in you, my mate. Let me-” he lets out a grunt as his movements become more erratic, “let me show the world how good i give it to you, to this pretty little pussy.”
I whimper at the words, my sex addled mind going blank for a moment as he suspends my pleasure, “yes, please, Az, put a baby in me,” I moan loudly, gently scratching the delicate membrane of his right wing.
Azriel lets out a roar of pleasure as he lets himself go, shoving in as far as he can and staying there as he fills me with his warm seed. “I love you,” he pants softly in my ear, his entire body laying sticky and limp on top of mine.
“I love you too,” I breathe, my hands moving to rake through his soft curls.
As the waves of pleasure slowly subside, Azriel turns us to hold me close, his touch gentle yet possessive. There's an unspoken understanding between us, a connection that goes deeper, a thread that sparkles in pure gold with contentment and satisfaction. His arms around me feel like home, like a sanctuary where I can be truly myself.
His whispered words of love and reassurance wash over me like a soothing balm, each syllable a tender caress against my skin. He speaks of our bond, of the love that binds us together, and I listen, my heart swelling with gratitude for the man who has become my everything.
I nestle against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek. It's a comforting rhythm, a reminder that I am safe in his embrace, cocooned in the warmth of our shared intimacy.
"Stay," he murmurs softly, his breath warm against my skin. "I know you have to get cleaned up… but, just a little longer."
I smile, my heart swelling with affection for this man who has become so much more than just a lover. "Of course," I reply, my voice a gentle murmur in the darkness.
Azriel presses a tender kiss to my forehead, his touch a gentle caress along the curve of my spine. With each stroke of his fingers, I feel the tension leaving my body, replaced by a sense of calm and contentment.
We lie together in silence, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. There's no need for words; our connection speaks volumes in the quiet of the room. I trace lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips, a comforting reminder of the love that binds us together.
And as sleep finally claims us both, I drift off with the comforting knowledge that in Azriel's arms, I have found a kind of love that transcends mere physical desire, a love that will sustain us through whatever challenges lie ahead.
SUMMARY after falling down a flight of stairs, you are forced to realize that you aren't alone and that it's time to start healing.
CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, nosy Rhys, Amren (she's a warning), and injuries
AUTHORS NOTE I kind of hate this a lot, but here is the third part of the Season's series, Fall. Hope you enjoy! <3
Autumn descends upon the world like a tender-hearted healer, enveloping all in its embrace of warmth and renewal. The air takes on a crisp clarity, carrying with it the subtle scent of earth and fallen leaves, a fragrance that whispers of new beginnings. Trees, once adorned in the lush greens of summer, now don their autumnal attire, each leaf a masterpiece of vibrant hues—amber, crimson, and gold—painting the landscape in a tapestry of healing colors.
As daylight wanes, the sun bathes the world in a soft, golden glow, casting long shadows that dance gracefully upon the earth. The breeze, gentle yet invigorating, rustles through the trees, a comforting melody that speaks of resilience and growth. With each step, fallen leaves crinkle beneath our feet, a soothing reminder of the cycle of life and the beauty found in letting go.
In the fall, nature herself undergoes a profound transformation, shedding the old to make way for the new. Trees release their leaves in a graceful dance of surrender, preparing for a period of rest and rejuvenation. Yet, even in this quietude, there is a vibrant energy that pulses through the air, a reminder that healing is not a passive act, but a journey of growth and renewal.
As I found myself immersing in the healing embrace of autumn, I was invited to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the beauty of transformation. Like the earth itself, I was reminded of my innate capacity to heal, to grow, and to emerge stronger and more vibrant than before. In the gentle caress of the autumn breeze, I found solace, strength, and the promise of new beginnings.
(Early September, House of Wind)
Morning light spilled through the windows of the House of Wind, painting the stairwell in hues of gold and amber. Each step I took down the winding staircase echoed softly, the sound muffled by the quiet of the early hour. Shadows danced along the walls, elongated and wavering, as if unsure of their own existence in the gentle glow of dawn.
As I descended, a flicker of movement caught my eye—a subtle shift in the darkness that should not have been there. My heart skipped a beat as I turned to look, dread coiling in the pit of my stomach. The shadows seemed to solidify, taking shape in the form of a figure I knew all too well. It was Lyris, his smirk cruel and taunting, his blade gleaming with malice in the dim light.
Panic surged through me, my breath catching in my throat. It wasn't real, I told myself, but the terror it invoked was. Before I could react, before I could rationalize, my foot missed the next step. There was no time to regain my balance, no wings to unfurl and catch me. I reached out desperately, fingers grasping for the banister, but it was too late.
The world tilted violently as I fell, the sharp pain of impact shooting up my spine as I collided with the unforgiving stairs. Each jolt sent waves of agony coursing through me, my body bouncing helplessly until I finally came to a crumpled stop at the bottom of the staircase. Dazed and disoriented, I tried to gather my bearings, the pain a sharp, throbbing ache in every limb.
Footsteps echoed through the hall, growing louder with each passing second. Then, Azriel was there, his face a mask of concern as he knelt beside me. "Don't move," he said softly, his hands hovering over me with a hesitant touch. "We need to get you to the healer."
"I'm okay," I lied, attempting to push myself up despite the searing pain that shot through me. The room spun sickeningly, and I winced, sinking back down with a pained gasp.
"No, you're not," Azriel insisted, his voice firm but gentle. He assessed me quickly, his expression grave. "We need to get you off these stairs. Can you stand?"
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, frustration and pain mingling into a bitter concoction. "I don't… I can't…" I faltered, unable to voice the depth of my vulnerability.
"It's okay. I've got you." Azriel's arms enveloped me, lifting me gently from the cold, hard floor. I buried my face against his chest, seeking solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat amidst the chaos of my own.
As we moved, the memory of the fall replayed in my mind—the hallucination of Lyris, the terror of losing my footing. I had lost more than just my wings that day; I had lost a piece of myself. How was I supposed to heal when my own mind betrayed me with such vivid, haunting illusions?
Azriel's presence was a silent promise of protection, his concern a soothing balm to my fractured psyche. I clung to it, to him, as we made our way to the healer's chambers, the shadows of the stairwell receding into the background as we stepped into the light of a new day. I would allow myself to let him seep in my darkness for a moment. I would be selfish for just this moment and then it would be back to struggling alone, to protecting them, him.
Madja's room was filled with the subtle scent of lavender and sage, a calming ambiance that did little to ease the knot of anxiety in my stomach. The healer's hands were warm and gentle as she applied salves to the bruises that marbled my skin, her touch careful around the tender areas where my wings once were.
"You're healing well physically," Madja said softly, her voice soothing. "But healing the mind… that takes time, and often more than just my skills." She offered me a small, understanding smile, though her eyes were stern, hinting at the depth of her concern.
Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Azriel stepped inside. His expression was unreadable, shadows swirling slightly at his feet—a sure sign of his inner turmoil. Madja excused herself with a knowing look, leaving us alone.
I shifted on the cot, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders as I faced him. "Azriel," I began, but my voice cracked, betraying my nervousness.
He moved closer, his movements graceful and deliberate. Stopping at the edge of the cot, he knelt so he was eye level with me, his gaze intense. "I've been patient," he said, his voice low and strained. "I've given you space, but we can't keep avoiding this conversation."
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me. "I don't know if I'm ready," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
Azriel reached out, his hand hesitating in the air before gently brushing a stray hair back from my face. "I know you're hurting. And I know I can't understand everything you're going through. But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to go through this alone."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away furiously. "It's not just the pain, Azriel. It's the fear," I confessed, the words tumbling out. "Every shadow, every noise—it takes me back to that moment. And I feel so powerless."
His expression softened, the shadows receding slightly as if in response to my distress. "I wish I could take that fear away," he murmured. "But since I can't, I'll stand with you against it. Every step of the way, until you feel strong again."
"How do you do it?" I asked, searching his face. "How do you live with your own shadows?"
A sad smile tugged at his lips. "By knowing which shadows are mine to control, and which are simply part of the world. And by having people I love to light the way when it gets too dark."
"What if I'm not strong enough?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me like a heavy shroud. Despite my efforts to steel myself against the pain, I couldn't help but curl into myself, feeling small and vulnerable in the face of my own fears. "What if I never get over this and—" I choked back my tears once more, the fear gnawing at my insides too overwhelming to voice aloud.
Azriel's heart clenched at my words, the rawness of my pain mirroring his own. With aching tenderness, he reached out, his hand hovering over mine, a silent beacon of comfort in the darkness. "You are strong," he said softly, his voice a gentle reassurance. "Stronger than you realize. But even the strongest among us have moments of doubt, moments when the weight of the world feels too heavy to bear."
My eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, sought solace in his unwavering gaze. "And if you never get over this… if the shadows linger longer than you'd like, know that you are not alone. We'll face them together, every step of the way."
The weight of my fear trembled through my shoulders; the depth of my anguish palpable in the air. "But what if I pull you all into it too?" I whispered, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "What if my darkness becomes yours?"
Azriel's heart ached at the thought, but he refused to let me drown in my despair. "Your darkness is not a burden," he said, his voice steady, unwavering. "It's a part of you, just as much as your light. And I would walk through the darkest of nights if it meant I could stand beside you."
He reached for my hand, his touch gentle yet firm, anchoring me to the present moment. "Let me help you carry this weight," he urged, his eyes locking with mine. "Let us carry it together."
For a moment, there was only silence—a heavy, pregnant pause that hung between us, charged with unspoken emotions. And then, with a shaky breath, I nodded, my grip tightening around his hand as if anchoring myself to his steadfast presence.
In that moment, as we sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Madja's room, surrounded by the gentle scent of herbs and healing, Azriel felt a flicker of hope ignite within him. No matter how dark the path ahead, no matter how daunting the shadows that loomed on the horizon, we would face them together. And with love as our guiding light, we would find our way back to the warmth of the sun.
(Mid-October, River House)
The air in the room seemed to hold its breath as I gathered the courage to speak, surrounded by the Inner Circle whose presence felt both comforting and daunting. Cassian's warm gaze, Nesta's softened expression, Rhys and Feyre's silent solidarity, Amren's unreadable yet somehow reassuring presence, and Mor's gentle smile—all of them were a testament to the depth of their care.
With Azriel standing at my side, his silent support a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions, I began to speak. My voice, though laced with uncertainty, carried the weight of my sincerity as I addressed them.
"I want to apologize," I began, each word heavy with meaning as I met their eyes, one by one. "For the distance I've kept, for the walls I've built around myself. I've been… cold, and for that, I'm truly sorry.
A hushed tension hung in the air, anticipation mingling with apprehension as they waited for me to continue. But instead of judgment or reproach, I found only understanding in their expressions—compassion and empathy reflected in their unwavering gazes.
"I'm ready to try," I confessed, the admission a revelation in itself. "To try again.. To heal."
Cassian's hand found mine, his touch grounding and reassuring as he squeezed gently. "We're here for you," he declared, his voice a solemn vow. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it."
Nesta's usually sharp gaze softened, her features etched with genuine concern. "We've missed you," she admitted, her voice carrying a rare vulnerability. "But we understand. And we'll stand by you, no matter what."
Rhys and Feyre exchanged a silent glance, their unity a beacon of strength amidst the uncertainty. "You're not alone," Rhys affirmed, his voice steady and resolute. "We'll face this together, as a family."
Amren nodded curtly, her demeanor as inscrutable as ever, yet there was a glimmer of warmth in her eyes that spoke volumes. "Don't make a habit of apologizing," she quipped dryly, a subtle reassurance in her words.
Mor's smile was gentle, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf me. "We love you," she said simply, her words a promise of unwavering support.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I absorbed their words, the weight of their acceptance washing over me like a tidal wave. In that moment, surrounded by the love and understanding of my chosen family, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for me yet.
With Azriel's hand firmly clasped in mine, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the arduous journey ahead. It wouldn't be easy, and the road to recovery would be fraught with challenges. But with the unwavering support of those who loved me, I knew I could face whatever lay ahead.
Night after night, the nightmares clawed their way into my sleep, tearing through the fragile fabric of my dreams with merciless intensity. Each time, I would wake in a cold sweat, heart pounding in my chest, lungs gasping for air as if I'd been drowning in the darkness of my own mind.
Azriel had been there from the beginning, his quiet presence a steadfast anchor in the storm of my nightmares. At first, he would come at the sound of my screams, offering comfort and reassurance until the tremors subsided and sleep reclaimed me once more. But as the nights stretched on and the nightmares showed no signs of abating, his visits became more frequent, his presence a comforting constant in the ever-shifting landscape of my dreams.
I would wake to find him sitting beside my bed, his gaze watchful and protective as he kept vigil over my troubled sleep. His presence was a balm to my fractured mind, a beacon of light in the suffocating darkness that threatened to consume me.
At first, I protested his presence, insisting that he had better things to do than waste his nights sitting by my bedside. But he brushed off my protests with a quiet determination, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that spoke volumes. He didn't need words to convey the truth—that he would stay for as long as I needed him, no matter the cost.
And so, night after night, I would wake to find him there, his presence a silent reassurance that I was not alone in my suffering. With each passing night, his visits became longer, his presence more palpable until it felt as though he had practically moved into my room.
I would wake to the soft sound of his breathing, the warmth of his presence a comforting weight beside me. His steady heartbeat echoed in the silence of the night, a rhythmic cadence that anchored me to the present moment.
In those quiet hours before dawn, with the weight of his presence beside me, I found solace in the knowledge that I was not alone. No matter how dark the night, no matter how terrifying the nightmares that plagued my sleep, Azriel was there, a silent guardian watching over me until the first light of dawn chased the shadows away. And for that, I was endlessly grateful.
(Late October, River House)
As Azriel sat across from Rhysand, the weight of the conversation about you felt even heavier upon his shoulders. His mind flickered back to the recent events—the trauma you had endured, the pain etched into your every expression, and the way you had leaned on him for support during your darkest moments.
"I've noticed the way you look at her, Az," Rhys's voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. "And I can't help but wonder… Are you two… a thing?"
Azriel's gaze softened with a mix of fondness and concern as he thought of you. "I… I care about her deeply," he confessed quietly, his voice tinged with emotion. "Especially now, after everything she's been through."
Rhys nodded, his eyes reflecting understanding. "I know you've been by her side through it all, Az. And I'm grateful for that. How is she holding up?"
The concern in Rhys's voice mirrored Azriel's own worries. Your recovery had been slow and arduous, marked by moments of progress followed by setbacks. Azriel had been there every step of the way, offering his support and comfort whenever you needed it most.
"She's… she's trying her best," Azriel replied, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But the kidnapping still weighs heavily on her. Some days are better than others."
Rhys reached out a hand, placing it reassuringly on Azriel's shoulder. "You're doing everything you can for her, Az. And she knows that. Just keep being there for her, okay?"
Azriel nodded, gratitude swelling within him for Rhys's words of encouragement. Despite the challenges they faced, he was determined to stand by your side, offering you whatever solace and support he could provide.
As they parted ways, Azriel's thoughts remained with you—the strength you had shown in the face of adversity, the resilience that burned bright within you. And though he knew that your path to recovery would be a long and difficult one, he vowed to walk it with you every step of the way, for you had become more than just someone he cared about—you were his guiding light in the darkness, his reason to hope for a brighter tomorrow.
(Late November, Velaris)
Stepping beyond the familiar walls of the House of Wind felt like a liberation, a triumph over the shadows that had threatened to consume me. As I walked alongside Feyre and Mor, the streets of Velaris buzzed with life, each step forward a testament to the strength I had found within myself.
Beside me, Azriel's concern was evident, his worry etched in the furrow of his brow and the gentle pressure of his hand in mine. But this time, I was determined to show him—and myself—that I was stronger than the nightmares that haunted me.
"Don't worry, Az," I said with a reassuring smile, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm ready for this. Feyre and Mor are with me."
Feyre and Mor nodded in agreement; their expressions filled with confidence. "We've got your back," Feyre said with a reassuring smile. "We won't let anything happen to you."
Their words filled me with a sense of reassurance, a reminder that I wasn't alone in this journey. With their support, I felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
As we walked through the bustling streets of Velaris, I couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration coursing through me. The sun warmed my skin, the wind tousled my hair, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt truly alive.
But amidst the excitement, a part of me couldn't shake the worry that lingered in Azriel's eyes. I knew he cared about me deeply, and the thought of causing him any more pain weighed heavily on my heart.
"Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked quietly, his concern palpable. "We can turn back if you're not feeling well."
I met his gaze with determination, my resolve unwavering. "I'm more than ready, Az," I replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I've spent too long hiding away. It's time for me to start living again."
Cass returns to the House of Wind, his ego bruised, but as long as he has his Bun, he’ll be okay.
Warnings: 18+ sexual content, bunny-hybrid reader, implied pet play (ears, tail etc), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, size difference/size kink
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist | Cassian | Cass & Bun AU
The house was empty, silent, save the soft footsteps that scampered from the small innocuous door leading to the 10,000 steps into the grander stairwell leading to the bedrooms below. Your ear twitched, long and furred, before you slid through the thick oak door and into Cassian’s bedroom.
Inside you surveyed the room, empty, a few books scattered on the low table by the fire, abandoned along with the half drunk glass of red wine, still warmed by the hand that had left fingerprints on the bowl, under the Illyrian chair where black boots, fallen on their side as if kicked off.
So he wasn’t here. Your ears twitched again, the left standing proudly from your hair, listening intently. You reached up to itch your right ear, the lop-sided one that folded halfway down, making it harder to pinpoint your quarry. A door creaked, and suddenly your heart raced, no longer feeling so confident as the hunter, you turned on quiet feet to the once shut door to the bathing room.
Inside, the bath, wide enough for not just Cassian’s shoulders but also his wings, still steamed.
Before you could take another breath you were in his arms, corded muscle wrapped around you, hands tickling your ribs and his nose pressed to the back of your neck, breathing you in.
“There you are, Bun!” His voice rumbled through your back, a shiver running down your spine from the puff of warm air on your sweat cool neck. Being an Ostarina came with many advantages, being able to climb the 10,000 steps on your light, bouncy, feet was one of them. The tall, soft ears that grew from the top of your head should have been another, if only Cassian’s hunting abilities weren’t superior, you also enjoyed your little tail, a tuft of hair in the same soft pinks and whites as your ears, bordered by darker brown fur above it, that protruded from just above your bottom and lifted your skirt up slightly…, and was now wagging against Cass’ chest.
“Cass!” You giggled, squirming in his grasp, feet dangling above the ground. He swung you around until you both fell onto the bed. He smiled at you, happy and content, before pulling you to sit in his lap and letting you feel the hardness growing under his too-small towel.
Humming happily he snuck his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, pushing aside your damp, silk panties to feel his favourite part of you.
“Always so happy to see me, Bun, you certainly know how to sooth my bruised ego.” He retracted his fingers, now sticky with your arousal. It was so easy to get you going and so difficult to sate you once you were aroused. Like all bunnies you loved to fuck, insatiable and relentless, a true match for Cassian’s equally voracious appetites.
“Always, Cass.” You bent down to nuzzle your nose against his, “who hurt your ego?” Concern washed over your face as you ran a cautious hand down his tattooed chest, checking for any physical bruises or new scars. He allowed you to survey him, tying his long damp hair back. Your hands cupped his cheeks, then slid down his neck, no cuts, no blood.
“Oh, my sweet Bunny, nothing I can’t handle.” He gave you a sad smile, his hands dancing up and down your thighs again, “nothing that can’t be fixed by being here with you.”
“And how can I fix you now, my mighty General.” You teased, rubbing your nose against his cheek and inhaling deeply again, he was like a warm fire, the embers already crackling merrily, both comfort and raw power at the same time. His hands held you close, letting you scent him, feeling your heartbeat steady now you were together.
“Just by being yourself.” He cooed, shifting enough to push your damp panties aside and slide a single thick finger through your folds and into your tight heat. Wet and waiting, just for him.
Cassian groaned as you clenched down, grinding into his palm and mewling into his broad chest.
“So needy tonight, Bunny.” He couldn’t help but rut up against you, adding a second finger as you cried out with need.
“Please, Cass, please. I am. I am needy, I need you.” You clawed at his chest, rubbing yourself against him, your soft tail moving so quickly against his legs he swore you were vibrating with want.
“Poor Bun.” He pinched your cheeks, his hand sliding higher until he could scratch the base of your ear, making your leg twitch in response. He always knew exactly where to touch, where to apply pressure, but you wanted more.
“Please, please, Cass, I can’t wait.” You started to bob up and down in his lap, your ears moving as well and he leant back, bracing his weight on one hand, to watch you take your pleasure from him, breasts heaving under your almost translucent shirt. He grew harder, if that were possible, at the thought of your need for him. Your desire, so consuming, that you could take any part of him, even just his fingers, and lose yourself so completely.
“Fuck, Bun, my Bunny, how could I say no to you.” He rolled you both over in a flash, every bit the warrior as his muscles flexed, his wings spanning above you and blocking out the delicate faelight that had been painting the room in washes of gold and silver. Now it was red, filtered through those vast wings. You knew he could hold you down, move you how he wanted, you knew because he had and it was a game you both loved to play. Hunter and prey, chasing down the empty corridors of the House of Wind. But now, that pain behind his eyes, this was no game, this was no cage, no trap, this was a roost, a burrow, and he needed your comfort as much as you needed his protection.
Cassian’s wings dipped, cutting off everything but the two of you, your mingled scents, like the wind in the Illyrian Steppes, rich and overwhelming, and he followed. His lips were chapped but warm, pressed against your own intently, tasting and claiming in equal measure.
“Need you, Bunny.” He growled, hooking one leg over his arm to spread you wide beneath him, the insistent press of his leaking head claiming you too, splitting you open while you moaned into each other’s mouths, swallowing every wanton sound that escaped between you. “Fuck, always so fucking good for me.” His voice was rough with lust, rumbling through the room.
“For you, Cass, all for you.” You wailed, looking down at where he disappeared inside of you, only for the outline of him to reappear, pressing into your lower stomach.
He caught your eye, grinning, and placed his palm over you, applying the slightest pressure until you saw stars, thrashing beneath him. His other hand was firmly planted next to you, but he dropped down onto his elbow to pepper kisses across your cheeks and nose, his fingers teasing the sensitive sides of your long ears. He nuzzled into your neck, his weight holding you down against the mattress, every line of his body melded to yours while his wings shielded you from even the room beyond.
“Cassian, Cass-” you panted, “fuck, Cassian, I love you.” You moaned, squeezing down around his length and he felt your walls flutter against him when you came with a low moan, tipping your head back to reveal the long, delicate column of your throat.
“Love you too Bun, so much, so fucking much.” His thrusts became erratic and you took your opportunity to move your hands from where they’d been tangled in the now messy bun on top of his head to the webbed wings that framed him. A single finger, tracing a blood red line down the delicate patagium of his wing was all it took for him to come undone above you, shaking with pleasure and spurting deep inside of you with such ferocity that his cum leaked out around him and onto the sheets below.
“Cass,” you sighed, sated if only for the time being, and smiled up at him with hazy, loving eyes.
He fell to the bed next to you, tucking his wings back behind him and pulling you into his side, one hand on your head, petting your ears as you lay against his chest, the other idly patting your bottom and stroking your tail, the fur fluffed up from being rubbed against the bedding.
“Do you feel better now, my fiersome General-” your nose pressed into his ribs, fingers on his muscled stomach - “my lord of bloodshed!” You raised a hand dramatically before lowering it to pinch his peaked nipple.
“Ouch-” he batted your hand away playfully, pinning it back on his chest beneath his own. “Careful, Bunny-” he teased.
“You still have some feelings to work out?” You asked, sincerely, and he nodded. Good, you were already restless again, and rubbed back against his hands. “Want me to show you how us bunnies like to work out our frustrations?”
He opened one eye, smirking, “I think I have some idea, but I’m always happy for a demonstration.”
You straddled his lap once more, “I’d better get bouncing then.”
“I’ll tell you something right now, I’d rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.”
warnings: abused eris, autumn court shenanigans, mentioned abuse (verbal and physical), talks of violence, forbidden love, beron being beron, beron being abusive, physical abuse, angst, sexism, the autumn court brothers
2.5k words
Masterlist :)
You were Beron's Achilles heel.
His youngest child and only daughter. The Princess of Autumn. You were spoiled, by your parents and your six older brothers--loved by everyone in your family. You knew they all hated each other, that your father was a bad man, abusive to your brothers and your mother. But for some reason, you were loved by him, doted on by him.
You didn't look a lot like him, or like your brothers, or like your mother. Unlike them, you sported dirty blonde hair, though your powers still resembled theirs-- wielding fire like the rest of your family.
Despite your peculiar hair color, your father loved you inmensely, showing you more affection than he did any of your elder siblings combined. You were lucky, lucky that he didn't do with you what he did to your brothers, that he didn't unleash his wrath on you like he did on Eris or the others.
What Beron did do, though, was shelter you. You lived in the Autumn Palace, and rarely ever saw outside of it. Your father would rather you stay in your rooms, where you were safe from the dangers of the realm. You had guards to accompany everywhere, and if it weren't guards-- it was your older brothers. You loved them, all of your brothers, but your favorite was Eris.
He was the gentlest out of all of them, the one that cared the most for you, the one that understood you. Eris would do anything for you, and you for him. It was thanks to him that you found the love of your life.
Rhysand.
A year ago, Eris had convinced your father to let you attend balls and parties held by the other High Lords, to let you live a life outside your rooms and the gardens. Beron beat him for the suggestion, but nonetheless listened to him. The first ball you attended was in the Dawn Court, a celebration of sorts. Most courtiers from all around Prythian were mesmerized-- and stunned-- to learn of your existence.
Rhysand was one of them. Cauldron, the High Lord of the Night Court was smitten from the moment that he saw you enter alongside your brothers, your head bowed as you walked through the crowd. He had to have you.
And he did just that. It was just pleasantries at first, he was kind to you-- much to Beron's dismay and Eris' chagrin. Everyone knew what the Night Court was made of, and how Rhysand ruled over it. Eris would rather kill the High Lord of Night than let him near you, caring not for court relations but for your well-being. He remembered what happened to Morrigan in the Night Court, tortured by her own family.
He would never let you set foot there.
The second ball you attended was in the Summer Court. Eris had been tasked by Beron to woo some Winter Court aristocrat's daughter, so he was quite busy. Which meant you could slip away without anyone noticing, explore the palace and finally not be babysat by your brother.
You had found a balcony that overlooked the city of Adriata when you heard, "There you are... I've been looking for you," in that deep voice you had been incessantly thinking about ever since your first outing.
You turned to find Rhysand standing there, clad in black leather, his violet eyes shining bright while a feline smirk grazed his perfectly sculpted features. You blinked, your doe eyes shining for him.
He smiled wide, and you instantly knew you were done for. You would be his.
And you were. You and Rhysand began a secret relationship, a secret and dangerous relationship. You let him in, let him into your mind, let him be the one to take your purity. You were Rhysand's and he was yours. Not only that, but you saw each other in secret at different gatherings. And sometimes he winnowed into Autumn territory in the dead of night to see you, not caring for the consequences of his actions. Of what Beron would do when he learned he had defiled you.
"I almost melted his mind when I saw him eyeing you," Rhysand growled, kissing you neck in a feverish manner. You let out a low whine, your fingers running through his onyx silky hair. "I can't wait to claim you," he spoke breathlessly, "to make you my wife."
You moaned wantonly when one of his hands found its way under your skirts while the other worked to unbutton the top of your dress. "Take me to your court," you pleaded, hooking your leg on his lower waist and pulling him closer to you.
"I'll take you, steal you away from this place... make you the Lady of Night..." he groaned, one hand snaking to your neck, holding you steady as he kissed down your neck and then your shoulders. You whined and writhed under his touch, then he said, "be quiet, baby... wouldn't want your daddy to find you like this..."
No, you wouldn't. There was a ball happening, this time in your home, and you had slipped away just so Rhysand could follow you and corner you in a dimly lit hallway. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer into yourself, like you were a sick woman and the only remedy was Rhysand close to you.
"Sister." The voice of Fenix, your second-eldest brother, ran through the hallway. You jumped, pushing Rhys off of your body as if he had the plague. Rhysand turned to the Vanserra male, a smirk on his face, as if he hadn't been caught in a very compromising situation.
Fenix hummed, his eyes narrowed on you, "interesting."
"Fenix..." you warned him, your eyes travelling to his hands that were now curled into tight fists. You were sure any second now he would send fire your lover's way. "You have one second to disappear before I lynch you and send you back to your cauldron forsaken court," your brother said in a dangerously low tone.
Rhys was unbothered. "I think I'll be taking your sister with me then," he said, wrapping one strong arm around your waist. "Over my fucking dead body, Rhysand."
You closed your eyes in defeat when you heard Eris' voice boom through the hallway. A feline smile happened upon Rhys's lips, "that can be arranged."
You turned to Eris, your eyes silently pleading with him, but it was for naught because he was only glaring at the man that had his arm wrapped tightly around you. "Drop my sister, Rhysand. Or there will be hell to pay." Eris warned slowly.
"Eris, I love him!" You shrieked, only for Fenix to let out a low growl. "And I'll lynch him," he threatened, only for Rhys to laugh.
"I would love to see you try. We're leavin-" Before Rhys could finish, a beam of fire was sent his way, though it misted before it could even touch him. You cried in horror when you saw your father standing at the end of the hallway, backed by the remaining of your brothers. Seldom from Lucien, who was not in Autumn anymore. "You dare touch my daughter?!" Beron roared, the walls of the palace shaking from the sheer force of his words.
Rhysand grinned at him, "we can all talk about this like adults."
Wishful thinking. Your brothers wasted no time in their attack on the Night Court's High Lord, sending flames at him-- though they were no match for Rhysand. He swiftly pushed you out of the way and winnowed around the hall, avoiding each attack. "Please stop!" You cried in horror, but to no avail. They wanted Rhysand dead.
"You are BANISHED from this court, for now and forever." Your father's voice thundered through the palace, and instantly the flames died down-- leaving only a very shocked Rhysand. "Beron... we can talk abo-"
"Leave now, or I send Eris to your court with our army. Leave or we are at war," at your father's threat, you turned to Rhysand in horror. You knew he could kill your entire family with a single blink, that he could really take you and form a war between courts-- and win it.
He spoke in your mind. "Give me the word and I will take you away, bunny. I am not scared of your father or his weak threats."
"Go. I will fix this." You responded.
Rhysand turned to Beron, bowed with a wicked grin on his face, and winnowed away. You stared at the space he had just been standing in longing, before a grip yanked you forward. You whimpered as you looked up at your father's rage - filled expression. "How do you dare?" He asked in a tone that he had never once used on you. You trembled, his grip burning into your skin, causing you to wince in pain.
Eris stepped between the two of you, pulling you behind his frame to shield you from your father's wrath. Beron's glare burned through Eris, and you could almost feel it burning your skin. "You will marry someone of my choosing. Until then, you will remain in your rooms." Beron spoke, his tone offering no room for bargaining.
"But Daddy, I love him!" You cried, stepping from behind your older brother to face your father's rage. Beron growled, "what do you know about love? You're a woman! There's no choice for you in this matter!"
You scoffed, he raised you just to cage you. "I love him!" You pressed again, and he simply rolled his eyes at you, "you know nothing of the world."
"I love him, and I'm having his baby!" You shrieked, and horror instantly was etched unto your father's expression. Your brothers all looked as if they had seen a ghost, eyes wide and mouths hung open at your revelation. Eris covered his face with his hands, "I'll kill him..."
"I'm not..." you admitted, "but cauldron, you should see your faces."
Beron was frozen in shock at your boldness. He was not dealing with this. So to Eris growled, "deal with her."
Your father winnowed away along with the rest of your brothers, leaving the eldest and you to sort out this mess. Before you knew it, your brother winnowed you away and into your room. "Sister, please come to your senses..." Eris started.
"No, I am not coming to my senses," you snapped at Eris.
"Rhysand is crazy, the entire Night Court is full of depraved individuals. Remember what happened to Morrigan? How they left her at our border? They'll do the same to you..." Eris trailed, his expression one full of pain and sheer anger.
"I am not Morrigan! He would never hurt me... and Rhysand said he wasn't the one that hurt her. Eris, I know he may seem crazy, but he's the one I want. I love him! And he loves me!" You contested, your voice cracking as tears once more swelled in your eyes. Rhysand was chaos, he was revelry... and he was also the love of your life.
Eris let out a frustrated groan, he could not believe his sweet sister was so hung up on the cruelest High Lord there ever was in the history of Prythian. "Sleep on it, sister. Because Beron will never let you wed him," and with that, your brother left your room, slamming the door on his way out. Slamming the door on you and your future.
-
You were summoned early in the morning to breakfast with your family, you attended with your arguments sharp as knives-- ready to hurl them at your father. As soon as you entered the Dining Hall, your brothers erupted into their arguments, all of them reminding you of all the things Rhysand had done in his life.
Your father looked smug as your five brothers scolded you for wanting the Night Court's leader. Your mother looked mortified, her face pained-- she just wanted you to be happy.
"He melts minds," said Fenix.
"He has those two bat boys, they are evil and kill innocents," said Zire.
"He lets his court torture women, look at Morrigan," said Lukas.
"I heard he keeps a hundred concubines in his palace," said Ember.
"He runs his court without any sort of morals," said Eris.
You thought it was rich coming from your brothers. They were the ones that tortured Lucien's lover, and the ones that ran him out of Autumn. They didn't know you knew that, though-- one of your servants had told you what had happened.
Their hypocrisy and vile words towards Rhysand made you seethe, sending flames flying from your hands and to the walls of the room as you stood up. "I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all your hypocritical bitching and moaning," you screeched.
Your brothers went still, their mouths all clamping shut as they stared at you in shock.
"You're a Vanserra," your father growled. "Whether you like it or not, you do my bidding, and if you think I'll let you wed Rhysand just because you want to, then you are dafter than you appear, child."
You remained silent, digesting your father's words. You had always known your father to be cruel. Knew he beat your brothers, knew he was the one that bid them to kill Jesminda and run Lucien out of the court. But you had never known his cruelty, no. You had always been his weakness, the child he truly did appear to love. Though now you knew that just because he didn't you, it didn't mean that he cared any more for you than he did your brothers.
"I may be a Vanserra," you trembled, "but I would gladly disgrace the name. You've already done it plenty."
Beron never once expected you to go against him like this, no, you were the good one. You were the dutiful daughter, the one he had kept hidden for years on end to protect. Where did you get all this conviction? Your father stood from his seat at the end of the table, Eris doing the same thing— ready to intervene if he were to attack you.
Beron strode towards you quickly, and Eris tried to jump in between the two of you, but with a flick of his hand your father sent Eris flying to the wall. You gasped, meaning to rush to your brother, but your father grabbed you midway.
His grip was deathly, and as you looked up at him— your blood ran cold. And before you could even pull away, his hand struck you across the face.
-
Part Two
Author’s note:
i instantly got this idea when i heard this song like IT FITS PERFECT
Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.
Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute, uncomfortable situations (nothing extreme)
a/n: thanks for all the love on the first part! Hope y'all like this one just as much!
➻❥ Part I
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Part II
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“You look well rested.”
Cashmere winked at you from her seat in front of her vanity. She was brushing out her long hair, getting ready for the evening. You let out a sigh and plopped down at your own vanity in the dressing room.
“I am,” you replied. “Someone bought out all my nights this month but no one’s shown up. It’s…strange, don’t you think?”
Cashmere shrugged, going back to looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Seems to me like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer.”
You began putting on your makeup for the night, not that you’d have any clients. But you were still expected to be in the Courtyard for a bit. “Secret, maybe, but they're definitely not an admirer. If they were, why wouldn’t they come get what they paid for?”
“Some of these Lords just throw their money around to impress us. I wouldn’t think too much about it, Serenity,” Cashmere said. You fought the urge to cringe at the fake name. “Consider it a vacation of sorts.”
“Until Lydia finds out,” you snorted. “Then she’ll probably double book me.”
“Just rub some kohl under your eyes,” Cashmere suggested. “Make it look like you’re still having sleepless nights like the rest of us.”
“Not a bad idea.”
More girls walked in and you fell silent. Telling Cashmere about your current situation was one thing. You trusted her as a friend. But some of the other girls would likely pass on the information to Lydia and that’s the last thing you wanted.
You finished your makeup before shrugging on a new lingerie set with a dark pink silk robe over it. You followed the girls to the Courtyard, ready to perform your nightly duties so you could retire back to your room for another peaceful night alone thanks to your mysterious donor.
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Your vacation was short lived because the next day, Keir showed up and requested sixteen specific girls, your name included, for a party that was being hosted in Hewn City with some elite nobles. Even the High Lord and Lady would be present apparently. Not that you’d be allowed to approach them. Every time you worked these kinds of events, all the girls were given strict instructions on how to dress, what to wear, and what Lords to entertain.
A dress was waiting for you in the dressing room. It was a long black dress that fell to the floor with two slits on the side to show off your legs. It was backless with a few thin straps that criss crossed on your lower back. Sitting beneath it was a pair of silver heels and on your vanity sat a matching silver jewelry set.
You had to forgo your bra for the dress, likely the reason it was chosen. You did a sultry smokey eye and dark red lip for your makeup before you pinned your hair into a pretty updo to show off the back of the dress.
By the time you were finished getting ready, the other girls were too. It wasn’t long before you were being led into the throne room. During parties like this, only the elite and those invited had access to this room in the castle.
The ebony floors were polished, the carved pillars spanning so high you could hardly see where they connected to the ceiling. Various nobles mingled together, sitting on settees, smoking cigars, with glasses of wine and whiskey in their hands.
The High Lord and Lady sat on their thrones on top of the dais at the front of the expansive room, dressed finely in all black with their crowns on their heads. Standing next to the High Lord was the General, the big, brutish Illyrian. Next to the High Lady stood the Shadowsinger, his eyes scanning the room. You’d seen the Shadowsinger plenty of times during the occasional trips your High Lord and Lady made to Hewn City. But that night he had walked through your doors in The Labyrinth, you had been taken aback by how beautiful he was.
Memories of your night with him flashed through your head and you tried to fight off the blush and heat that started coursing through your body. Azriel had been a generous lover. Far more generous than your other clients, that’s for sure. He had actually cared about your pleasure. Not to mention he was the hottest male to walk through your doors.
It was a pity that he had disappeared so quickly and never returned.
“Alright, girls, you know what to do,” Lydia hissed at the group of you. “Do not embarrass me. Anyone who steps out of line will receive a new mark.”
That was the last thing you wanted to do. You looked down at your hand, at the small tattoo on the inside of your ring finger. You only had two more marks left. Two marks and then freedom would be yours.
You started mingling with the various Lords, pretending to eagerly listen to them brag about the most mundane things like their latest hunt or new investments. Servants meandered around, filling wine and whiskey glasses.
When you were younger, you had accepted them like most of the other girls. Having a little alcohol in you always made the night easier. But you were going to steer clear of it—not wanting to jeopardize your progress with Lord Keir and Lydia.
You started making your way towards the front of the room. You had to steer clear of the High Lord and Lady but the wealthier and more important males always sat near the front. And if you caught the attention of someone Keir wanted gone, that would be just an extra bonus to the money you’d be making off them.
You were used to eyes trailing after you everywhere you went, but something else was tugging on your senses, making you feel not like you were being ogled at like always but watched.
Your eyes darted around until they landed on a familiar pair of hazel ones. Azriel hadn’t moved a single step from his post but his eyes were on you. Your steps faltered for a second, taken aback by how intense his stare was.
Was he scared that you would out him? Address him in front of his High Lord? He should know that you couldn’t. The same way he couldn’t mention anything that took place in the Labyrinth.
Your name being called shook you from your thoughts.
Your attention was pulled to a handsome male with long, white hair that matched his equally pale skin. Lord Thanatos’s golden eyes were running up and down your body as he sat sprawled in an armchair like it was the High Lord’s throne. He beckoned you to him with two fingers.
Your heart dropped to your stomach as you had no other choice but to go to him. He was your least favorite client but he had a weird obsession with you. It was rare for him to choose any other girl in The Labyrinth besides you. You gave him a seductive smile, slipping into your role for the night. “How may I help you, my Lord?”
You let out a small gasp as he latched onto your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. The Lords around him all snickered. He brushed your hair to one side before whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be helping me a lot tonight, sweetheart.”
Your insides shriveled up. Lord Thanatos was your least favorite client because of how rough he was with you. But he paid a lot of money so Lydia and the guards often looked the other way, only sending a healer into your room once he left.
“I’m looking forward to it, my Lord,” you purred, resting a hand on his chest. You weren’t, of course. Not even because of the pain he’d inflict on you but more so because Lord Thanatos was Keir’s secondhand man and closest confidant. Which meant those two lines tattooed on your finger would still be there when you woke up tomorrow morning.
Lord Thanatos went back to chatting with the various nobles seated on the couches and settees around him. If it wasn’t for his wandering hands on your body, you would’ve thought he was ignoring you. His hardening cock that was pressing into your backside had you shifting as much as you could to his thigh. You glanced around the room only to find Azriel’s eyes still on you. His fists were clenched, his face frozen with a hint of anger. Anger and something else that seemed suspiciously like longing.
You shifted again in Lord Thanatos’s lap for an entirely different reason now.
Cashmere happened to be walking by when Lord Thanatos grabbed onto her wrist and yanked her down to sit on his other thigh, forcing the two of you to share the small space.
She giggled. “Two of us? Don’t tell me you’re getting greedy, my Lord.”
You exchanged a small look with her. It didn’t happen often but sometimes clients wanted to take two girls at once. You preferred when you were chosen along with Cashmere, because you two were close friends which made it less awkward.
“I think Serenity wants someone to play with,” he smirked, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
“Anything for you, my Lord,” you smiled. “You know how much I love to please you.”
He leaned back in his chair and tossed his arms behind his head like he commanded the room. “Go on then. Kiss.”
You glanced at Cashmere who gave you a dip of the head so you reached forward and hooked some of her ginger hair behind her pointed ear before kissing her lightly. She tasted like cherry wine. You pulled back after a second and for some reason, your eyes caught Azriel’s. He was closer now, leaning on a pillar, wreathed in shadows—watching. He twirled his dagger in his hand with ease.
“Oh come on, Serenity. Don’t play coy,” Thanatos laughed. “I know that mouth can do better than that.”
Cashmere grabbed your face lightly, her eyes shining with a look that urged you on. You kissed her properly this time, caressing her face. This time the two of you gave the Lord what he wanted. But you could feel Azriel’s overwhelming stare still on you.
It wasn’t until your lips were swollen and you were panting that you finally let up. You could feel your lipstick smeared all over and wiped it with your hand.
“Oh, she’s made such a mess of me, my Lord,” you pouted. “Will you excuse me so I can fix myself up?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” he said, pulling Cashmere closer to him. “But don’t keep us waiting.”
“Of course,” you said with a nod, rising from his lap.
When you glanced at the pillar Azriel had been leaning on, he was still staring. It was a bit unnerving. You let out a shaky breath and quickly hurried out of the throne room and into one of the bathing chambers down the corridor. You rested your hands on the edge of the sink, staring down at the basin. You just needed a breather. Just a second to collect yourself.
Not a moment later, you felt a prickling sensation on your skin and the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your head shot up and you left out a gasp as your eyes met a pair of hazel ones in your reflection.
Azriel stood behind you, his shadows swarming him.
You whirled around, backing into the sink.
“What are you doing here!”
Azriel took a step forward, out of the darkness.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he stated in a low voice that had goosebumps rising on your skin.
You crossed your arms, staring up at him entirely confused both by his appearance in the bathroom of all places and his remark. “Shouldn’t be where? In the bathroom?”
“No,” he growled, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be here, at this party.”
“What do you mean? You know what I am. We were hired—” You cut yourself off as you had a realization. “It was you, wasn’t it? The one who booked up all my nights?”
Azriel said nothing, gave no reaction other than his large wings twitching. You swallowed thickly and turned back around, away from his daunting stare, finding it easier to stare at him through the reflection on the mirror. You summoned your small clutch with some magic before pulling out your tube of lipstick.
“Look, Azriel,” you began, starting to apply your lipstick. “You’re not the first male to feel ashamed after sleeping with me. If you’re doing this to absolve yourself from whatever guilt you have, consider it forgiven.”
Azriel stepped closer, his face darkening. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood my actions. I do not feel ashamed because I slept with you, angel. I’m ashamed that I made you sleep with me.”
You shoved your lipstick back in your purse, turning around to face him. “You didn’t make me do anything. I knew what this job entailed when I signed up for it, okay?”
“But is it…is it what you want?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “I can’t say it’s been a dream of mine. But it's a hell of a lot better than being sold off to some male and having all my freedoms taken away.”
Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling it. “Those shouldn’t be your only two choices.”
“Well, take that up with our High Lord, Azriel, I don’t know what to tell you,” you sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my client is waiting—”
You went to brush past Azriel to the door but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“Don’t,” he breathed, “Don’t go. I know you don’t want to be with him. I could see it in your eyes.”
“I don’t have a choice, Azriel,” you snapped, trying to pull your wrist free. “So let me go.”
“Sounds like you’ve already had all your freedoms taken away,” he bit back, his grip unrelenting.
“You know nothing,” you argued. “If this is the one thing I have to sacrifice to keep all my other ones, then so be it. Besides, I’m almost—”
You cut yourself off, cursing in your head at your slip-up. No one could know about the deals the girls at The Labyrinth had with Keir. If word got out because of you…
“Almost what? What were you going to say?”
Azriel’s eyes were pleading with you, like he was hanging off every word that came out of your mouth. You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. “Nothing. Nothing, forget it. Now, please let me go. You’re going to get me in trouble with Lydia.”
You tried to leave again but Azriel pulled you back. “I can’t stand to see you look so miserable with him. Please, let me help you. I paid for you tonight; I’ll go tell Lydia that I’m taking you back to the—”
“She won’t care. She’s just going to give you your money back,” you cut in. “Lord Thanatos pays a lot of money to have me. More than whatever you gave her.”
“Then I’ll pay twice as much as him,” Azriel stressed. “Or whatever I have to in order to make sure he doesn’t end up in your bed tonight.”
“I take my orders from Lydia. What she says goes.”
“Fine, give me five minutes,” Azriel said with heavy resolve. “Just avoid him for now and I’ll sort it out.”
You looked at him closely. “Why do you care?”
“Don’t…don’t ask me that,” Azriel murmured before he disappeared in a whirl of shadows, leaving you stunned and confused.
You left the bathroom finally, making your way back to the throne room. Your mind was screaming at you to go back to Lord Thanatos before you got in major trouble, but something else in you wanted to listen to Azriel. You had no idea why. You grabbed a champagne flute off a tray from a server and made yourself look busy near a pillar that concealed you from Lord Thanatos’s view.
Five minutes passed and you were beginning to lose faith in Azriel, resigning yourself to the night with Thanatos when he stepped out of the shadows behind you. You let out a gasp of fright, spilling your full glass of champagne. Azriel grabbed the empty glass from your hand and set it on a table before taking your hand in his and guiding you away from the pillar.
“I sorted it out,” he whispered under his breath to you. “But Lydia seemed…suspicious of my interest in you.”
“What do you mean?” You hissed back.
“She’s wary of you being a spy for the High Lord,” Azriel answered, quickly.
You held back a laugh at that. “Then I guess we’ll have to make her think you’re interested in me for…other reasons.”
Azriel stopped and pulled you close to him, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t get me wrong, angel. I am interested in you for all those other reasons, too.”
A chill skittered down your spine and you looked up at him with a coy smile. “Good, that’ll make this easier than.”
“Make what easier?”
“The show we’re going to put on for her,” you whispered.
Azriel’s cheeks turned a bit pink and you just knew you were going to have fun with him.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Azriel found an armchair next to some empty couches in clearsight of Lydia and sat down, spreading his legs apart in invitation and patting his thigh. His face was unreadable as you sat in his lap, tossing an arm around his neck and throwing your legs over his thigh, leaving them to dangle. He placed an arm around your waist, his hand lying flat on your stomach, and pulled you closer to him.
Azriel leaned in, whispering, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You won’t,” you replied, honestly.
His eyes searched yours for a second before he nodded. You placed a hand on his chest, running your fingers over his leathers. “Aren’t these a little constricting?”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “I’m used to them.”
You hummed, your eyes darting towards Lydia to see her watching the two of you. “Well, I much prefer you out of them, shadowsinger.”
Your words had their desired effect. Azriel’s chest rumbled with a quiet growl, his hand caressing your waist. You giggled, pressing a few kisses to his jaw. His scent of cedar and night-chilled mist seemed to envelope you. He gripped your dress in his fist, his entire body tense.
“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered, lowly. “Anything.”
“What do you want to know?”
Azriel nudged his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His breath ghosted over your skin, causing goosebumps to spread. “Something real.”
You were never very forthcoming with your clients, always keeping your personal details secret and making up stories and lies to feed their curiosity. But something made you not want to lie to Azriel.
“My name is Y/n,” you started, shifting closer to him so no one else could overhear anything said. His hand that was on your waist slipped to the exposed skin on your back, his fingers lazily trailing up and down. “I was born to a low-ranking noble and his bitch of a wife, my mother. I was going to be sold off like cattle to some Lord who had already gone through three wives—you can guess what happened to them—but my friend, the one you saw me with earlier, helped me escape.”
Azriel’s grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against his hard chest. You melted into the heat of his body, the thin dress you had on did nothing to keep you warm. The hand that was on your back slipped to your thigh, parting your skirt so he could touch your smooth skin. Your heart jumped in your chest.
“Tell me their names,” Azriel growled into your ear. “Tell me their names and consider them gone.”
You laughed, darkly, twisting your arm around his neck to stroke the hairs at his nape. “No need for that. They’ve been…taken care of.”
Azriel’s other hand drifted up to your throat, grasping it lightly and tilting your head back so he could pepper his own kisses along your jaw and neck. Your breath hitched and you found yourself grinding down on him, gasping as you felt his hardening cock. Suddenly, none of this was pretend. Had it even been pretend in the first place? No…no, it hadn’t. You had been burning and burning for him since the night he had stepped into your room.
“I’m sorry—”
You turned to look at him and kissed him firmly before he could finish his sentence. He groaned as your lips met his and you pulled away entirely too soon, lingering only centimeters away.
“I’m not,” you purred.
Whatever resolve Azriel seemed to have, whatever dignity of yours he was trying to preserve, all of it was forgotten in the moment. He lurched forward and kissed you again, his hand on your throat angling your head to his liking—the rings on his fingers were cold against your heated skin. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips, at the taste of him.
His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you gave into the subtle request, parting your lips for him and deepening the kiss. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your thigh slipped dangerously close to the place between your legs that seemed to be begging for him. You’d never been so turned on in your life. The thrill of knowing eyes were on you and the feeling of Azriel consuming you caused your brain to numb all thoughts.
His hand on your throat slipped down your side, his knuckles running along the side of your breast. You arched into his touch with a mewl and he answered with a small huff, his wings twitching. Meanwhile his tongue was still exploring every inch of your mouth, claiming you in a way that had you throbbing in his lap.
Azriel pulled away, leaving you panting for air as he began to trail kisses down your jaw and neck again. His wandering hand landed flat against your stomach, pushing you farther into him until you were flush against his body, your legs falling open to either side of his thigh. Your half-opened eyes darted around the room.
It seems Lydia had lost interest in the two of you but another set of eyes were on you.
“The High Lord’s watching,” you murmured as he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth.
“I don’t care,” Azriel growled, his mouth moving to nibble on the delicate skin of your throat.
“He’s not going to get mad that you're allowing yourself to be seen with Hewn City scum?”
“Fuck him,” he snarled, biting down on your skin and causing you to gasp. He soothed the mark with his tongue before kissing his way up to your mouth again. “Stop talking about another male while you're sitting in my lap.”
“Yes, sir,” you smirked before he kissed you again, his hips thrusting up into your backside. You groaned, your core rubbing against his thigh with his movement and causing a strike of lightning to flash through your body. The need for him was overwhelming. You’d never felt this way towards anyone.
His hand drifted higher on your thigh, until his thumb traced the inner junction between your thigh and hip and felt the wetness that had started to spread there. A small whine came from the back of his throat that had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. You pulled away from his kiss to stare up at him with lust filled eyes, his own full of hunger and craving.
“Azriel?”
“Yes, angel?”
“Get us out of here.”
Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. His shadows engulfed the two of you and transported you to your room in The Labyrinth. You were on your knees before him not even a second later, overcome with the need to taste him, to touch him, to devour him whole. You pulled at the laces on his pants, your fingers working quickly. Azriel’s hand slipped into your hair, fisting your locks in between his fingers.
“Angel, you don’t have to—”
“Azriel,” you cut him off, staring up at him with hazy eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”
Before he could reply, you yanked his pants down causing his large member to spring up, already hard and leaking. You nearly groaned at the sight. He was so big, so big and thick. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the head of his cock and he hissed, his fists tightening in your hair.
You stared up at him as you took his cock in your hand and licked up his entire length. He let out a loud moan, tossing his head back at the pleasure. You smiled at the sight, your other hand sliding down your body between your legs, hoping to relieve some of the throbbing.
But Azriel growled and yanked your head back.
“Don’t you dare touch yourself,” Azriel commanded. “Only I get to touch you there.”
If it had been any other male saying those words, you would’ve laughed in their face. But it coming out of Azriel’s mouth only made your throbbing intensify. You whined, but listened, grasping his cock with both hands and finally taking him in your mouth.
“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, guiding your movement with his hand in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.”
Your thighs rubbed together at his praise and you continued to bob your head back and forth, swirling your tongue under his cock and running it along his veins. His hips began to thrust in time with your movement, his hand guiding you to take more and more of him in your mouth until he was fucking your face.
“You’re taking me so well,” he moaned, thrusting into your mouth. “Good girl.”
You choked, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. Normally you would hate a client treating you like this but with Azriel it felt different. Maybe because his rough taking of you was coupled with small words of praise and encouragement, urging you on.
“Just like that,” he groaned. “Fuck, angel, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock.”
You whimpered, taking more of him until his cock was hitting the back of your throat. Your hands jerked the part of him you couldn’t take because of his unbelievable size. His groans and growls kept you going, kept the fire between your thighs burning. You needed him more than you needed air.
Azriel yanked you away from his cock by your hair and you whined at the loss of contact. He pulled you up off the floor, his eyes nearly black with lust. “Take off your dress,” he ordered.
You maintained eye contact with him as you quickly stripped yourself before him. The air around the two of you was intense, the need for one another so tangible. In this moment, you weren’t Serenity, the prostitute who worked here. But Y/n. The girl underneath the mask.
“Get on the bed,” he demanded. “On your knees.”
You scurried to the bed, doing as he asked. You were entirely exposed to him in this position, your arousal dripping down your leg. You could hear him taking off the rest of his leathers and waiting in anticipation until his hands fell on your hips, rubbing them softly.
“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, one hand trailing up your back and gently moving your hair to one side so he could see your face. His cock rubbed against your folds, gathering your wetness. “Fuck and so ready for me.”
“Azriel, please,” you begged. You could feel yourself gripping around nothing, needing to be filled by him and him only.
“One day, I’m going to worship your entire body,” he grunted. “But I need you, angel. I need you right now.”
“Please,” you begged again. “Take me. I’m yours.”
Azriel slammed into you so quickly, it knocked the breath from your lungs. You moaned at the feel of him, at being stretched so thoroughly. He waited a moment, his breathing labored, allowing you to adjust before he slid back out and roughly thrust back in.
“Say it again,” he growled, taking a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over again.
You whimpered, “I’m yours.”
“Again,” he snarled, his pounding into you causing the whole bed to shake.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intense pleasure. Your whole body was tingling at his touch, at his words. “I’m yours, Azriel. I’m yours.”
One hand stayed on your hip to help keep you in place while the other slithered up your back and into your hair, fisting it again. He pulled your head back, exposing your neck as he drilled into you. Your back arched as you cried out at the feeling. You had already been so turned on, your orgasm was quickly building.
“More,” you groaned. “More, Azriel, please.”
He growled and yanked you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. The new angle felt deeper, his cock brutally hitting you in that sweet spot that had you seeing stars. His hand traveled from your waist to your breasts, squeezing and caressing them. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body arched into his touch.
He released your hair to rub circles on your clit, leaving you both breathless and screaming.
Your body was entirely his in this moment. He controlled every ounce of your pleasure, every cry that came from your lips. You had never reveled in giving yourself up like this before. Not until Azriel came.
“Azriel…I’m gonna….I’m gonna,” you panted, the lewd noise of skin smacking together the only other sound in the room.
“Be a good girl and cum for me angel,” he whispered, huskily, in your ear.
His words pushed you over the edge and your orgasm slammed into you. Your entire body clenched around him as waves and waves of pleasure crested through you. Your vision went white hot with it. Azriel’s name fell from your lips like a Devil’s prayer.
“Fuck,” he hissed, fucking you through your orgasm. Until you finally came down from your high, your body slumping in his hold. He let you fall to the soft bed, your face smashing against the cushions as he held you up by your hips. His rhythm became desperate, feral until he finally came, burying himself in you with a loud growl.
You were both still panting as he slid out of you with a hiss and fell to the bed next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled your body on top of his, letting his wings stretch out. You laid a cheek on his chest, feeling safe as he wrapped both arms around you.
“Don’t leave this time,” you whispered.
Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I won’t.”
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Three days later, you were sitting in Lydia’s office, your nightgown covered in blood, a numb look on your face. Keir was standing before you, leaning against her desk with his arms crossed as he sneered down at you.
The burning on your ring finger was lingering, one of the tally marks gone.
“Lydia tells me that the shadowsinger has taken a special interest in you,” Keir said, stroking his jaw. Your eyes remained distant, staring past him to the wall.
The blood was still warm on your skin and you knew the body lying in your bed hadn’t even stiffened. You knew better than to talk during these meetings, allowing Keir and Lydia to converse with each other while you sat there.
“Show me your hand,” Keir ordered.
You lifted your arm, holding it outstretched to him. He took it, twisting it to see your ring finger.
“She only has one mark left, my Lord,” Lydia added from behind her desk.
“I see that,” Keir said, letting your hand drop. “Your last target is the shadowsinger. Kill him and you will have completed our bargain and will be free to go.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach, your eyes going wide as you finally looked at the male standing above you. “W-what?”
“You heard me, girl,” he snarled. “Kill the shadowsinger and you’re free to go.”
Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go.
Keir’s words played in your head over and over again as you made your way to the bathing chambers to finally wash the blood of your latest target off you.
Kill Azriel and you’d finally be free to leave this place. Finally free to take all the money you’d been saving up and leave this damned court to build a new life for yourself. The dream you’d had all along. Kill Azriel and your dream of being free would finally come true.
Kill Azriel.
Kill Azriel or…don’t and end up stuck here, lost in The Labyrinth forever.
Being the most powerful high lord in history is not easy, and sometimes he needs to burn out the stress in ways too depraved to subjugate to his sweet mate, but you…you’re his perfect little wicked pet.
Trigger Warning - Please be aware the collection is composed of some rough kinks including but not limited to sadism, bdsm, brat tamimg, and breeding. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
MDNI
Pillow Princess Rhysie letting her do all the work
Fingering you in Rita’s
You move too much Princess, Rope!bunny
Bending you over his desk late at night
Sometimes he’s sweet
Sometimes he’s eating you like it’s his religion
But most times he’s fucking you dumb
Helping you ride him
Rhys loves it when you wear the jewellery gets you (anal)
Feyre might not like you but she likes to get involved atleast
“You feel that my sweet? How deep I am..”
Rhysie’s favourite song being the way you fall apart on his fingers
If he’s bored you better believe he’ll take you ok his lap like a toy
Face slapping and dumbification
Oral Fixation
Devlon’s been creating trouble in the camps - it’s going to be a long night
“Show me how much you yearn for me”
You’re his precious little princess
Flashbacks Rhys sends you when you’re in public
Thinking of doing a cass version next? Send requests!
Summary// After meeting with the man from the club, you find yourself accepting an irrefusable deal
Note: n/a
————————————
Warm light spilled out onto the pavement where you were stood, hastily brushing your dress down. For a moment, you wished for the dress still neatly folded on your bed, feeling highly underdressed as you watched couples enter and exit the restaurant.
A box had been left at your door early that morning, an elegant dress neatly folded inside. The note with it had been clear, stating that you should wear it to dinner. The should had been a facade, one that you saw through, knowing that it was more of a demand than a request.
You found yourself frowning as you tossed it onto your bed in favor of an old dress, refusing to be told what to do by some man who had yet to speak to you in anything other than riddles meant to leave your mind lost.
Biting your lip, you tossed aside your nerves, walking into the building and ignoring the blatant stares you received. Your breath shuddered slightly as you searched for the man, something in you knowing that he had arrived early.
Your breath caught in your throat as you made eye contact with him, finding the male tucked away into a dark aclove. You couldn't stop yourself as your eyes tracked down his body, taking in his soft cheeks, slicked hair, and pressed suit. As you moved back to his dark eyes, you found them observing your form. His eyes hardened as a small smile brushed his face, jaw ticking as he took in the absence of his gift.
A shiver worked its way through you, your skin pebbling in its wake as you steeled your spine, carefully weaving between tables until you were stood before his.
His piercing gaze was locked on you, never once faltering as he rose from the table and extended his hand to you in an open invitation. With as much grace as you could muster, you delicately placed your hand in his, heart hammering in your chest as he slowly brought it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss atop your smooth hand. Fireworks erupted in the absence of his soft lips as your stomach flipped.
Gingerly, the male lowered your hand before circling the table and pulling the chair across from his out, gesturing for you to take a seat.
You ducked your head, giving him a soft smile as you lowered yourself onto the plush cushion, lips parting as he pushed in your chair with ease. Something about the way in which he commanded himself had your cheeks becoming rosey.
The movements he made around you were a fresh taste on your tongue, one of respect and mild possessiveness. You had no idea what he wanted from tonight, but you had a feeling that you were going to have a hard time turning him down.
You found yourself staring at him, waiting for him to speak.
Smirking, the male leaned back into his chair, "I suppose you're wondering why I've invited you here, y/n." You were unsure if it was a question or a statement as you nodded your head, "Well, I am sure this will be a long conversation, so why don't you go ahead and order something. Anything you want."
Your eyes widened as you looked down at the menu, finding the pricing to be utterly outrageous, "I... I'm not too hungry."
He shook his head as you looked back to him, "Nonsense. Pick, y/n." His eyes tightened slightly, "My treat."
Your lower belly seemed to buzz at his command as you blinked, needing to find something to distract your thoughts with. Swallowing, you found yourself analyzing the paper beneath your fingertips, wondering just what kind of help you were about to be getting considering the money the male seemed to be willing to spend on something as insignificant as food.
The waiter came by, collecting your orders and swiftly moving on, seemingly unwilling to stay in your corner for longer than necessary. Before long, two steaming trays of food were presented to you, the bright colors and otherworldly smells sending your stomach rumbling. In your rush throughout the day, you had forgotten to feed yourself.
With the intense gaze of the male across from you, you had a feeling he somehow knew this as he waited until you had begun eating to lift his own fork.
The two of you sat in silence as you effortlessly cleaned your plate, stopping only to find him watching you with a smirk as he dropped his utensils onto his plate, the dish only half cleared in comparison to the stark white that was visable on your own.
Sipping his wine, the still unnamed male leaned back into his seat, swirling the liquid in the glass before setting onto the table. Crossing his arms over his chest, muscles pulling taught against his black dress shirt, he finally spoke.
"So, y/n, I have heard about your... situation. Financially, that is, and I think I may be able to provide some assistance if you're willing."
The clear, smooth sound of his voice and his well articulated words fell into the folder of things currently forming in your brain as you attempted to uncover who he was.
You cleared your throat, sitting back in your own seat as you watched him closely, "And how do you figure that?"
His lip ticked up to the side as his eyes zeroed in on you, "Well, y/n, I tend to be a very busy male. I have... events of sorts to attend and need a strong female on my arm. I have a feeling that you, darling, would make fine company."
You cocked a brow as you turned his words over in your mind, finding what he was saying to be much too good to be true. You had a feeling there was more that he wasn't telling you, the thought sending your stomach doing strange things.
"So, let me get this straight: you parade me around, and I get paid?" His pause told you what you needed to know, "That's not all, is it?"
His low chuckle had your thighs tightening together, the sound liquid pleasure to seemingly more than just your ears, "Not quite, my dear."
He brushed the invisible dust from the sleeve of his suit before resuming, answering your question with ease, "Well, as you can imagine, with all that parading, it becomes hard to find time for certian... activities, if you will."
Your heart was pounding in your chest, eyes widdening as you stared at him, mind trying desperately to grasp what he was saying. Logically, you knew the answer should be no, but something in you had you pausing, rolling the idea around in your mind.
Gracefully, the male leaned closer, arms crossing atop the table as his violet eyes seemed to see into your mind, "Now, of course, this entirely your choice, y/n. I won't force you into anything you aren't willing to do for me." Your silence prompted him to continue explaining, "I figure it's easier to keep all of my relations to one person, and you, darling, are perfect." The gears turning in your head must've been audible as he answered your question before you could ask it, "And yes, I would've offered this to you regardless of your particular situation as I find something about you to be particularly alluring."
The internal panic was making it hard for you to think, especially with his gaze pinned on you. You needed space, stomach groaning as saliva filled your mouth.
Tossing the cloth napkin atop your lap onto the table, you released a muffled, "Excuse me," before bolting to the bathrooms as gracefully as you could muster.
Shoving through the doorway, you elbowed your way through the women crowding each other, deep in a conversation you didn't have time to hear before you were locking yourself in the nearest available stall.
Just in time, you leaned over the bowl, emptying the contents of your stomach, a rather unpleasant noise leaving your body as you continued to heave until there was nothing left. Gasping for air, you pulled yourself onto the seat, flushing the toilet as you wipped the sweat from your brow.
Your stomach wasn't accustomed to the rich food you had just stuffed yourself with, not knowing how to handle it and instead choosing to reject it entirely.
You had a feeling that was going to have to change if you were to take the mystery man's deal.
The deal.
It seemed too good to be true, even with the physical needs tacked onto the end. It wasn't worth trying to hide the fact that you found the male to be utterly breathtaking, everything about him luring you in until you became lost in his gaze.
Not to mention his body.
You'd caught glimpses of dark swirls benteath his shirt collar, the ink visible in certain light when he moved his coat as it seemed to trail down his whole body, nearly peaking out of his suit. Beyond that, the male had a physic that left you speachless, mind running rampant with thoughts of him panting above you.
Your cheeks reddened at the wildly inappropriate thoughts for a man who had yet to even tell you his name.
You needed to calm yourself before returning to the table with an answer, an answer you had a feeling you already knew.
The whispers in the bathroom were growing, their sound unable to go ignored any longer as you began listening to the females on the other side of the door.
"He was with someone."
"I wonder what they were talking about. They seemed to be pretty deep into their conversation."
"Do you think they're mates?"
"Better not be. Did you see her?"
"Who wears something like that here? He's probably paying her for her service."
A frown pulled at your lips as you looked down at yourself, having a feeling you knew who they were talking about.
"I doubt the High Lord is paying for that trash."
A pit formed in your stomach as your jaw dropped. You were torn between opening the door and showing them just how trashy you could be and screaming.
High Lord.
It made sense now: the way others had reacted to him, his demenor, the money, the fancy restaurant, the dress, all of it.
In hindsight, you knew you should be mindly worried about any deal made with Rhysand, but you couldn't help the excitement that still resided within you. The power that came with even being associated with him was something you had never had before, something that could help you get back onto your feet as you worked to become independent once again.
You would take it.
You would accept his offer, take the perks that came with it, and hopefully have enough to pull out in a few months - ready for a redo on your arrival to the Night Court.
The voices had long since grown quiet as you rose, exiting the bathroom and making your way back to the table, steeling your spine the whole way and ingoring the looks thrown your way.
Rhysand was still sitting, watching you closely as you returned to his side.
"Well, darling, what will it be?"
You nodded, looking down at him, your eyes tracking the way his mouth ticked up as if he knew your answer, knowing that you had finally figured out who he was.
"Stay out of my head, and you have a deal."
A light laugh escaped past his lips, the sound turning heads as your heart fluttered in your chest. Rhysand rose, holding his hand out to you, a hand that you took as you looked up at him.
Darkness enveloped you, stars surrounding your body for a few moments before the blackness slowly disapated.
The room was transformed, an office now surrounding you.
He's moving before you are, rounding the large oak desk and rotating a sheet of paper to face you before holding a pen out to you.
The confusion was visible on your face, prompting Rhysand to explain, "It's a contract, y/n, one that will temporarily bind us until one side releases the other. Read it through, and only sign it if you are absolutely sure."
You released a breath as you picked up the parchment, taking a seat on the other side of the room as you read, feeling his eyes on you the whole time.
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**Employment Agreement Contract**
*This contract is between the employer, Rhysand, and the prospective Employee, y/n. Any discussions of what this contract entails outside of the people listed below are strictly prohibited and will result in an immediate cease of employment and funds. This contract is for the benefit of both parties and includes starting salary, expectations (not excluding sexual acts and/or other explicit materials), dress code, and any other information that the employee will need to perform.*
*Below the employee will find expectations of what their job will entail*.
It is agreed to as follows:
This relationship is a short term contract.
1.1The main purpose of this relationship is for both parties to satisfy their intimate needs, and for (sugar daddy) to provide financial support to (sugar baby). Emotions, such as love, jealousy, infatuation, and similar feelings, are to be excluded.
1.2 The relationship is considered closed and exclusive. Both parties are required to provide notice before engaging in sexual activity or embarking on another emotional relationship.
Social Interactions
2.1 (sugar baby's) pay will not be based on frequency of meetings
2.2 (sugar baby) should expect the following in public (touching, hugging, kissing, ect)
2.3 (sugar baby) is expected to be a stand in during family events such as weddings, dinner parties, or other couple based gatherings
2.4 Sleeping over is subject to both parties consent.
2.5 No gifts for anniversaries, birthdays, or holidays are to be expected. However, (sugar baby) will receive gifts from (sugar daddy) from time to time
2.6 Both parties shall keep the relationship entirely secret and shall not disclose it to any third party unless given consent of the other party.
Financial Support
3.1 (sugar daddy) will provide any money needed for the following: clothing, rent, food, added expenses/ desired expenses
*These are a list of events the employee must attend with the employer, Rhysand. These are non-negotiable.*
Balls, parties, and meetings regarding any and all other Courts including the ones claimed by the employer. (sugar baby) is subject to attire chosen by (sugar daddy)
*Below are the hard limits of the employer, Rhysand. These are also non-negotiable; if the employee has any, they must write them in to be reviewed by the employer.*
Intimate Acts
4.1 Sex is not a requirement of (sugar baby), however, if both parties are consenting, sex may happen.
4.2 Both Parties agree to the following acts only (vaginal sex, male receiving oral, female receiving oral, caressing)
4.3 Other acts and activities must be discussed. If both parties consent to a new act being allowed, new acts may happen.
4.5 Contraceptive tea is to be used at all times.
*If the contract is voided by the employer or employee, all compensation and benefits will be ceased effective immediately.*
Terms of termination
5.1 If at anytime this contact is breached, (sugar daddy/sugar baby) reserve the right to leave the contract immediately.
5.2 If (sugar daddy) is the offending party, they are to pay (sugar baby) the amount they are owed for any upcoming payments
5.3 If (sugar baby) is the offending party, (sugar daddy) reserves the right to pull all support immediately.
Mutual Release
6.1 Both parties reserve the right to end this contract at any time.
**If everything above satisfies both employer and employee, please sign below under the designated line to accept the contract and all of its conditions. This contract may not be edited or added to without the explicit permission of BOTH particpating parties.**
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You swallowed around the lump in your throat as you rose, making your way back to Rhysand and setting the parchment back onto the desk.
His hand lifted, re-offering the pen to you, waiting for you to take it.
"And this can end at any time? No consequences?"
He shook his head, "None at all. It ends on our terms when we so choose."
Nodding, you took the pen, putting the ink to the paper before signing your name, passing both items back to him, and watching as he did the same.
His eyes locked with yours as it happened, the tingling sensation of the tattoo forming around your thigh. The silence after was deafening as you waited for him to say something, akwardly swaying back and forth, entirely unsure of what to do.
He smiled at you, body seeming to relax slightly as he spoke, "There is a party next week at the Day Court Palace, you will attend as my date."
Your body shuddered at the command, something about it sending your stomach knotting as you nodded. You wanted so badly to tell your friends, but you had a feeling doing such would be frowned upon, and as such, you would have to lie to them when they inevitably found out.
Making his way to your side, he grasped your hand, finishing his thought as darkness once again surrounded you, "I'll send your clothes to you later."
This time, you stood outside your apartment, facing him as he handed you a small sack, the coins inside jingling as he passed them to you. It was heavy enough to tell you your rent would be more than covered, the extra in there more than enough to cover your groceries and needed items.
He smirked, darkness beginning to wrap around him, "I suggest you wear them this time as I'm sure you'll find listening to me is much more rewarding than the alternative."
And with that, you were left outside your home, awe struck at the innuendo laying within his statement as your mind worked to catch up with you.
