I just discovered your fics and I’m eating them up! Can you do something for any of the bat boys (I’m impartial, I love them all equally) with the prompt “I don’t think you were ever mine to love, no matter how much I had hoped you would be.” Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, I live for it all. Thank you!!
Unchosen (Rhysand x Reader) (eventual Azriel x Reader)
(Photos courtesy of Pinterest)
Summary: Rhysand had chosen you for centuries as his partner, his lover, his friend. But what happens when he returns from UTM with a mate?
Authors Note: This was a hard one to write guys, I'm not going to lie. Prepare to be in the feels and warnings for heavy angst below. However, this will be in two parts and the next part will be about finding love again with our favourite Shadowsinger. Initially I had planned for it be with Eris, but I think Azriel makes more sense - comment below who you would prefer!
The first thing you noticed was the silence.
Not the absence of sound - the House was never truly quiet - but the absence of him in it. The way Rhysand used to fill a room without trying, all wit and lazy confidence and that low, amused drawl that always seemed meant just for you.
That part of him felt muted now.
You told yourself it made sense.
After Under the Mountain, how could he not have changed?
You'd seen the aftermath in pieces - the tension that never quite left his shoulders, the way his eyes sometimes went distant, like he was somewhere else entirely. The careful control, sharper now, tighter.
He wasn't sleeping properly. He kept refusing to come to bed, locking himself in the study on the pretence that he had fifty years of correspondence, issues and affairs of the Night Court to catch up on.
But it wasn't just the silence. It was the distance.
Rhys had always been busy - that wasn't new. A High Lord's duties didn't pause for anything. But before, he always made time for you.
A glance across the room that lingered until you made eye contact and he would wink. A brush of his hand against yours when he passed. A quiet comment meant only for you, slipped between conversations like a secret.
But, now?
Those moments were missing, or cut short.
One evening, only a day after he had returned, you caught it.
Mor was laughing at something Cassian had said, Amren sat nearby with Rhys at her side. Azriel was stood by the window, watching the city glowing softly beyond the windows.
It should have been easy - familiar.
You felt eyes on you.
You looked up and there it was.
That familiar violet gaze that you adored so much. That you never thought you would see again.
There was a flicker of something - recognition, warmth, something deeper-
And then, it was gone.
Like he'd caught himself.
You frowned slightly, the moment sitting wrong in your chest.
When he turned away, it wasn't with ease. It was deliberate.
That was new.
You understood.
You had only dreamed the day would come when he would return. The day that he would sit amongst the Inner Circle again, conversing, laughing, drinking.
He'd been through hell.
Of course he was different. Of course things felt off.
You just needed to give him time.
So you didn't question it, not at first.
So you gave him space.
You didn't push when he kept conversations short. Didn't comment when he left early. Didn't question the way he seemed to hover on the edges of your orbit rather than step into it like he used to.
You told yourself it was kindness. Understanding. Patience.
You would choose Rhys again and again, just like how he had always chosen you.
You would wait for him, just like how you waited for the last fifty years.
But you couldn't shake the feeling that everything was different now and things would never be the same again.
The library had always been your place.
Quiet. Steady. Unchanging.
It was where you went when the rest of the world felt uncertain.
That evening, you were perched in your usual chair, a book open in your lap, though you hadn't turned the page in a while.
Your mind wasn't on the words.
It kept drifting back to him.
The door opened softly.
You didn't turn immediately. You didn't need to. You knew it was him from his presence alone, the weight of his power creeping into the space.
"I've been looking for you," Rhys's voice came, smooth as ever, behind you.
You glance over your shoulder, offering a small smile. "Here I am."
He steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him.
For a moment, he just stands there watching you.
Something in your chest tightens.
Because that look - you knew that look.
You marked your place in the book, closing it gently.
"What is it?" You asked tilting your head slightly.
He didn't answer straight away.
Instead, he moved further into the room, taking slow and measured steps, like he was approaching something fragile.
Or dangerous.
"We haven't...spoken properly," he said.
The tightness in your chest pulls a little sharper.
You set the book aside completely now.
"Alright," you said quietly. "Then talk to me."
He perches on the armchair across from you. He's close enough that you can see the faint shadows beneath his eyes. There's tension lingering in the line of his shoulders.
Once upon a time, he would have reached for you without thinking.
But, he didn't.
"I need to tell you something," he said.
There it was again.
That feeling.
That subtle shift in the air - like the moment before a storm breaks.
You hold his gaze, steady, even as something in your stomach begins to twist.
The tension you thought that had been building since he'd returned peaked.
And then he looked at you - really looked at you.
Not like he had in passing the past weeks.
But fully, deeply. Like he was committing you to memory.
"I didn't expect this," he said quietly.
Your heart skipped, just once.
You don't interrupt.
He pauses.
And just like that-
Everything changes.
"I found my mate."
"She saved me, she's the reason why-"
"But she's marrying another, why can't you-"
"It changes things for me."
"But when we fell in love, all those centuries ago, you knew I wasn't your mate then."
"I'm sorry."
"How could you do this to me?"
"I waited for you."
"I know."
They stopped knocking after the first day.
At first, it had been gentle.
A quiet tap at the door. Mor's voice, soft and coaxing. Cassian trying to sound casual, like he wasn't worried. Azriel - silent, but there, a present just beyond the wood, his shadows attempting to slink beneath the door. Even Amren, her usual snarks softened as she told you to stop moping and get out of bed.
You hadn't answered.
You couldn't.
By the third day, the House of Wind felt different.
Quieter. Heavier. Like the entire place was holding its breath.
You hadn't moved much.
The curtains stayed drawn. The fire burned low. The bed - that bed - was the only place you could bear to be, even though every inch of it ached with memory.
You hadn't meant to stop eating.
It just happened.
The thought of it felt distant. Unnecessary. Like your body had forgotten how.
All you could feel was the hollow ache.
Rhysand.
Everything circled back to him.
His voice. His eyes. The way he'd looked at you when he said it.
I found my mate.
It echoed, over and over.
Until it didn't even feel real anymore.
Just something that had cracked through you and left everything splintered behind.
You didn't notice when the wards on your room shifted.
Didn't feel the telltale ripple of power.
But suddenly-
He was there.
Your name brokenly whispered into the dim and stale air of the room.
The words are quiet. Rough. Not the voice of a High Lord.
You don't turn.
You don't have the strength.
But your traitorous body reacts anyway - something deep and instinctive, recognising him before your mind could catch up.
"I know I'm the last person you want to see right now," Rhys says softly. "I know I shouldn't be here."
A pause.
His voice breaks again, just slightly.
"But I can't watch you do this to yourself."
The bed dips behind you.
Careful. Tentative.
Giving you the space and the time to scream at him.
You couldn't.
It had been days.
Days without him, only just after getting him back. Days since the hope for the future was cruelly ripped away from you by the Cauldron-damned-Mother - the same one you had prayed to for his safe return.
Days without anything steady. Without anything but pain.
And even now - even after everything - your body remembers.
His hand hovers for a moment over your arm.
Not touching. Just waiting.
When you don't pull away, he closes the distance.
The moment his arms wrap around you - you break.
A sound tore out of you before you could stop it.
Raw. Shattered. Heartbroken.
Everything you'd been holding in for days collapsing all at once in the arms of the male who had inadvertently caused the damage.
Rhys pulled you closer instantly, like instinct, like he'd been waiting for permission he never should have needed.
"I've got you," he whispered, voice cracking. "I've got you-"
You clutched him.
Weak, trembling, knowing you shouldn't as it would just make it harder to let go, but you were desperate.
Like if you let go, you'd fall apart completely.
He was the only thing you wanted, but the only thing you couldn't have.
"It hurts," you sobbed into his chest, the words barely coherent. "It-Rhys, it hurts so much-"
"I know," he breathed, pressing his face into your hair. "I know, I know-"
And the horrific thing was that he did understand.
His mate, was in love with someone else - was marrying someone else.
But, that made the whole situation sickeningly worse.
"I didn't mean for this," he whispered, his grip tightening like he could hold you together with sheer strength alone. "I never wanted to hurt you-"
"That does-doesn't me-mean, you did-didn't," you cry so hard, you're unable to even form a proper sentence.
Rhys hears you loud and clear though.
"I know," he says again, and this time there was no defence. No explanation. Just grief. "I'm so sorry."
Your hands fisted in his shirt, tears soaking through the fabric.
"I don't know how to-" your voice breaks completely. "I don't know how to do this-"
I don't know how to live without the hope of you returning to me.
I don't know how to be alone again.
That broke him.
You felt it.
The way his breath hitched. The way his arms tightened around you like he was barely holding himself together.
"You won't be alone," he said hoarsely. "I won't let you-"
"But you're not mine anymore," you whisper.
Silence. Heavy. Devastating.
His forehead presses against yours.
You felt it then-
The dampness.
He was crying too.
"I still love you," he said, voice rough. "That hasn't changed. It won't ever change."
It was the wrong thing to say, but it was the only thing he could say.
Because it didn't fix anything.
Didn't undo the bond. Didn't put you back to where you used to be.
But it was true.
You knew it deep within your soul it was true.
And somehow, that hurt almost as much.
Knowing that despite how deeply you loved each other, it wasn't enough anymore.
Things had changed. You both had changed.
You buried your face into his chest again, sobbing harder now, your body shaking with it.
He held you through it, crying with you.
He didn't try to quiet you. Didn't try and fix it.
He just stayed.
"I'm here," he murmured over and over, pressing broken apologies into your hair. "I'm here, I'm here-"
Time blurred.
You didn't know how long you laid like that, holding each other, crying.
Eventually, the sobs softened and faded into quiet, shaky breaths.
Your body gave in, exhausted.
Rhys shifted slightly, easing you more comfortably against him, one hand still cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped tight around you like he was afraid you'd disappear.
You were barely conscious when you felt it-
The soft brush of his lips against your hair.
"I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I love you."
This time, you didn't answer.
You let sleep take you like a tide pulling you under.
Heavy and unavoidable.
And for the first time in days-
You weren't alone in your grief.
Rhys grieved with you.
He didn't move, or loosen his hold, even as sleep dragged at him too, exhaustion finally winning out.
He stayed exactly where he was, curled around you, holding you like something fragile.
Something precious.
Like something he had lost, but couldn't quite let go of just yet.
What came after wasn't a single moment.
It wasn't a clear turning point where everything softened and made sense again.
It was slow and messy.
And really fucking hard.
The days that followed blurred together in quiet, careful pieces.
You weren't alone, just as Rhys promised.
Someone was always there.
Mor, who didn't ask questions you couldn't answer, just sat beside you and talked about anything and everything until the silence didn't feel so heavy.
Cassian, who hovered in the doorway at first like he didn't quite know how to approach something so fragile - until he did what he always did best: stayed. Loud when you needed distraction, quiet when you didn't.
And Azriel-
Azriel, who said very little, but whose presence was constant. Steady. Unmoving. If it wasn't him, it was his shadows instead.
They didn't try to fix you.
They didn't rush you.
They just...held the line while you found your footing again.
Rhys kept his distance.
Not completely, but enough.
You felt him sometimes.
He gave you space, because you needed it.
But you still saw him out of the corner of your eye.
And that was its own kind of ache.
Because Rhys wasn't untouched by this either.
But despite the steps forward you made, there was still the lingering presence and ache of grief.
You never thought you could grieve for someone who was still here. Living in the same bloody house of all places.
Feyre Cursebreaker.
Her name lingered in the air more often now.
In whispered conversations. In plans. In things that were coming.
A future.
You told yourself you were strong enough to bear it.
You told yourself you could be something else now and not shackled by the absence of a male.
But strength had its limits.
The day he brought her to the Night Court-
Something inside you quietly gave way.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't a breaking point. There were no tears.
But you just knew - I can't do this.
You packed lightly. Not much, just what you needed.
You told yourself you weren't running, you were just leaving for a while.
You needed more space, you needed something new. An environment where every room didn't remind you of what you had and what you had now lost.
The decision felt calm, like something settled deep in your bones, and you knew it was right.
You didn't make it far.
"Please don't."
Azriel's voice cut through the stillness behind you.
Low. Tight.
You stopped, closing your eyes briefly before turning.
He stood a few steps away, shadows restless around him, something uncharacteristically raw in his expression.
"You're leaving," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"Just for a little while," you answered softly.
His jaw tightened. "That's not what it feels like."
You give him a small, tired smile. "I just need some space."
"We gave you space," he said. "We're still giving you space."
"I know."
"Then why-"
"Because this is different," you said, voice still gentle, but firm. "This isn't about healing anymore. It's about..staying somewhere that hurts too much to breathe properly."
That landed.
He went still.
"It's because she's here, isn't it?"
You instinctively flinched. Azriel's expression turned thunderous.
"I-We need you here," he said quietly.
Your chest tightened.
"And I need to be move on," you replied.
Silence stretched.
Azriel opened his mouth to say something-
Then-
A ripple of power.
You felt him before you saw him.
Rhys.
He appeared a few steps away, like he'd come too fast, too urgently to both with anything resembling composure.
His eyes went straight to the bag in your hand.
And something in him shattered.
"You're leaving?"
It wasn't anger. It wasn't even an accusation.
It was fear, bare and unguarded.
Azriel stepped forward immediately, positioning himself slightly in front of you.
"What did you expect?" He said sharply. "You break her heart and think she'll just stay and watch-"
"Az," you said softly.
He didn't stop. "She's been holding herself together for you, and now you bring her here-"
"Azriel."
He stilled, breathing hard. You had stepped forward, placing a hand lightly on his arm.
"It's okay," you murmured.
His gaze searched yours, like he didn't believe you.
"Give us a minute?" You asked gently.
He hesitated, then nodded once. Sharp and reluctantly.
When he left, the space he vacated felt too open.
Rhys didn't move closer.
"Tell me this isn't goodbye," he said quietly.
Your throat tightened.
"It's not," you said. "I just...need some distance."
"From me?"
You couldn't lie to him.
"...Yes."
He swallowed, hard.
"I can give you that here," he said. "You don't have to leave the Night Court."
You looked at him then, really looked at him.
He meant it, every word.
You knew he did. You know he would move the stars for you if you asked him.
But you couldn't help the incredulous look you shot him. "You know that's not true, not whilst she's here."
You weren't cruel. You were just stating the truth. You weren't his priority anymore.
It was Rhys's turn to flinch now.
"I was thinking of going to the Day Court," you said carefully. "With Helion. Just for a little while."
Something flickered in his expression.
"You'd be safer here," he said.
You smile softly at him.
"I can make sure you don't have to see-"
"Rhys."
He stopped.
"You can't reshape the entire court around me," you said softly. "And I don't want you to."
A pause. Then quieter-
"I need somewhere that isn't filled with...memories."
That hit. You saw it.
His voice dropped. "You're part of this court. You always will be."
"And I'm not trying to take that away," you said. "But right now, staying feels like...standing in the way whilst everything else moves on."
Understanding settles between you, whether either of you like it or not.
"I don't want to lose you," he admits quietly.
You smile faintly.
"You won't."
You stepped closer then - willingly putting yourself closer to him than you had in weeks.
"I just need time," you said.
This wasn't goodbye, but it did feel like a chapter closing.
Rhys's eyes flicker closed as you reach up and gently cupped his cheek.
"I don’t think you were ever mine to love, no matter how much I had hoped you would be," you whisper.
You swipe your thumb under his eye as a single tear rolls down his cheek.
"It's okay," you say. "It'll be okay."
Rhys nodded slowly. Like it cost him something.
"...then take as long as you need," he said.
And this time-
He didn't try to stop you.
Not because he didn't want to, but because finally he began to understand that loving you meant letting go of you a little.
