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Last updated 9/12/24
ACOTAR:
Arcane - Eris Vanserra x Unnamed OC COMPLETE
Summary: Eris’s best kept secret is infiltrated.
Warnings: Angst, Violence
First Impressions - Azriel x Vanserra Reader
Summary: Your first excursion away from the Autumn Court to sit in on the High Lord’s meeting doesn’t go without a hitch.
Summary: Eris grieves you for 500 years. When the cauldron is left unguarded after the second war with Hybern, he makes the decision to bring you back.
mike realized his parents didn't love each other when he was very young, and he rationalized this as all couples don't love each other. that's until he sees the way steve treats you.
c.w. none, a little angsty in the beginning but not really sad, mostly fluff, canon divergent bc i'm pretending the byers never moved to california and max is still hanging out with the party
a/n: wrote this instead of studying for finals, do not bring ship wars into the reblogs. this is me psychoanalyzing a sad teenage boy and writing self-indulgent domestic fluff
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Mike Wheeler's parents do not love each other. Maybe they have some semblance of love between them, but they are not engaged in the act of love. He isn't quite sure at what age, or even exactly when, he realized this. He can't point to one exact day of his life but rather a blur of the hundreds of evenings he's spent the same way.
Sitting at the dinner table with his parents and two sisters while his mother puts out emotional fires and his father picks at his chicken then tells his mom it's over salted. Nancy has a teeth-cleaning on Saturday so she needs to move her date with Jonathan. Also how is her chemistry grade? Mrs. Sinclair recommended a great tutor. Holly's daycare closes early tomorrow so someone needs to pick her up. Does one of Mike's friends want to earn some cash babysitting? Oh and is Mike still going out with his friends after school tomorrow?
Somewhere in the middle of his mother's rambles his father will stand up muttering a "thank you," not to be polite but because it's expected, and walks over to the couch to watch TV without putting his dish in the sink. He'll watch whatever sports game is on and crack a beer while his mother cleans the kitchen.
There is no animosity or arguing between Ted and Karen, only tolerance and mutual existence.
Eventually, the idea of love becomes near repulsive to him. The idea of his parents engaging in any sort of affection makes him nauseous. It's not the childish disgust Lucas has seeing his father kiss his mother but a deep-seated discomfort. A part of him (smaller or bigger than he'd like, he's not quite sure) believes love doesn't exist. It's simply a pleasant lie society feeds one another, because the idea of being alone is terrifying.
That's until he finds himself half-asleep on Steve Harrington's living room floor.
He's been having a lot of sleepovers with his friends since the Starcourt Mall incident. None of them want to be the person who says it but they're all terrified of being alone. He's woken up quite a few times in a cold sweat with gory images in his mind, and he doubts he's the only one. Steve's parents are hardly ever in town so his house becomes the designated place for sleepovers.
The credits are rolling for whatever movie they watched, Mike can't remember because he fell asleep half-way through. His memory is hazy of what time they started but if he had to guess it's probably close to one in the morning.
Dustin is fast asleep next to him on the floor and Will's knocked out on the couch above them. They had been designing their characters for a new DND campaign, Mike's pretty sure there's pen on his cheek from falling asleep while writing the character details.
One of the other side of the couch Max is squished between El and Lucas, and he sincerely doubts she'll mind come morning. She'll probably be grateful considering she's been having some of the worst nightmares.
His eyes make his way over to the loveseat where you had been sitting with Steve. What once started as a respectable distance to avoid incurring any teasing has disappeared. You're leaning on Steve, curled into his side and he has an arm wrapped around you, rubbing your shoulders. You're trying to focus on the credits, dangerously close to dozing off while Steve stares down at you with something in his eyes Mike can't quite understand.
What he does understand is that his parents have never held each other like that.
"You sleepin' over there baby?" Steve's voice is a soft murmur, smiling as he looks down at you.
"Mmmm…" you let out a sleepy hum, barely acknowledging his words before burrowing deeper into his side.
Steve's smile widens in response and all of a sudden Mike's stomach twists. It's not disgust or repulsion but… embarrassment. He's intruding on something special, he should just close his eyes and go back to sleep. That's what he should do, but he can't bring himself to.
"Mmm…. need to put… the kids,” you mumble just barely comprehensible in your sleepy stupor.
“What about the kids sweetheart?” Steve whispers brushing hair out of your face.
“Put em to bed….” you’re practically in Steve’s lap despite the fact the loveseat was made for two. “Mike and Dustin are on the floor… and clean up…..”
“I’ll do it,” Steve murmurs gently and kisses your forehead, “but first I'm putting you to bed.”
“No…..” your brow furrows in your half conscious state.
“Yes,” Steve smooths out the crease with his thumb and kisses your cheek. Then in one smooth movement he’s standing up and hoisting you into his arms, all while making sure the blanket is still tucked around you. You let out a quiet giggle when he picks you up and he notices.
"Having fun over there?" he teases quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. It's almost a knee-jerk reaction, he can't keep his lips off you.
"I feel special," you whisper as if you're sharing a secret and Steve's face softens even more. Mike didn't know it was possible for someone to look at another person like that.
"You are special," Steve whispers in that same secretive tone and kisses your forehead. "C'mon pretty, let's get you to bed."
Your words fade into quiet indecipherable whispers and giggles as Steve carries you to and up the staircase and Mike finds himself staring at the empty loveseat. A million thoughts swirling in his head and none at the same time. He's about to sit up when he hears Steve coming down the staircase and immediately closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep.
He doesn't know why, he could just pretend he woke up now. He doesn't have to give Steve any indication that he witnessed their intimate moment, but for some reason a part of him believe that waking up now would ruin something. Something he can't quite put words to.
The older teen shuffles around a little, turning off the TV, before coming over to where Mike and Dustin are laying on the floor. Then before Mike knows it Steve is lifting him up and placing him on the couch. He feels like a little kid being carried to bed after falling asleep on the car ride home. Though that only happened once or twice at his mother's insistence, usually his father woke him up to walk inside.
He hears some more shuffling and then the couch dips presumably with Dustin's weight. He hears the sounds of Steve cleaning up trash and crafts, carefully organizing their DND papers as to not be scolded later. Just when he thinks Steve is about to head upstairs a blanket is gently tucked around his shoulders and a damp cloth is pressed to his cheek to wipe the pen marks off.
"Wheeler?" Steve whispers gently, and his body tenses but his eyes don't open.
Noticing the tension in his body, Mike hears Steve let out a huff indicating he's smiling. He tucks the blanket a little tighter and ruffles Mike's hair.
"Go to bed kid."
Steve tucks a blanket around Dustin before flicking off all the lights and setting the heater to a comfortable temperature. Then he quietly creeps upstairs and Mike can hear the soft murmurs of you two speaking. He doesn't need to be in the room to have an idea of what's being said.
summary: our reader has been sidelined from investigating the gate beneath the lake. but when dustin takes matters into his own hands, we will find out if the henderson siblings will sink or swim.
warnings: drowning, swearing, general panic and chaos, hurt/comfort, fluff if you squint, themes of angst: violence, injuries, terror
author’s note: posting your first fic shouldn’t be this jarring, but here we are. I was listening to the song at the bottom of this post a lot recently, and I think it’s very Steve coded. I’ve been sitting on this one for a while, but was inspired by @scarletmika’s work lately—you should check her stuff out! Anywho, please be gentle with me <3
One thing people ought to know about the Henderson siblings? You are both equally brilliant. Stupidly brave. So when you get slapped with babysitting duty on the shoreline, you are pissed.
Pissed that you somehow got voted to watch four of the kids all on your own. Pissed that Nancy was going but somehow not yourself. Pissed that Steve would be separated from you in the midst of this Vecna chaos. So you’ve found yourself still standing on the shoreline of Lover’s Lake, water lapping at your boots as the boat drifts further and further away. Dustin watched from a few paces behind you, catching the white knuckled grip you've got on your axe. After the Dart incident, you don’t go far without it. You even started to stick it in Steve’s car for emergencies—case in point.
“Y/N, maybe we should go back to the car.” Dustin says softly, softer than he usually is, even with you.
You stand watch silently, not ignoring him exactly, more lost in your own thoughts. The ghost of Steve’s oven warm hand still lingers on your cheek from where he gripped it minutes prior. You were never shy about your relationship, but you didn’t advertise either. So you were more than caught off guard when he pulled you in for a searing kiss, full of panic and more emotion than you could cope with.
“You come back. You hear me?” You whispered in his ear, arms tightening around his solid middle.
“You can’t get rid of me that easy.” And damn it, he smirked. Like this is all a game. Like he isn’t scared out of his mind that this is the last chance he has to memorize your face.
A peck on the corner of his mouth, another on your forehead and then he was pushing off the shore, hopping into the boat with the others. Robin was the only one with the good sense to look guilty about it all. Nancy wouldn’t even look at you. Had hardly looked at you since the day she realized that you were more than a fleeting moment in Steve’s long roster of moments.
“One second.” You mumble back to your brother. “They are just about there.”
The boat was bobbing in the middle of the lake, which in truth was quite small. You have spent many a summer out there, practically swapping your lungs for a pair of gills. You never went for the swim team—honestly you had no interest. Your science projects were too important to pull away from. No, the swimming was to calm you down.
You see the group of them all peer down towards the depths of the lake, looking for the apparent gate that has opened up there. Then you see Steve stand abruptly, yanking off his shirt before running a hand through his hair.
“Oh God, is he going down there?” Dustin braces his hands on top of his hat clad head.
You should be out there. You would be faster, more nimble.
Cold, sharp panic grips your heart as Steve jumps in. You know he is athletic and perfectly capable, but you can’t help it as you start counting the seconds his head has been below the surface.
30…50…60 seconds passes and you don’t move you eyes off of the spot were the ripples disappeared. That is until you hear the sound of the cops yelling. Whipping around, you don’t have the chance to yell at the kids before they scatter in all directions.
“Damn it! Dust we have to go-” the rest of your words die on your tongue.
You hear two things almost simultaneously before even turning around: splashing, close by and frantic…followed by a chorus of Steve’s shouted from halfway across the water.
You whip back around so hard you feel pinpricks in your neck. Squinting at the boat, Nancy is gone…Robin is about to jump and Eddie is freaking out. And then straight in front of you worst of all, your little brother’s head pops out from the water, paddling toward whatever is happening. To Steve.
“Dustin!” You yell. He can swim—you made sure of that—but it’s dark and there is something out there.
“Gotta get him!” Dustin shouts back at you, not even pausing his efforts.
Cursing wildly, you look back behind you at the flashlights of the police and shed your jacket. At least the others will be with adults…with guns. Carefully, you lodge your axe squarely in the middle of your back, using the belt you and Steve had jerry-rigged into a type of holster. It will weigh you down, but you might need it.
And then you are in the water, quick sharp freestyle strokes have you cutting through the middle of the lake at a hurried pace. Barely coming up for air, you make it to the boat in record time. Slamming a hand onto the metal edge, you pause and pull up for air, looking wildly around. No Eddie, no Dustin.
“Shit!” You mutter before taking in a huge gulp of air.
Diving down, you push against the water, shooting lower and lower into the abyss. Even with the blur, you can make out the glowing red thing splitting the otherwise dark sediment of the lake. There really is a gate and you are about to hurl yourself through it. Kicking harder, you hit the pulsing wall of the Upside Down and push.
Suddenly you are thrown up towards the surface, and you know from the chill in your bones that you made it through. You glance around and find the surface, slightly shimmering with gray, unnatural light as you haul yourself up. Your head breaks water and you immediately regret the gasp of air you breathe in, lungs burning with the same familiar pain that happened in the tunnels all those years ago. Except back then, you had the kids in tow, Steve protecting you from the back of the pack. Now you jerk around wildly in the water looking for your brother or anyone.
Red lighting streaks the sky as you swim to shore, and you don’t fail to notice what looks like bats hovering in the sky to the west of you. Throwing your body out of the water, you half crawl, half drag yourself up the rocky slope. Every few inches you spit, praying that whatever was in the water here isn’t deadly like everything else seems to be.
Bracing yourself on your forearms you scan the woods in front of you looking for anything and anyone. But you are alone. Glancing back at the cluster of bats to your left, you strain to hear anything afraid to let out a noise and have them come at you.
Standing up on shaky legs you grab the handle of your axe that miraculously made it through the gate with you and grip it with both hands. You consider entering the woods from here, assuming that the others would do the same, but you look to your right at the stretch of shoreline just to be sure despite the silence.
And that is when you see him. Body curled into itself slightly, arms splayed out awkwardly on the rocky ground. Somehow, his hat has made it, glued to his hair but you would have recognized your brother anywhere, in any dimension. And he isn’t moving.
You don’t remember dropping the axe. One minute you are yards away and the next you are slamming your knees into the jagged rocks, not even registering pain. Gripping his shoulders wildly, you know you are saying words but the cadence and order of them is haphazard at best.
“Dustin? Dust wake up. Wake up right fucking now.” Bile is rising in the back of your throat.
Still Dustin doesn’t move, eyes closed like he is sleeping. If you weren’t in hell, you’d think he looked serene like this.
“Dust!” You are yelling now. All concern about Demogorgons and Vecna are gone. “Dustin please! What is wrong with you? You’re scaring me!”
In a daze you are running your hands wildly across his body. Looking for wounds or signs of life but finding neither. He isn’t breathing, you realize. Terror grips you as you fumble closer to him, and smack his cheek harder than you would ever consider in a normal day—normal life.
Nothing. No cry of alarm. No cursing sailors mouth that you share. You slam your head against his chest looking for a heartbeat, his heartbeat. The one you’ve listened to since the moment your parents brought him home from the hospital. So tiny and fragile.
There is no thump, no familiar echo like you hear all the times you’ve shared a bed in terror. Fear of the dark, fear of monsters—first imagined and then all too real.
You make a keening sound somewhere between a wail and a sob as you grip onto his wet shirt. You try to remember what you know about CPR, but it is like your body is freezing up with Dustin’s as you weakly pound on his chest, mumbling nonsense.
You have never not known what to do. Not when the Demogorgon first showed up. Not when you smashed a chair across Billy’s back as he beat the shit out of Steve. Not even when Starcourt was crawling with Russians. No, you were in control in some form or another. But now? Now you feel like you are trying to hold tight to sand that is inevitably slipping through your fingers. You need help and you need it now. Pounding harder onto Dustin’s chest, you don’t even register that you are sobbing even as tears splash onto your hands. Finding somewhat of a rhythm, you try your best to keep up the compressions, panic bubbling inside you.
Suddenly, like a wire pulled too tight, your mind snaps out of its haze and you do the only thing you can think of. You scream. At the top of your lungs, bats be damned. You scream louder than you even knew you could. You aren’t even screaming for help. No you scream for the only thing—only person—that has ever been able to fix things left broken in your life. You scream for Steve.
—
The four older party members had their hands full—overflowing actually. Having narrowly escaped the overgrown bat-like creatures on the beach, they were speed walking through the forest when Steve heard it.
Half freezing and bleeding from places he hadn’t even noticed, Steve stops short causing Robin to slam straight into his back, cursing. Nancy whips around to look at him, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“Did you guys hear that?” Eddie says, volume dialed down from the shock of it all.
“Shh!” Steve says holding up a hand to silence them all. Of course he heard it, but he feels like he is going half insane from blood loss at this point. It wouldn’t be the first time he has hallucinated you. He had a whole conversation with you post Russian torture last year and as it turns out, you were busy being chased around by a flesh monster at the hospital.
Nobody moves, ears searching for the horrific noise again. And then splitting through the air like an arc of lighting, there it was. Someone was screaming his name. You. And that is all it takes for him to go into overdrive. Careening through the woods, he jumps over rocks and fallen trees towards your voice.
“Steve, it could be a trap!” Nancy yells, even as the rest of them try to keep pace with him.
He doesn’t even bother to answer, won’t waste the breath that is already wheezing through his lungs, dust choking him. He doesn’t need to see to know that this is real. That you are here despite his earlier effort to make sure that you didn’t come back to this place. That something is wrong.
Steve has heard you scream before. More than he would like. Your screaming is what caused him to run back into the Byers’ house that fateful night he got dragged into this shit. Heard it when Billy tried to (at the very least) maim Lucas. He even heard you scream his name yesterday afternoon, you hands gripping Max as you tried to keep her from floating off the grass of the cemetery. But never like this—never this loud. Your voice is the closest thing to a banshee that any of them will ever hear. And you sound hysterical, worse than when you broke down mid cleanup after Starcourt. You had been sobbing then, smacking the only spot on his chest that wasn’t covered in black and blue repeatedly until you exhausted yourself from the mix of anger that he would get into that damn elevator and relief that he made it out alive.
Life flashing behind his eyes, he sprints through the woods, smacking branches out of his way. Faintly, he feels Eddie’s presence close on his heels. All he can think of is you, you, you. Are you hurt? Is Vecna really there after all? But he doesn’t have to question the reason any longer as he bursts through the last of the forest and out onto the beach, further down from where they just fought off the vines that dragged him through.
And there you are, on your knees, hair wild and clothes soaking wet. Your axe is cast to the side a little ways down the shore and you look wildly at him as your latest scream dies in your throat.
Then it registers that you are pumping your arms repeatedly, winded beyond reason. And then he sees it. Dustin. Unmoving aside from the give and pull of your hands at his chest.
In a split second he is there, hands replacing yours without a word spoken. He does deep, solid compressions, ignoring the feeling of crackling cartilage.
“Munson,” he pants out. “When I tell you, I need you to breath into his mouth okay.” Eddie nods wildly, planting himself near Dustin’s head. Steve can faintly hear Robin and Nancy coming through the trees. He doesn’t have time to feel bad for leaving them behind in this place, doesn’t have time to ask you if you are okay. Because you aren’t and you won’t be—he won’t be if he doesn’t fix this right now. This kid, this stupid kid is everything good and pure and beautiful in this world. Dustin weaseled his way into Steve’s heart and carved out a cave to sleep in. It wasn’t just that he was your brother, it was the way he made Steve laugh, the way he asked for advice and jabbered away to the point of exasperation and yet Steve couldn’t get enough. He was the sibling Steve needed. And if he can’t undo this right now, something will break in you that Steve knows he will never be able to repair.
All these years, he has never had to mention all he has observed. That Dustin is more than a brother showered in your affection. That from the start, you have mothered him in every way possible outside of birth. You were there to pick up the pieces when your parents split, and your mother just…let you take over when things got too hard.
Dustin is your whole world and always has been. And he cannot slip away like this.
“Now!” Steve rasps, taking his hands off Dustin’s chest for a few precious seconds. Eddie blows once, twice into the boy’s mouth, pinching his nose closed.
Steve takes one look at you, now wrapped in the confines of Nancy’s arms before going back at it. He loses track of time outside of the 30 compressions followed by Eddie pushing air into his lungs again and again. It feels like hours but he knows that it has been minutes. Robin is standing behind the spot where Nancy has crouched over you, tears in her eyes. She is shaking her head now, feeling that it is too late. That he is gone.
Steve gets another burst of energy, angry and terrified. He all but throws himself into the compressions, forgoing the careful way he tried to spare the fragile kid’s ribs.
After this round, Eddie goes to give air again when Dustin coughs harshly. Relief floods Steve’s senses as he pulls the boy toward him onto his side. Tremors rack his body as he throws up half the lake, taking in harsh breaths before coughing up more water. Eddie has the good sense to pound against Dustin’s back, half in necessity half to reassure himself that the kid is breathing.
Steve takes a full seat on the rocks as his energy rapidly drains. Unable to talk in-between gasps for air, he fully takes you in. Eyes raking over your body multiple times, he lets out a sigh of relief that you don’t even have a scratch or bump on you. But your eyes tell a different story. You stare and stare at Dustin as he recovers, barely blinking at all. The only indication that you aren’t a statue is the tremor of your hands.
Another moment goes by as Dustin recovers clutching his chest now as Eddie eases him up into a sitting position.
Everything is eerily silent until he rasps out, “Why couldn’t we have a gate on land?”
Robin, as per usual, is the first to break. Hysteric, bubbling laughter pours out from her, with little snorts sporadically placed here and there. Eddie joins in soon after, and Dustin weakly smiles in victory. The smile is wiped off his face pretty quickly as he turns and takes in your expression, unmoved by the laughter.
“Y/N?” He whispers. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t listen during swimming lessons when I was like, five. I promise to never go back into a body of water without a lifejac-”
And then you were there, Dustin locked into your arms as you curl yourself over him protectively. Steve’s eyes blur slightly as you rock back and forth, partially for Dustin but mostly for yourself.
A whimper escapes you and Steve is already moving, even as everything in his body screams in pain. He gathers you both in his arms, clutching you tightly with his chest pressing into your back, hand gripping Dustin’s shirt. At the contact, the dam breaks and you are sobbing and sobbing away.
Steve can hear Dustin, face buried somewhere in your chest muttering I’m sorry, I’m sorry over and over again. You don’t say anything at all, tears covering your face. Steve presses impossibly closer to you, shushing softly in your ear.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you okay?” He says into your hair.
He doesn’t bother looking at the rest of the group, battered and glassy eyed watching the scene. Doesn’t bother looking at Nancy because he knows that the case is closed for them in this moment. The ship has sailed—has been at sea for far longer than she even considered. This is Steve’s whole world, the two people he is practically laying on top protectively. There is no undoing that. And despite his wounds, Steve feels an easy warmth spread through him. He’s going to get you home.
Losers complaining about or ridiculing Lucien's facial scar as if it wasn't one of his hottest features when I distinctly remember watching Finding Nemo as a kid and having a crush on this fucking fish
Tonight we're celebrating the wonderful @roseodelle!
She started writing this year for ACOTAR and has focused primarily on Eris and the Vanserra family! We love to see it 🔥
If you're looking for a multichapter fic: Arcane is an Eris x Unnamed OC fic from Eris's pov with plenty of angst that will absolutely break your heart in the best way. 😭
She also has an angsty drabble - The Apparition - to tide you over until her next project 👀 Eris even makes an appearance in her fic featuring a Vanserra Reader and Azriel!
Read on to learn more about rhy @roseodelle writes about Eris and what his guilty pleasure is!
What’s your favorite Eris fic that you’ve written and Why?
"The Apparition." I love the idea of Eris driven to madness by grief and if I'm ever able to crawl out of the depths of writers block, I'll explore more and add to it.
What do you enjoy most about creating content for Eris?
I love writing for Eris because I feel like compared to other ACOTAR characters, there's a bit less content and a lot less development by SJM so there's more free reign regarding his personality/traits/etc.
How do you think Eris views love and romance?
He def views love as dangerous given the whole "Vanserra" thing, but he does love fiercely.
What’s Eris’s guilty pleasure?
His love for his hounds, his brothers, and his mother is def his guilty pleasure.
How do you think Eris's upbringing influenced his behavior?
His upbringing made him a cautious and conniving little shit and I love the comparison that he's who Rhys would have become without the IC.
Give us a name for one of his brothers
I've used the names "Bastian" and "Alarik" in both of my Eris fics (not very proud of Arcane but it was my first ever fic and I needed to get it out there.)
Give us a name for one of his dogs
He absolutely has a hound named Orla and you can't change my mind about that. She's his oldest and he loves her to death.
I wanted to paint Lucien without his Glamour! Heir markers and all! If this isn't the lord of fire, son of the HL of Day best boy, I don't know who is! I love this man!!
Sorry about the quality, I'm a bit rusty after not being super active, so this was a fun exercise!!
✦ azriel x reader. canon divergent. slow burn. eventual nsfw.
✦ summary: Hewn City is breathtaking in her beauty, known for her cruelty, and simple in the way she is ruled. she is lead by darkness and her people are rumored to thrive within it. no one came and no one went; a true court of nightmares. but, like all cities, Hewn City holds a secret. there were those who were scared of the darkness, who were wary of the nightmares. they wished for something more, for something different, and you made it your purpose to help them. for centuries, you disappeared those who wished to leave, who wished to survive — until Keir calls for your head and the High Lord himself arrives to collect it.
authors note: this series will be chock full of angst and my take on fae politics. there will be mention of abuse, SA, and torture — but none of it will happen in real time or be described in detail. warnings will be included in the affected chapters. we’ve got one-sided pining, one-sided enemies to lovers, found family, and so much more. enjoy <3
✦ part one ; how it ends.
✦ part two ; the inevitable
✦ part three ; failed expectations — PUBLISHED 8.21 !
SUMMARY: A child of light and dark, you are the Night Court’s best kept secret. After decades spent in hiding, you yearn to stretch your wings. But you quickly learn that freedom comes with a price, as you find yourself trying to outfox the fox himself in his own den.
Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"
Word count: ~700
Warnings: azriel's pov, fluff that will make you explode probably idk
a/n: Hi so I'm crazy and needed to write this after getting asks about it and getting inspo surrounding Az singing night court lullabies to Mel. Please enjoy and I'm sorry for two posts in one day 😅
read part one | part two | part three | part four | part five
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
Azriel was back in her room the moment he heard the call.
He’d placed Melanie down in her bed only ten minutes prior, but her sleep had been fitful and disjointed over the past day and Azriel hadn’t expected her to stay down for long. It was strange—the way the bond connecting him to you burned with the same protectiveness for Melanie.
“Hey, Melanie,” Azriel whispered, kneeling beside her bed with his fingers resting on the outer edge of her quilt. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”
Melanie sat up in her bed with a small groan, the braid you had put in her hair earlier in disarray. “Yeah. Don’t wanna sleep. Where’s mommy?”
Azriel hummed and pushed a wild curl behind her ear. “Mommy’s sick, so she’s sleeping. Like you should be.”
“You aren’t sick, Mr. Azriel?”
“No, I can’t get sick like you. Not right now, anyway.”
Melanie’s brow furrowed and her head swayed. “Can you hold me like mommy does?”
Azriel’s heart shattered in his chest at her request. Her sleepy eyes blearily stared up at him as he let out a shaky breath and attempted to push down some of his joy at her request.
Maybe you didn’t fully trust him yet, but Melanie did.
“Sure, sweetheart,” he replied, reaching out beneath her arms to hoist her up. When her head immediately found a home in the juncture of his neck, Azriel melted. “Are you feeling any better?”
Melanie fisted Azriel’s shirt as he situated her against his chest. “Little bit.”
Sometimes, when she spoke, Azriel could hear you in Melanie’s voice.
He wanted so badly to be part of that connection.
The want often scared him.
“Can we go to mommy’s room?” she asked, pulling her head up to send him a sleepy question. “Not to wake her up. Mommy’s room is just nice.”
The two of you always sought each other out—always found safety in being near.
Azriel rubbed Melanie’s back and nodded with a smile that was fueled both by adoration and melancholy.
Your room was dark when he entered. Melanie had taken a glance at your sleeping figure and then rested her head back into the crook of Azriel’s neck. He could feel each breath she took and felt each clench of her fists into his shirt.
“Is this better?” Azriel asked, voice so low and careful he wasn’t sure if the five-year-old would hear him.
But Melanie nodded and whispered back a small confirmation that made Azriel’s chest hurt. He held her closer to his chest and watched the rise and fall of yours as you slept an arm’s length away. When Melanie’s breathing didn’t even out after a few minutes, he placed a hand behind her head and started lightly swaying.
“You have to try and sleep, Mel. That’s how you get better,” he whispered into her ear.
“I’m trying,” she whispered back, strained and trying to keep quiet for her mom. “It’s hard, Mr. Azriel. My head doesn’t feel good.”
Azriel tutted and hated that there was very little he could do for this illness. “I know, Mel. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Her only response was to bury her face further into his shoulder.
Azriel thought back to his youth, to the perils and hardships he had endured, and he sought after the light—the good moments. His mother’s singing stood out, the melody of a Night Court lullaby gently lulling in his mind.
Azriel didn’t have much experience with children other than Nyx, but, with Melanie, that didn’t seem to matter. With Melanie, everything came to him with a practiced ease that didn’t feel deserved. But he took from it anyway.
So, Azriel began to hum the lullabies from his childhood, wrapping a wing around the child in his arms to block everything else out.
Summary: After Lucien reluctantly agrees to meet with Eris, he’s shocked when his brother reveals his biggest secret: he has eight-year-old twin daughters. Unwilling to entrust them to anyone else and with Beron's gaze on him more intense than ever, Eris has Lucien swear to protect the girls and take them with him.
When it becomes clear they can’t stay in the human lands even when glamoured to look human, Lucien turns to the Night Court. While it’s easier to handle outbursts of young magic there, Lucien needs help. Enter Elain, who bonded quickly with the twins.
On top of everything else, Lucien and Elain start to navigate their bond while also finding out a few more secrets, like who Lucien’s actual father is. It's an Autumn and Day Court family drama Elucien fic! [M]
Link to Chapter 21 on Ao3
Link to Chapter 1 on Ao3
Snippet:
When Elain began walking around the fountain, she noticed a little girl sitting on the edge of the fountain who had previously been hidden by the statues.
The girl had long, dark red hair and pale skin dotted with golden freckles. A couple braids were tucked into her silky hair. A headband held her hair back and covered her ears. Her dress was cute, light green with dolphins like the ones on the fountain embroidered around the hem and short sleeves. The soft ankle high deerskin boots she was wearing with it matched but didn’t look Summer-made. As Elain stopped nearby, she caught the scent of cardamom and chamomile. The girl looked at her uncertainly and abruptly stood up, like a rabbit that had been startled into movement.
“Hello,” Elain said with a smile, trying not to stare openly at the girl. “Are you enjoying the garden? I’ve loved where I’ve wandered through it.”
Swiftly picking up a few flowers that had been spread out on the edge of the fountain, the girl took a step back. She glanced back over her shoulder as if picking an escape route.
Elain stopped moving. She clasped her hands in front of her dress. “I rather like this fountain myself. I’ve never seen a dolphin, but I hope I can remedy that soon. Have you seen a dolphin?”
Now the girl looked back at her, curiosity lighting in her blue eyes as she must have realized Elain wasn’t from this court. Elain could see her taking everything into account, those clever eyes gliding down from Elain's hairstyle to her shoes, acquiring information. Still, she took another step back.
“Phoebe! Where are you?”
Elain’s heart jumped to her throat at the sound of Lucien’s voice before he stepped into the fountain’s square. He wore loose trousers and a white shirt that was partially untied, showing off some of his chest. His long red hair was half-up, caught in an intricate fishtail braid. The summer sunshine seemed to make him glow.
Lucien jolted to a halt, the seashells scattering under his feet, as his cousin rushed toward him. He caught her as she reached him, his gaze passing over her as if checking for harm before he stared at Elain again. Absently, he brushed a hand over the girl’s head as she looked up at him, the flowers still clutched in her hand. “I asked you not to run off while Tarquin gave us a tour, didn’t I? He went to go look for you in the other direction, so now we have to go play hide and seek with a High Lord.”
“I didn’t run,” she said, “I stayed in place and you moved on.”
Summary: A magical incident causes Azriel to unexpectedly tumble through a portal into modern-day Earth. Confused and injured, he is discovered by a compassionate human woman with a hidden past. She takes care of him and helps him discover the complexities of the modern world, completely unaware of who she truly is. Meanwhile, Azriel struggles with his conflicting desires: his duty to the Night Court and his growing love for the woman who saved him.
Their journey unfolds amidst ancient prophecies and the looming threat in Prythian. As they uncover the truth about forces conspiring against them, they must confront their deepest fears and make choices that will change their lives and the world forever.
Warnings: language, heavy angst, character deaths (not main), mentions of torture, mention of miscarriage, seriously this is a dark one
Word Count: 5.4k
series masterlist
a/n: i am so sorry... *hides behind computer screen* i promise this story has a happy ending...
Enjoy!
Azriel opened his eyes slowly, his head throbbing as the memories of the night washed over him. He was lying on a cold, hard floor in a dimly lit room. Each breath he took sent sharp pains coursing through his body due to the tight ropes binding his wrists behind him.
Pain pulsed through his body as he struggled against the ropes, each movement exacerbated by a deep, throbbing ache in his abdomen. The hard surface beneath him drew the heat from his body, leaving him cold and shivering.
Azriel’s jaw was clenched in a mix of anger and pain, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought to control the agony and think clearly. Despite the overwhelming pain, his eyes scanned the room for any detail that could be used to his advantage.
He lay on the floor of what looked like a dining room. It was elegantly furnished, with a large dining table in the center. There were plates on the table, full of half-eaten food. Above the table, there was a simple chandelier, casting soft, scattered light across the room. He narrowed his eyes as he scanned the portraits on the wall above the table.
There were different portraits of a man, a woman, and a young woman, all smiling at each other. Some of them were of the man and woman together, while others were of the young woman alone.
Az forced his eyes to focus, grunting against his blurry vision. His heart stuttered as he realized the portraits were of Lou, Celeste, and you.
He was at your parent’s house.
He struggled against the ropes, his shoulders screaming in agony as he tried to free himself. Azriel’s mind whirled, trying to figure out what the hell had happened. Had your parents been the ones who kidnapped him? Had you told them about the paintings, making them so angry that they decided to take matters into their own hands? Did you know he was here?
Azriel was so focused on himself that he almost missed the sound of labored breathing to his right. He paused and turned his head, his eyes scanning the dining room, the room falling away into silence as he looked.
Celeste was lying on the ground against a bookshelf. Her leg was twisted at an odd angle, and her floral-printed shirt was stained with blood. Her pretty face was marred by bruises and dried blood, and her eyes were closed in a peaceful yet haunting semblance of sleep.
She was dead.
“Damn it,” Azriel groaned, dragging his body across the floor to reach her. As he got closer, though, he saw her chest rising and falling with labored breaths. “Celeste. Wake up,” he said softly. “Please wake up.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes. They were red and bloodshot, as if she had been crying. “Azriel,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Where is Y/N?” Blood trickled from the corner of her lips as she spoke.
Azriel leaned forward to look at the wound on her chest, careful to balance himself despite his bound hands. The wound looked like it was caused by a knife or dagger, and it looked like a mortal wound. “She went home,” he whispered, his voice laden with pain and guilt. “You told me to keep her safe. I failed you. I am so sorry.”
Celeste shook her head slightly. “She isn’t here, is she? If she were here…” she trailed off, taking a rough breath.
Azriel looked around the room, searching for her husband. “Where is Lou?” he asked.
She closed her eyes, and Azriel saw a single tear fall down her swollen cheek. “He’s dead. He tried to fight him off, but he wasn’t strong enough.” She tilted her eyes up, gesturing toward the hallway to their left. Azriel turned his head, and he gasped as he saw Lou lying there in a puddle of blood.
Even from here, Azriel could see that he was gone, that the life had left his body.
Icy rage filled Azriel, and he began to pull at the ropes again, not caring how badly they were biting into his wrists. “Who did this?” he snarled.
A low masculine chuckle filled the room, followed by lazy footsteps. “Look who’s finally awake,” the man said. But the voice was familiar to Azriel, and his vision went red with anger as he looked up at the man.
Matt stood at the doorway at the far end of the dining room. He was wearing a gray suit, and it was splattered with drops of blood. He held a silver hunting dagger in his hand, and he twirled it lazily between his fingers. “Sorry to ruin your evening, shadowsinger,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe, “but it’s just business. I’m sure you understand.”
“You,” Azriel growled, still pulling at the bindings. They weren’t budging, and a small part of him wondered who the hell had taught Matt how to tie such pristine knots. “You were at the ball. I saw you.”
“I was following you,” Matt responded with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I had planned on taking you earlier, but after what I witnessed between you and darling Y/N on the balcony…” He clicked his tongue before continuing, “I decided to wait and see what happened.”
Azriel’s body went numb as he mentioned you, and a horror he had never known filled his body at the thought of what this man could have done to you. “Where is she?” Azriel asked, afraid of the answer.
He normally wouldn’t be so straightforward. He was a spymaster, and he knew the dangers of revealing too much information. But he was desperate, and there were no other options.
Matt raised something in his hands. It was a cell phone, Az realized. “She should be here soon,” he said with a smirk. He looked over at Celeste, who was squirming uncomfortably on the floor. “The bond between a mother and daughter is truly something to admire.”
Celeste groaned. “Don’t you fucking touch her,” she said, her voice nothing but a whisper.
“What do you want, Matt?” Azriel asked. “Leave Y/N out of this. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Matt chuckled. “Well to begin, I would like you to call me by my real name, which is Mathias. But, unfortunately, Y/N is the one I came here for. And you, of course.”
“Then why did you do this to her parents?” He could have just taken Azriel and left them out of this. There was a special place in hell for Mathias, and if Azriel ever got the chance, he would make sure to be the one to send him there.
“They were just collateral. Wrong place, wrong time, as they say.”
Azriel gave up pulling at the ropes, his body filling with a heavy exhaustion. He glanced down to his pockets, and he felt a small sense of relief when he saw that his siphons were still there.
But they were still empty, and he still didn’t have his magic. He was weak. Completely useless.
“But this is all an easy fix,” Mathias continued on. “I will kill you, shadowsinger, and I will take your sweetheart with me back to Prythian.”
“Back to Prythian?” Az asked. “How do you know about Prythian?”
Mathias chuckled. “Did you really think I was human?” he asked. “Some spymaster you are if a measly glamour can fool you.”
Azriel looked at the male again, but this time, he saw a glimmer around Mathias, as if he had shielded himself with something. He looked human, but now that it had been brought to Azriel’s attention, he could sense a strange, otherworldly power radiating from Mathias. He had been fooled.
Just another failure to add to the list.
“Why are you here?” Azriel demanded, looking over his shoulder at Celeste. She was looking at him with pleading eyes, and he understood what she was asking. Keep my daughter safe.
Azriel didn’t know how he was going to keep you away from this male, but at that moment, he decided he would do anything to accomplish it.
Even if that meant giving up his own life for your safety.
He was saved from doing and saying something profoundly stupid as he heard a car pull into the driveway. He held his breath as he heard footsteps- your footsteps- running up the stairs outside. His mind went quiet entirely as the front door opened, and your sweet scent filled the room.
Azriel could do nothing but stare at you as you stalked into the dining room with eyes full of enough rage to bring down an army.
---
“What the fuck is going on?” you snarled, your voice sounding foreign to you.
The drive to your parent’s house had seemed to take forever, and you had nothing better to do but think. The more you thought about that strange text message from your mother, the more alarmed you became.
Your mother was a creature of habit, and you knew that she would never text you past 10 p.m., even if Azriel had shown up at their door. She was the type to deal with it and text you about it later in the morning.
Hell, the woman didn’t even sleep with her phone in the bedroom.
Your anxiety reached new heights as you drove up to the house. It was dark, save for a dim light in the dining room. Unease had filled your veins as you got out of your car, your legs taking on a mind of their own as they carried you up the steps and into the quiet house.
Now, you glanced around the room, your eyes stopping as you saw Azriel sitting on the floor. He was covered in blood, and his face and eyes were almost swollen shut. It was clear that he was in pain, and your nurse instincts took over as you looked at him. “Azriel,” you gasped, lurching toward him.
He shook his head, angling his body away from you. “Don’t worry about me,” he mumbled. “Go to your mother.”
Your entire world stopped as you looked behind Azriel and saw your mother lying in a pool of her own blood. Her face was pale, and her chest was shaking, as if she were struggling for each breath.
“Mama,” you cried, throwing your body over hers, not caring that her blood was soaking through your dress. You didn’t care that you called her Mama, which is something you hadn’t done since you were a child.
“My darling,” she whispered, reaching up to push your hair behind your ear. Her fingers on your cheek were cold, as if the life was already leaving her body. “Are you alright?”
You choked out a laugh as tears began to well in your eyes. “You’re bleeding on the floor, and you ask me if I’m alright?” you responded as you started to look at her wounds. You pulled her shirt down to look at her chest, and you gasped as you saw the hole there. Blood was pouring from it, so you reached down and tore off a large piece of fabric from your dress. You bundled it up in your hands and placed it on her chest, applying pressure as needed. “Where is dad?”
“He’s gone,” your mother said, her tone distant, her eyes empty.
“Gone where?” you asked as you continued to look over her body. Her leg was twisted, no doubt broken, and you quickly tried to think of all the things in this house you could use to stabilize it. There was nothing here, though, so you reached down to the pocket of your dress to grab your phone. “Damn it. I left my phone in the car. I need to get you to the hospital.”
Your mother grabbed the hand that was on her chest, her fingers digging into your wrist. “Your father is gone, Y/N. He’s dead. He died trying to fight him.”
The room around you started to spin as her words washed over you. Your father… the man who had raised you and loved you always, no matter the hell you had put him through. The man who had worked long nights and early mornings to provide for his family. The man who had taught you how to ride a bike and drive a car. Even now, you could hear his hearty laughter in your mind, and it was with a sharp pang in your chest that you realized you would never hear it again. But your mother had said he had died fighting someone.
Your body was numb, your mind silent, as you asked, “He died fighting who?”
From behind you, you heard a sinister laugh that made your entire body shiver. “The old man put up a good fight,” the voice said. It was masculine and strangely familiar. “But he was no match for me, especially when I shoved a dagger through his heart.”
Slowly, you turned your head to face the man who had killed your father. But it was no ordinary man that stood before you. It was Matt, dressed in a tailored suit. “You did this? All of this?” you asked, your voice cold. Deep in your bones, you could feel a tempest raging, like a storm on the ocean. “Why?”
Matthew laughed again, his head thrown back as if the two of you were talking about the weather. “For you, of course. I’ve already told your dear Azriel the whole of it. My name is Mathias, and I was sent here from Prythian to bring you back. I have been following the two of you all night. I was surprised to see you had left poor Azriel alone on the streets, but it gave me the perfect opportunity to lure you here, and to kill him.”
You glanced at Azriel. His head was lowered, his shoulders hunched, as if he were carrying the weight of the world on them. “I am so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “I couldn’t stop him. He knocked me out, and he did all of… this before I woke up.”
All of the anger you had felt earlier dissipated in a moment. Perhaps when you were faced with life and death, things were put into a different perspective. You slid across the floor to him, grabbing him gently by the shoulder. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I forgive you, Azzy.”
He shuddered under your touch, his breath leaving him in a hiss. “If we survive this,” he said, turning his head to the side to look at you, “I will explain everything.”
“The two of you look so cute together,” Mathias drawled. He took a few steps toward you, and you felt Azriel tense under your hand. “Too bad your love for each other will be cut short.” He pulled a silver dagger from the inside of his jacket pocket, the blade gleaming in the light. “I’ve always wondered if the half-breed Illyrian warriors bleed red like the rest of us. I guess I’ll find out tonight."
You moved your hand down to the ropes binding Azriel’s wrists, your eyes on Mathias as he stalked toward you. “Can you fight, Azriel?” you asked as you started to undo the bindings. He was injured, but he was a warrior. An Illyrian warrior.
Whatever the hell that was.
Azriel sucked in a breath as his hands were freed, but he kept them behind his back. “Go to your mother,” he whispered, his eyes locked on Mathias. They were filled with predatory focus, a dark gleam that promised unending pain to anyone who hurt those he loved. “I will try to fight him off.”
You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “I expect an explanation when all of this is over, Azzy,” you whispered.
He didn’t respond, but you didn’t miss the slight smile that he gave you. Azriel braced himself on the ground and pushed himself up, standing to his full height. Even from where you were on the floor, you could see that he was taller than Mathias, his shoulders broader, his body built to kill.
Mathias looked down at you, his eyes full of hatred. “Conniving little witch,” he snarled. He lunged at Azriel, his dagger at the ready. Azriel stepped to the side, his body moving so fast he looked like a blur. He grunted in pain as he moved, but he stayed upright.
You pushed away the thought that plagued your mind, the one that wondered where he had learned to manage pain like that.
A part of you wanted to watch the two of them fight, but you had to take care of your mother. You scrambled back to her side, placing your hand once again on her chest. Her eyes were closed, her lips blue. “Mom?” you whispered. “Please wake up. Please don’t leave me.”
Slowly, your mother opened her eyes. Her pupils were blown out, which wasn’t a good sign. “Y/N,” she gasped, “I need you to listen to me very carefully.” She coughed, and you watched in horror as blood spilled from the corner of her mouth.
“Shh,” you cooed, running your hands through her blood-soaked hair. “Don’t speak. It will only tire you out.” You needed to get your phone to call for help, but you also couldn’t tear yourself away from her. A part of you knew that it was too late, and you didn’t want to leave your mother dying on the floor alone.
“Your father and I tried for a child for many years, but we were never blessed with one,” your mother whispered, her chest rattling. “We had many miscarriages before the doctors finally told us my body was not capable of carrying a child. Twenty-five years ago, we were sitting on the front porch when a woman dressed in black approached us. She handed us a child, a baby, and she told us to protect her. To keep her safe. We didn’t have to time answer any questions because she disappeared as quickly as she came… Y/N, that baby was you.”
You stared down at your mother, the room silent except for the sound of Azriel and Mathias fighting behind you. You wanted to turn around to see if Azriel was alright, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the woman on the floor in front of you.
What Mama Laveau had said was true. Your parents… weren’t your parents.
“I did not give birth to you, Y/N, but you are our daughter. You are the best thing that ever happened to us,” she said, her eyes moving to stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t have the answers to your questions, my love, and I am sorry for not telling you sooner.” She looked at you then, steel entering her voice as she said, “Stay with Azriel. He can protect you. Promise me you will stay with him.”
So many things raced through your mind. There was so much you wanted to say, so many questions you wanted to ask. But for now, you could only say, “I promise.”
Your mother smiled, that kind smile that had eased your mind for years. She kept her eyes on you as she closed them, death finally claiming her broken body.
“Mama! No!” you screamed, but you knew it was too late. You lowered your head to her chest, sobs wracking through your body at the silence that had replaced her once-beating heart.
Azriel’s pained groan caught your attention, and you sat up, turning around the watch the scene behind you. Mathias had Azriel in a chokehold on the ground. You caught Azriel’s gaze, and his eyes were filled with pain and sorrow.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he gasped. “Please forgive me.”
You quickly moved down and pressed a kiss to your mother’s cold forehead. “I promise I will stay with him,” you whispered to her, hoping she could hear you through death’s divide. “I promise to make this right.”
You stood and turned around, squaring your shoulders against the heartbreak you felt. You didn’t know how to fight, but there had been too much death tonight. You wouldn’t stand by and let Azriel fight alone. And if he died…
Well, he wouldn’t die alone, either.
But you weren’t fast enough. You turned around just in time to watch as Mathias shoved his dagger into Azriel’s heart.
The world went quiet. You didn’t even hear Azriel’s scream of agony. You could only watch as his blood poured down his chest and splattered onto the floor. He crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap, and Mathias tipped his head back and laughed.
“It seems you do bleed red, bastard,” he mused, raising the blade to look at the blood covering it. He turned to face you, his expression nothing short of evil. “Now that we have no more distractions, my dear,” he said, pulling something that looked like glass from his pocket, “let’s go back to Prythian. The queen has requested your presence.”
Azriel raised his head just enough for you to look at him. Blood was spilling from his mouth as he tried to speak, but he was unable to form the words.
Stay with Azriel. He can protect you.
From deep within, that tempest that had been raging rolled on. Fire spread through your bones, your body, and an otherworldly anger filled your heart. Mathias had taken your father and mother, and it would be over your dead body that he took Azriel from you.
The world narrowed down to a single ember that seemed to burn within your chest. You closed your eyes and reached down deep into yourself, coaxing it to come alive. The ember turned into a living flame, so bright that it seemed to burn through your chest. You snapped your eyes open, gaze locked on Mathias. Something like fear raced across his features as he stepped back, his hand gripping the glass. You smiled at him as that fire roared through your body.
There was a voice inside of your head, old and ancient. It said, Rise up, our queen. Rise up.
You exploded.
---
Azriel was standing in a stark, barren landscape from his childhood: the unforgiving terrain of the Illyrian camps. The sky was overcast, a heavy gray that pressed down, totally suffocating the light. In the distance, a woman appeared, her face more familiar to him than his own.
His mother’s figure was shrouded in mist, her face dark and unreachable. She stood on the other side of a wide chasm that split the earth between them, her hands reaching out towards him with a desperate urgency he could feel even from afar.
Azriel ran towards her, his feet heavy, each step a struggle against the cold wind that ripped across the barren land. Her voice called out to him, carried on the wind, saying, “Azriel, my son. Do not give up. She needs you. We need her.” Her figure started to flicker, like a candle struggling against a storm, and no matter how fast he ran, the chasm remained wide and insurmountable.
He called out to her, but the wind swallowed up his words, and her image dissolved into mist. He grasped at the air as pain surged through him, not just from physical wounds but from a deep, aching sense of loss. He heard the voices and screams of all of those he had tortured and killed in his five hundred years. He heard your voice telling him how badly he had failed and hurt you.
“If this is where it ends,” he said to himself as the world started to fall away, “let it be so.”
The world shifted, the landscape crumbling away, and he was left falling, the echo of the voices growing fainter as he too dissolved into the darkness…
Azriel’s eyes snapped open, wrenching him back to the harsh light of reality. He was lying crumpled on the ground, and for a moment, he couldn’t distinguish between the dream and the waking world.
He raised his head, desperately looking around the dining room for you. He remembered seeing you hovering over your mother’s dead body. He remembered Mathias’s dagger going into his chest.
His memories were murky, but he did not recall the room being engulfed in flames. And he definitely did not remember being engulfed in flames himself.
Azriel scrambled back as bright, orange flames licked their way up his broken body. For a moment, the pain was so blinding he couldn’t even scream. He was suddenly taken back in time, back to that dark dungeon in his father’s keep. He could hear his half-brother’s laughing. He could smell the scent of his burning flesh.
But as soon as the pain started, it ebbed away. Azriel looked down at his body as the flames wrapped around him. They were no longer wild and uncontrolled. Now, they licked up his flesh in soothing waves, calming him. Healing him.
As the strange fire enveloped Azriel, the hole in his chest began to close, the flesh knitting together. The pain in his face went away, and he felt his broken nose and swollen lips and eyes heal in an instant. Deep within his pocket, the siphons suddenly sparked to life in a pulsating wave of blue light. The sudden wave of power rushing through him was strong, flooding his veins like a river breaking through a dam.
He roared in pain as his wings forcefully erupted from his back. The fabric of his jacket tore with a harsh rip as he instinctively spread them wide. The sensation was excruciating yet exhilarating as his wings found their strength again, the muscles and sinews awoken by whatever magic was coursing through him.
Simultaneously, shadows began to gather around him, their darkness mixing with the healing flames around his body. They swirled and danced in the air, caressing his newly healed skin and wings with a familiar coolness, their whispers filling his ears with the sounds of hidden secrets and silent promises.
As the pain subsided, Azriel felt more alive than he had in ages. His connection to the shadows deepened, their presence reassuring and empowering. With each beat of his heart, power pulsed stronger, fueling his senses. The raw energy was intoxicating, filling him with a potent mix of relief and invincibility.
He braced his hands against the floor, pressing down to raise himself up. The shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court stood, the flames winking out as his shadows surrounded him.
Master, master, they urged, their familiar whispers calming him enough to focus. Y/N needs you.
As Azriel spun in a circle, his wings clipped the wall, sending a spray of dust into the air. Panic surged through him as he frantically scanned the burning room for you. His mind recoiled at the thought of finding your body consumed by flames. You were human, so the fire would be merciless to you.
He froze, his breath catching in his throat as he caught sight of a burning figure before him. His heart thundered, pounding against his chest as he took a tentative step forward. “Y/N?” he whispered, his voice raspy and strained from shouting over the roar of the flames.
Throughout his long life, Azriel had faced death and countless horrors that haunted even the bravest souls. He had stared down enemies and survived battles that would be spoken of in hushed, reverent tones for generations. But none of that, no terror he had ever known, could compare to the gut-wrenching fear clutching at him now.
Yet, as he stood there, something miraculous unfolded before his eyes. The flames that engulfed your body didn’t consume you; instead, they seemed to become a part of you, a blazing aura that radiated with intense heat and light. Your figure stood resilient, unharmed amidst the inferno, your eyes opening slowly to reveal a fierce, fiery gaze that matched the surrounding blaze. The room was illuminated brightly by the flames, revealing not a scene of destruction, but one of transformation
Your eyes were like liquid gold, flames dancing within them. That strange symbol on your chest was burning bright, like a powerful beacon. Your hair was moving in a strange wind, embers dancing around your head, almost like a crown. And at your back… you had wings. Great, mighty wings that were laced in fire.
You were truly a wildfire, powerful and untamed.
As Azriel’s eyes met yours amidst the swirling flames, a profound shift occurred deep within him. It was a startling sensation, a moment of recognition and connection that went beyond this realm, this world. The was a tightness in his chest, an ever-growing tension, like a cord waiting to snap. His heart, which had been pounding with fear, now beat with a new purpose, as if a missing piece had been locked into place.
He gasped as the cord snapped into place. You were his mate.
A sudden clarity washed over him. Every doubt and fear was swept away, replaced by a certainty that you were meant to be his, just as he was meant to be yours.
You were his mate, and you were burning, just like the world was burning. And Mathias…
Azriel searched through the flames for that traitor, that male who now posed a threat to the other half of his soul. “Mathias!” he roared, his voice dripping with venom. “Where the hell are you?”
He saw a flash of something through the flames, like glass, and he heard Mathias call out, “I’ll see you on the other side, shadowsinger.”
Azriel caught sight of Mathias for only a few seconds before he vanished into thin air, as if he had winnowed away.
“I will find you, you fucking bastard!” Azriel yelled, but Mathias was gone. Azriel’s mind was already whirling, thinking of all the ways he would torture that male when he got his hands on him.
Azriel reached out toward you, intent on grounding you from the maelstrom of power you were unleashing, but he recoiled sharply as your scream pierced the air. The sound was primal, full of raw energy, resonating with such force that the windows of the house couldn't withstand the vibration and shattered into a thousand pieces. Glass flew like crystalline rain, catching the light of the fire and twinkling in the chaos.
The room trembled, the foundations of the house groaning under the sudden, overwhelming force. A fierce wind whipped through the broken windows, howling like the spirits of the Whispering Woods themselves had been summoned into this small space. It swirled around you, the flames dancing wildly, coalescing into a vortex that centered on your figure. Azriel watched, his heart caught between awe and fear, as the air around you shimmered with the power of raw, untamed magic.
Suddenly, the space before you began to warp and twist, the air thickening as if struggling to contain the power you were channeling. A hole tore open with a sound like ripping fabric, revealing glimpses of another place—a hole like the one Azriel had fallen through a few days ago. Through the portal, he could see passing images of Prythian, his home. The energy pouring from you intensified as the portal stabilized, the edges of the tear glowing with the same fierce light that enveloped you.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, the storm of magic ceased. Your body, overwhelmed by the exertion, went limp, and you collapsed. Azriel, reacting instantly despite his shock, darted forward to catch you before you hit the ground. Cradling you in his arms, he gazed down at your exhausted face. The flames had left you completely unscathed, but your entire body was covered in sweat, and your dress was handing in tatters. Your wings had disappeared, and he held your shivering, small body close to his.
“Fyrvor,” he whispered, running a finger down your cheek, “let’s go home.”
Azriel adjusted your weight in his arms, ensuring you were secure and as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead. The last time he had traveled through a portal, it had been intense and blindingly painful.
Azriel cast one last glance at the burning house, his eye catching on Celeste’s body lying on the floor. The flames were reaching her now, and it would only be a matter of time before she would be engulfed entirely. “I swear on my life to protect her,” he promised the woman, hoping she could hear him beyond the veil of death. “She is mine.”
He crossed the threshold into the portal, his eyes closing as the world he had come to know fell away for a few moments.
With his mate secure in his arms, Azriel went home, back to Prythian.
tag list: @starofanotherworld @lilah-asteria @melmo567
Summary: After Lucien reluctantly agrees to meet with Eris, he’s shocked when his brother reveals his biggest secret: he has eight-year-old twin daughters. Unwilling to entrust them to anyone else and with Beron's gaze on him more intense than ever, Eris has Lucien swear to protect the girls and take them with him.
When it becomes clear they can’t stay in the human lands even when glamoured to look human, Lucien turns to the Night Court. While it’s easier to handle outbursts of young magic there, Lucien needs help. Enter Elain, who bonded quickly with the twins.
On top of everything else, Lucien and Elain start to navigate their bond while also finding out a few more secrets, like who Lucien’s actual father is. It's an Autumn and Day Court family drama Elucien fic! [M]
Link to Chapter 20 on Ao3
Link to Chapter 1 on Ao3
Snippet:
“But I think that even if The Mother chooses mates to watch the journey, it’s because she likes love stories. She wants us to be happy with the one she picks for us. Or I wish she does.”
Lucien's smirk was acerbic. “Or maybe she likes watching us suffer emotional torment.”
“Now who’s being blasphemous?” Aurae smiled. “In any case, Elain seems to care enough about you to let you know you should change the meeting location. And she wants to go too.” The corner of her mouth lifted higher. “If you’ll let her.”
Lucien sighed heavily. “Of course I’m going to say she can attend. And then I’ll lie to her about the girls, too.” An excellent addition to their already disastrous mating bond saga. With his luck, she would have a vision the very first night and expose their lies. But he couldn’t stop that. Elain could have a vision at any moment and know everything even if she was all the way in Night Court.
Aurae’s expression turned wry. “Lying to the people we care about the most. An Autumn Court tradition.”
Lucien couldn’t stop his sudden grin, born from exhaustion and dark humor and the fact she had admitted she was now a member of the Autumn Court. “Welcome to the family.” He tilted his head slightly. “What are you lying about to Eris?”
Aurae waved a hand in the air. “Nothing.” But a sly expression remained on her face. “Anymore.”
“Oh, you’ll fit right in.”
She gave him a long, even stare. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then glanced up at the ceiling as if shooting off a prayer. “If you only knew.”
Lucien wanted to ask for clarification, but he heard the front door open so hard it hit the opposite wall. Seeing how it wasn’t a light door, someone must have been quite enraged.
“You make everything awful!” Zoreia shouted so loud it nearly turned into a screech. A puppy’s yappy bark underscored her yelling. “Go back to Autumn and rot!”
Lucien moved toward the kitchen door, wondering what exactly Eris had said to elicit such a vehement response. “What in the—”
