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@wickedfelinaxo
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I primarily use this account to engage with others and reblog my favs, if you’re so inclined to do so, you can read my ACOTAR fics at @thisblogisaboutabook
Masterlist
Sticky Spider’s Web
Spider!elain x reader
For the first day of @sjmsapphic 😋 v. happy to share spider!Elain with you guysss 🧡🧡👩❤️💋👩
a/n: pleaseeee women and monsters pleasseeee 🙏 alsooo this is one of those fics where everything conveniently works out in the end 😌 no crit and enjoy ur wlw monster smuttt with love 🧡🫶
synopsis: having heard tales of a creature in the woods alleged able to grant wishes, you venture deep into the forest. But when a patch of rich, rain-soaked moss causes you to plummet from your height, only to be caught in the sticky, springy web of the very creature you seek, you’re unsure whether your luck is unbelievable, or run out entirely.
warnings: spider!elain who has female and male genitalia; teratophilia/monsterfucking; web bondage; mild sex pollen(?) from the oral (elain receiving); p in v; squirting; blood/biting; veryyyyy brief ovipositor stuff; heights
word count: 4,008
~~~~
You struggle upon the web, facing upwards, the back of your forearms stuck to the sticky strings that had cushioned your fall, preventing you from cracking open your skull on the forest floor far below.
It’s no use—you can’t even lift your skin from the web, let alone the rest of your body.
You’d been climbing in search of the creature that’s rumoured to inhabit these large trees, trees that grow far wider and taller than any of the non-magical variety. The great spider is rumoured to live only in the highest peaks of trees, spinning its web between the thick trunks, string sturdy enough to snare even the largest of birds. If only it hadn’t started raining. If only you’d been sensible and resisted the drive of your curiosity and waited until it was safe. Waited until the moss wasn’t slick underfoot; waited until the damp mists had retreated.
But you had not.
And now you’re here. Snared, trapped, and freezing cold.
A shape dangles above, blocking the light rainy mist still falling from the clouds, and you stare in awe as the creature slides down from between the heavy-leafed branches. Silky coils of straw-coloured hair obscure the creature’s face, but it’s easy to make out the elegant shape of a naked, female torso growing out of the spider’s dark, furred body.
You flush as she settles her eight legs around you, bending down to seemingly…examine you. Pale hands reach out, fingers touching the hot skin of your cheeks, and they’re…sticky. Damp. Seemingly toying with the cloth of your collar, palms exploring and they push and prod further down your body. You squeak when her right palm presses over your breast, and her dark, misty eyes flick upwards, body stiffening in the way only a mythical creature’s can.
“You’re a human,” she whispers, close enough you’ve no trouble hearing her.
You stare—long, thick lashes shape her eyes, a soft nose not far out from the rest of her features, a rosey mouth containing sharp, biting teeth. A pink tongue that swipes across her lower lip.
“What’s a human doing in my web?” She whispers, almost to herself, cloudy eyes flickering about, brows furrowing as if she’s struggling to figure you out. A web this high up tells you her intended prey isn’t humans, at least.
“Your kind rarely ventures so deep into these woods—surely you know it’s dangerous out here?” She questions.
You flush. “I…I do…”
“Then why are you here?”
You bite the inside of your lip. “I was looking for you. I heard you could grant wishes.”
The spider pauses, lips parted as her hands slowly retract from your clothing. Then she blinks, hair tickling your cheek as she shakes her head, “wherever did you hear that?”
“It was a rumour running through my village,” you hurry to explain, hearing how foolish you sound. “And I…I wanted to know if it was true…” you trail off, peering up at the great spider, taking her in now that she’s not immediately draining you of blood.
Her torso is much the same as your own, the differences pronouncing themselves the further south your eyes travel. Her hips join the to abdominal section of the spider covered in a thick coat of dark fur speckled through with white. The dots are greater in number closer to her bare skin, fading away the further they travel, and each of her legs is pitch black.
“You risked a great deal in venturing so far out…what would you have done if I were something vicious?” She asks, brows furrowing, not out of suspicion, but you realise from worry.
“I…I was told creatures like you don’t generally prefer to eat humans. You certainly wouldn’t spin your webs so high if that were the case,” you reply, still somewhat breathless from such close proximity.
The spider pauses, her dark, cloudy eyes scanning your features. “It’s true we don’t often dine on humans…but not because we don’t like the taste of you.”
Your throat rolls, trying to shift in her web but you’re held fast. “Then…then why not?” You ask, unsure if you really want to hear the answer. Maybe this wasn’t a smart choice.
“You’re pack animals. You live together, while my kind is solitary,” the creature explains. “I could manage a few of you on my own, but if I stole one of you directly from a town or even a village I would be chased from my home.” Her tone is sincere, but there’s something slightly predatory growing in her dark eyes.
Her pink tongue swipes across her lower lip, and her fangs gleam a poisonous pale blue in the dimming light.
“Besides, you creatures learned to wield fire.” She shudders, and you suddenly wish you brought your flint stones. Though you suppose nothing would even catch, now that the rain has so thoroughly soaked these woods.
“So you-…” You swallow, fear slithering in your gut. Stupid, so stupid to venture out for the sake of your curiosity. “Are you going to eat me?” You whisper, voice hoarse.
Her dark eyes flit about your face, and she leans closer, sticky palms taking a hold of the web you’re tacked to. Her gaze drifts lower, and she pinches the collar of your shirt, rubbing the wet linen between her fingers.
Shit.
She’s going to pull the linen back and take a drink from your throat.
She doesn’t even need to wrap you up in one of those silky cocoons—you’re practically immobile.
“You’re clothes are very wet,” she says instead. “Are you cold?”
You peer at her, heart hammering in your chest. Her nostrils flare, and you shift, wishing you could at least rearrange the position of your limbs to be closer to your body. “A little…” you whisper.
She hums after a moment, eyes shifting, and tension gathers in your stomach, lacing your legs with restless, frenetic energy. “You’ll probably fall and injure yourself if you try to get back down now that it’s rained.” And now that the light is beginning to fade.
You should have waited until tomorrow; set out early in the morning so as to not have wasted so much daylight.
Wholly black eyes lock with your own, and a shiver spider walks down your spine.
“I could take you down, if you like?” She offers. “It would be much safer, and there’d be no risk of injuring yourself.”
Fear concentrates in your bloodstream. “…For what?” You whisper, hardly a breath.
The spider shifts uneasily above you. Looking away for a little. “Just a small bite…”
“‘A small bite’…?” You echo, fainter than before.
“It would be much safer, if you went with me…” She repeats, peering at you intently. “And it wouldn’t be painful for you either. My bite, I mean. I’d prepare you properly.”
“Prepare me?” You gasp, staring at her wide-eyed. “What do you mean prepare me?”
Subconsciously you try to wriggle free of the stickiness, but her palms shift from the web to rest tentatively on your shoulders. Trailing her soft fingers to the collar of your shirt. “It varies creature to creature,” she murmurs—is it your imagination or are her fangs more pronounced? More saliva in her mouth?—circling a button on your shirt. Her gums are lapis-blue, you realise, close enough to see where her fangs stick in her mouth.
“I’m not fond of fear,” the creature whispers, “…it’s too acrid. Too…sour.”
“So…you’d-…relax me?” You ask, trembling beneath her.
She nods.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think I’ll be able to relax anytime soon,” you breathe, half laughing, have stammering with terror. A shaky smile trembles on your mouth.
The spider smiles, but there’s a growing hunger in her eyes. “I’ll manage that,” she whispers, her voice softening to a silky whisper. For some reason you flush at her tone, scanning her features with a little less fear than before.
“…how?”
Black eyes briefly dip to the skin of your throat before returning to your own. “Human blood…” she begins, seeming a bit dazed, “human blood… Humans release…” She swallows. She seems to be having some difficulty. Maybe she’s growing tired…? “Your blood is more…flavourful…after experiencing a high of some kind.”
“A…” you wet your lips, “a high…?” She nods her head, humming faintly in confirmation.
“I can… If I secrete some oils… I’ve heard it’s similar to the feeling of fatigue. Lethargic, and warm…not entirely dissimilar to being tipsy…” The pale skin of her cheeks has taken on a slight flush. She looks warm, and soft.
“It won’t…” you hesitate, unsure of yourself. “It won’t hurt?”
“No,” she assures, in that sweet, lulling voice of hers. “You’ll…you’ll feel good. You’ll like it,” she whispers, “I promise I’ll make you like it.”
The words send warning bells ringing dimly somewhere in the back of your head, but she’s cupping your face now, so close, and from this proximity you can hardly see her spider’s body anyway, so it’s basically the same as kissing a woman…
‘Kissing? She didn’t say anything about kissing.’
You should pull yourself together.
“And you’ll…you promise you’ll help me down after?” You mumble, unable to look away from her.
She nods, “if that’s what you want once we’re done.”
You swallow. She’s so close.
“Are we agreed?” She asks, swiping her thumb across the high of your cheek.
You almost nod your head, but a moment of clarity finds you. “What’s…do you have a name?” You ask.
The spider blinks, eyes trailing across your features. “Elain,” she murmurs, “you can call out for Elain.”
You flush, but swallow, giving a nod of your head. “Elain,” you repeat, trying the name out on your tongue.
Dark eyes glisten, and her flush deepens, “that’s right.”
“So…you mentioned oils…?” You mumble, peering at the slight gleam of her palms.
Elain swallows, gently detaching herself from your body, and a wave of cold washes down your front. Your clothes are still sodden, and it’s freezing so far up in the air.
“You’ll inhale them from my glands. It’s where my pheromones are produced.” She bites her rosey lip, eight legs shifting so she’s directly above you. “A few seconds should do the trick, but you should wait a few minutes just to be safe…” She trails off.
“Is there anything else?” You ask, sensing she’s holding something back.
Her throat rolls. “You can…ingest it too. If you like.” Her legs shift, fingers wringing together at her front. “It’s more concentrated if…if taken through the mouth.”
Something hot and syrupy stirs in your abdomen. Turning liquid and molten between your legs.
Her nostrils flare.
“And where…” you clear your throat, but your voice remains hoarse. “Where is- are. Where are these glands…?”
Colour tints her cheeks a lovely pink in the greyish mist, and her eight legs bunch together, brushing your sides as she lowers herself. Her fingers thread through your hair, and something aches between your legs. “I’ll show you…” she murmurs, guiding your mouth as she settles over you, “I’ll show you where you can lick.”
Dark fur is soft atop your mouth, spots of white speckling her skin, and as she rests the entirety of her weight over you, you can feel what seems like two sections of skin pushed together. The web itself stretches, pinned but not uncomfortable beneath her, and you recall her advice: it’ll be more concentrated if taken through the mouth.
You make to part your lips, and the increase of saliva is immediately apparent. A scent seeps into your airways, filtering through your lungs and into your bloodstream. She’s intoxicating. Stirring a hunger deep inside of you.
She might as well be a human woman sat bare atop your mouth.
Your lips are ajar, and you tentatively swipe upward with your tongue.
Elain shivers, fingers tightening in your hair, pulling you closer by a fraction. She shifts her two frontmost legs, and the slit you had felt with your tongue parts, revealing a tender part of herself that seems so familiar to you, and yet she’s different.
You push your tongue out, and sure enough she parts further, speckled lips spreading and gleaming. Her entrance seems longer, extending slightly further upwards, and above is a small protrusion. Slowly, you trail your tongue up her centre, testing out her flavour.
Your mouth waters, and you wish more than ever that you could move. That you could at least press your legs together; that they weren’t kept open by the stickiness of her web.
“Do you like the taste?” She whispers, pulling you marginally closer by your hair. You manage a noise too close to a moan but…you don’t really care. She tastes so good. You want more of her. Want her scent to encompass you, seep into your clothes, seep into your skin.
Elain’s lips spread into a rosey smile, pressing herself against you. “I’m glad,” she breathes. “You can taste more…” She urges, “explore all you like…”
You don’t need encouraging. She’s already got such a firm hold on you.
You press your tongue flat against her, dragging upwards, collecting as much of her flavour as you can. She shudders when the hardened tip of your tongue presses over that small protrusion, and you find it…stiff. Not one to shy from your curiosity, you incline your head, exploring further, taking what you can only imagine is her clit into your mouth.
Elain gasps, and your thoughts are confirmed.
You take her clit further across your tongue, sealing your mouth over her to create a chamber of suction, tongue flicking and licking, tasting everywhere you can. Above you, Elain moans, nails scraping against your skin, rubbing forward and you feel her clit harden on your tongue, pushing forward, almost…growing?
That can’t be right.
Though what do you care right now?
You lick again up her centre, rewarded as you find her entrance practically dripping. Her flavour coats your tongue, and you return to her clit, hard and larger than before. You take her eagerly into your mouth, feeling as your underwear becomes wetter and wetter the longer she’s above you. Her clit stiffens, growing hot and engorged. You circle the base of it, about half an inch into your mouth, and Elain breathes heavily above you, sounds of pleasure spilling from her chest as she pushes to have more of your mouth covering her. Slick drips onto your chin, spilling onto your neck and you gently suction her clit deeper into your mouth.
Elain’s body shudders, her breath stuttering as she flutters wildly on your tongue. Arousal drips from her, and you’d be happy for her to cover you entirely. She’s irresistible.
She pants heavily, pulling away from you on trembling legs. A string of arousal connects your mouth to her cunt, and you swipe your tongue over your lips, pulling it into your mouth.
“Elain…” you mumble, peering at her. “Why…? Come back… I can… I can have more of you…?” You plead, toes curling as arousal seeps into your underwear.
She flushes, “I’m getting hungry…I want to taste you soon…and you’re almost ready…”
A whine slips from your throat, torn between wanting to taste her again and wanting your arms to be free so you can satisfy the growing ache between your own legs.
“Hold still,” Elain whispers, scuttling forward. “I’m going to peel you from my web. Don’t fall…” Oil slicks her palms, and you imagine each of her feet is similarly greased as she slides her limbs between your own and her web, unsticking you from her trap.
You try to obey and cling to her web so you don’t plummet down, but before you know it you’re being lifted into the air.
Through your sex-induced haze you can make out more web stuck to your hands, binding your wrists as you’re strung up into the air, Elain’s still-sticky palms steadying your swaying body.
You squirm, hot and panting and far too desperate to manage anything on your own.
“Elain…” You pant, needing her to do something. “Elain…!”
“It’s okay… I’m almost there… Just a little longer so you’re in the right position,” she soothes, though her fingers move with a hunger rivalling your own.
You whimper as she twines more web around each of your ankles, pleasantly stretching your body as she connects her ties elsewhere, spreading your legs even further apart.
You could cry.
Below you is the web you were previously lying on, and now-
You swallow.
You’re so far from the ground. Can hardly even see the bottom any longer.
“Elain…” you whine, “what…what are you doing?”
Your breath catches as six of her eight dark, furred legs position themselves upon her web, a pair of her middle two curling gently around your waist, offering you a place to rest your weight, relieving the strain on your wrists as she mounts you. You try to squirm and you manage a glance over your shoulder—something protrudes from the base of her swollen abdomen, almost similar to a bee’s stinger, except it’s thicker…speckled with black at its base and white near the tip, though that white swiftly darkens to pink…red…purple.
“Elain…! You’re not going to…?” You mumble, a flush heating your cheeks, cunt aching as you think of her slipping herself inside of you…
“You’re well prepared,” she breathes, those still-sticky palms of hers reaching below your arms to dip to the hem of your shirt, mouth beside your ear. “I can almost taste you in the air…how wet are you down here?”
Those pale blue fangs of hers nip at the shell of your ear, descending to tug on your lobe. Elegant fingers dip beneath the waist band of your skirt, and you feel at your back as she curves her lower body in half, swollen abdomen curling, clever spider legs shifting to pull your skirts up out of the way.
Her erection rubs against the hot, wet cotton between your thighs and you gasp, silently pleading for her to continue touching you…to continue exploring you… Why won’t she put her hands under your top? Or dip her fingers a little further into your underwear? You’d make such lovely noises for her…and maybe she’d like your taste too…
A spider leg dips beneath your skirts, and you squeak as the cotton tears, pulled clean off, allowing Elain to press herself closer, covering herself in the slick dripping from your entrance.
Besides your ear, Elain releases the sweetest moan, the flushed purple tip of her cock rubbing up and down over your entrance, occasionally bumping into your soft, sensitive clit.
“Are you ready?” Elain whispers, and you could cry for her. Could cry from how badly you want her.
“I’m ready,” you pant, “please…please, please, please…!”
She kisses your cheek, spider legs curling back around your body while her hands slip beneath your top, sticky palms covering your tender breasts with a relieving heat as her swollen abdomen pushes forward, slipping the thick length of herself inside.
Your toes curl, squirming, panting as she cups your breasts with tenderness and familiarity. Her fingers soothe back and forth against your hardened nipples, and moans won’t keep from falling from your mouth.
“Can I…Are you ready for me to move…or shall I wait?” She breathes, taking a deep inhale of your scent, her face pressing ticklishly into the crook of your neck and shoulder.
“Please move,” you beg, “you feel so good…please…”
Her cock pulls out of you, and you tighten around nothing, but then she’s easing her way back in, stuffing you full, and you can hardly keep yourself together. There’s a frenetic energy pulsing and simmering within your blood, static in your veins, like any second could be the last—you’re so close to toppling into that high.
Just a little more and you’ll be there.
“Elain…” You call out, squirming as her warmth radiates into you from behind, arousal flushing your front. “Do what you like,” you whisper, spine curving beneath her touch, “show me how…show me how you like it…”
Elain’s breath stutters, then she’s pulling back once more and driving herself into you.
Whimpers spill from your lips, her cock touching so deep, pressing up against those perfect, sensitive parts inside of you.
Heat boils and bubbles, arousal turning molten and syrupy in the pit of your body, and you fracture beneath the sheer weight of pleasure she’s pushing inside of you.
Noises flood your mouth, pleasure unlatching as you release around her—liquid dripping, falling far below—muscles tensing with the force of the high and you hardly register as she slips her fangs into your neck.
Your cunt flutters senselessly around her while she keeps her pace, driving in relentlessly, her own much greater body shuddering and twitching above you, furred, nimble legs pulsing as her concentration of strength lapses, and she spills inside of you.
Your head hangs, exhausted from the pleasure despite the aftershocks still thrumming through your body. Through your haze you spot a thick, pale liquid beginning to trickle down your thighs, release still emptying out of her and into you. So much you can’t take it all.
It’s a milky white…vaguely iridescent…and are those…? They look like tiny, gelatinous eggs.
You flush, able to feel how deep she’s spilling inside of you…how hot her release is, viscous and thick, warming you from within.
Her palms squeeze your breasts, and her tongue slithers over the puncture marks she’s made, sealing them before you’ve even registered the bite she took. All you notice is Elain’s mouth being more slippery than before, as though coated in a sheen of slick as she presses her lips to your cheek, trailing her way up to the top of your head.
“You were so well-behaved,” she murmurs, breathless, beside your ear. “You did so well… How are you feeling?”
If you’re honest: struggling to keep your eyes open. Your energy has been utterly depleted, and you’re running on empty. “…tired…”
“Hmmm? Shall I take you down now?” Elain whispers, fingers soothing across your breasts, easing you deeper into relaxation.
A whine builds in your throat but you manage to swallow it down.
The idea of still having to make it all the way back to your village now? It’s dark, and damp, and you’re in such a state. You don’t really want to manage that right now.
What a mess you’re in…
“You could…” Elain begins, trailing off.
Your ears prick, curiosity perking. “‘Could’…?”
Elain retracts from your cunt, leaving you cool and empty. Her legs shift, then the soft heat of her front is flushing your back. “I have a hollow further up in the tree. There would be plenty of room, and I could spin part of a cocoon for you…?”
Your lips part, trying to peer at her over your shoulder.
The web holding your ankles apart is cut, but she keeps a firm hold of your body as she turns you to face her, guiding your legs to curl around her hips as she severs the web around your wrists. Her arms wrap beneath your thighs, and you tangle your arms over her shoulders. “You wouldn’t…you won’t mind my company?” You ask, scanning her still-flushed features.
Elain shakes her head, and teeth prod at the interior of your lower lip. “That sounds…good…” you hedge, “it really wouldn’t be a bother?”
Dark eyes flit over your mouth. You swallow, inclining your head by a fraction.
She takes the opportunity, pressing her mouth to your own, bodies completely flush.
When she pulls away, her lips are curved at their edges. Rosey, tinted red. “Stay as long as you like…I don’t want you to leave.”
~~~~
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More from today's filming
Doctor Foster Season 3 🎥🎞️
"Brother's mace, most like... He's strong".
I will never be over this man 😭
You all, I made a theory video on another platform when SJM first made the new announcement and some people in this fandom are MEAN. Like I knew people got down and dirty regarding ships, but mine wasn’t even regarding that.
Save your cyber bullying for billionaires not little old me and my special interests. 😭😭😭
Don’t tell Azriel that I’m cheating on him with Jinu.
You belong with me. 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤
Letter on my site :)
“Reading isn’t political.”
Oh yeah? Then tell me why this administration has ruined billionaire romance and breeding kinks for me.
This is just a random little brain dump of my weird thought process.
I’m not super into the whole “Gwynriel” vs “Elriel” ship war. I just want everyone to end up happy.
However, I do find myself leaning toward Elriel and have often wondered why.
I’ve finally realized why. As a bisexual woman, I find Azriel and Gwyn to be individuals I’d want to be with in a relationship and Elain is the one I would want to “be”. So with Elain it’s almost like self-insertion. Elain ends up with Az? It’s like “I” end up with Az.
Gwyn ends up with Az? The two people I desire are together and I’m jealous! 🤣🥲
My biggest flex is predicting that Dain ship before Onyx Storm came out.
Bad Idea, Right? - Epilogue
Eris x Reader/Azriel’s daughter - Light angst - Fluff
A decade after the events of “Bad Idea, Right?” Eris and Y/N return to Velaris for Winter Solstice….. and Azalea goes on her first date.
Part 10 - Series Masterlist
10 years later
My eyes narrow as I look to him, “How are you so amiable to this?”
Eris shrugs- yes, shrugs- as if he’s as casual and irreverent as Uncle Rhys. “A few overgrown bats with snowballs are hardly the greatest obstacles of my lifetime. I think I’ll survive.”
I know he sees how skeptical I am but in true Eris fashion, he doesn’t borrow trouble as we stroll through the wintry streets of Velaris.
“You’re being suspect.”
“Oh, my little Spymaster,” he challenges, “shall you tie me up and interrogate me? I know how fond you are of eliciting both pain and pleasure.”
I can’t hide the slight upturn of my lips as I scoff, “Ever the masochist”
Eris only smirks. I know he thinks he’s won in diverting my attention but he hasn’t. Yet, I’ll let him off for now. I am the one who voluntold him to join in in this years snowball fight after all. Eight solstices we’ve spent together now, it was easy enough to reason that if he ever wanted me to “settle down” he’d have to join in on my families antics, however childish they may be.
What I didn’t expect was how easily he’d gone along with my orders to join them. It’s no secret in our relationship that Eris enjoys submission but that tends to be reserved for the bedroom, not in spending time with my family of busybodies.
I should be pleased by his agreeance but call it “spymaster’s intuition”, I’m not buying it. Perhaps I’ll send one of my shadows to referee.
Before we can make it up the drive Azalea is out the door with a beaning smile running toward us. She’s wearing a purple sweater and black skirt with stockings beneath. Her already long legs are further lengthened by chunky heeled black boots. My sister is gorgeous. She’s always been pretty, but she certainly has grown into her features and managed to snag the best of both mother and father’s genes. Her wings tuck in tight as if to combat the chill of the air.
Eris gets one look at her kohl lined eyes and glossy lips and looks to me with a raised brow, mouthing, “makeup?” As if the idea is absolutely abhorrent to him.
I roll my eyes. “She’s a teenager, deal with it.”
Now it’s Eris’ turn at skepticism, deep auburn-brown brows drawing together slightly. Good, let him be- actually, no, no skepticism. After all, Azalea is the entire reason I’m sending him to the snowball battle today.
“Guess what, Azzie?” I divert my attention to my younger sister. “Eris is going to participate in today’s snowball fight.”
“Yeah, I know.” She replies, fidgeting somewhat anxiously.
“Dad told you?” I ask, surprised my father would mention anything of it. He may have become accustomed to Eris’ presence over the years but to openly discuss his participation, whether welcomed or not, was…. Unexpected.
Azalea pauses for a moment before replying, “Mom did- helped her in the kitchen this morning- she’s packed an extra thermos of cocoa for him.”
A soft smile graces my lips at the thoughtful gesture from my mother and Azalea’s shoulders seem to slacken a bit at that.
Odd.
Before I can press further, father steps out the door, two insulated mugs of cocoa in hand as he stalks down the cobblestone path, stopping to pull me in for a hug and a kiss on the forehead and issue a greeting of, “Missed you, ornery.” before turning his gaze to my mate, looking him up and down with a scrutinizing glare. “That’s what you’re wearing?”
Eris dons a pair of weather appropriate boots, leather trousers, and an autumnal tan peacoat.
“Fucks sakes.” My father mutters before stalking back into the house and swiftly returning with a pair of lined Illyrian leathers - shoving the set into Eris’ hands with no further fuss and continuing down the drive.
Eris flashes me a smirk and pulls me into a warmth inducing kiss, triggering a dramatic gag from my sister before sauntering off after him.
I manage to catch an irreverant line from Eris about having fire in his blood and a gruff reply from my father about leaving his ass frozen in the Illyrian wilderness.
“He had them made for him you know.” Azalea’s voice cuts through my eavesdropping, reminding me that my younger sister is still here.
“He what?”
“Dad,” she gestures to the retreating forms of the unlikely pair, “the leathers, he had Emerie commission them for Eris.”
My heart squeezes. “When did he do that?”
“Years ago,” she shrugs, “Once he realized you two are truly happening and it wasn’t just a ‘screw you, dad!’ phase. He had them made in case Eris ever deign to join them for the snowball fight.”
Digesting the information, I can’t help the slight upturn of my lips, “I knew he liked him more than he let on.”
Azalea huffs “Like is a strong word, more like “begrudgingly doesn’t loathe him”
A chuckle escapes me and I realize how grateful I am for this brief one-on-one moment with my sister. “Why don’t we spend time like this together more often?”
Azalea loops her slender arm through mine as we walk along the snow covered path towards the house. “Because if we spend much more time together, items would begin missing from eachothers wardrobes.”
Raising my brow I take in her outfit. “Damn it, I knew that sweater you’re wearing looked familiar!”
———-
The house smells of warm bread and lavender, holiday preparation in full swing. Mother hurries over, fussing over me and taking my coat.
Ever the hostess, I know better than remind her that I’m perfectly capable of hanging up my own coat - thank you very much.
Mother pulls me into a hug and I melt into it, forgetting just how much a mother’s love can soothe the soul. I hope to provide the same sanctuary to my own children someday- but someday is NOT today. We’re immortal, there will be plenty of time for whatever karmic justice I have to face one day, after all the hell I put my own parents through.
And besides- I’m already stressed enough over my little sister, which leads me to the exact reason I sent Eris’ overprotective (and biteable) ass with my father and uncles today.
Azalea has her first date.
She looks to me, worrying her lower lip and I can tell something is bugging her.
“Alright, enough with the nervousness- what’s on your mind, kid?”
Azalea’s eyes roll so far back I’m shocked she can’t see the matter of her brain.
“I’m nearly an adult and it’s nothing. Just my first date, that’s all.” She lies poorly.
I give her my best “scary badass Shadowsinger” glare and she huffs, wholly unimpressed. Dad does it better and honestly, she’s never been affected by his stoic glares either.
Her wings droop slightly and she confesses, “I think Clara likes him.”
Oh- oh. That’s not good. Clara and Azalea have been best friends since they met at a solstice party in the Winter Court when they were ten. It’s now not uncommon for one or the other to be in each other’s respective courts during any given downtime.
“What makes you think that?” I ask, keeping my tone just north of pity, knowing pity will just close her off.
“She gets defensive when I talk about him, and defensive when he comes around. She told me she was going to ask someone to attend Starfall with her this year but soon after he asked me, she said she wasn’t asking anyone, that she wasn’t going… and she never misses Starfall!”
I see. “Perhaps it’s just a coincidence regarding Starfall and she’s still just a bit awkward around males.. not everyone is as forward as you are when it comes to communication.”
I earn yet another eye roll from her at my reference to the many times when she was a child with no filter that she disclosed any and all cringe worthy details of my personal life to any ear that would listen.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” I challenge.
She has the good sense not to disagree.
Sighing she plops down next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder.
“Are you at least a little bit excited for the date?” I ask, resting my cheek on top of her head.
“Yeah, I think so.” She sighs, sitting back upright. “I am. I just don’t want to date someone at the risk of my best friend, you know?”
“If something as inconsequential as a male can come between you two, I have no hope for friendships anywhere. You two are like burrs on a horses ass, inseparable.”
Azalea giggles at the ridiculous analogy that I’d picked up sometime over my years in the Autumn court, and it feels good to see the light return to her eyes.
“Go on your date, have fun. It’s just a date, it doesn’t have to be forever.” I advise as I guide her to her vanity, touching up a few flyaways and immediately regretting it because those little strands of chaos are so quintessentially her.
If someone were unable to look past those, they don’t deserve her.
———————
Gathered in the parlor, Azalea bounces her foot, waiting for her date to arrive. Mother and I watch with amused expressions as she waits.
“Thank the gods the guys are still at the cabin for the snowball fight. Dad’s bad enough as it is but could you imagine Eris? I guarantee you he’d be chomping at the bit to grill this kid with questions.”
Azalea doesn’t miss a beat as she fires back, “You’re one to talk. He’s only speaking from experience, gods knows what you two got up to on your dates. You two don’t exactly scream “modest intentions.”
“Azalea” mother scolds but there’s no real reprimanding behind it, in fact, her eyes dance with mirth.
My shadows however, dance with a bit of agitation.
A knock comes on the door and Azalea freezes.
“Is he here?” Mother questions, standing and heading to peer out the window.
Azalea only groans. “No…. It’s bad news though. Aunt Mor is here.”
I chuckle at Azalea’s disdain. Aunt Mor is somehow even more protective of Azalea than any of the males in her life.
I open the door as she steps in, exuding “cool aunt” energy. She brings me in for a big hug before rushing to Azalea and squeezing her impossibly tightly. Emerie enters behind her with an apologetic look speaking for itself, “I tried to stall her.”
Mor peppers Azalea with all the questions as Emerie takes a seat, knowing better than to intervene. She gives me a knowing look before musing at her wife’s questioning.
“Always searching for the truth, that one.” I mutter. Emerie knows better than to laugh but I don’t miss the mirth in her deep brown eyes.
Azalea is exasperated by the time her date shows up. I realize that until now, I haven’t even asked his name. Though I know it because Mor absolutely asked during her interrogation, three times to be exact.
I notice a figure stepping up the drive and can’t help but take pity on my little sister. Could I let karma take its course after all of the shenanigans the child- excuse me, teenager- put me through in her younger years? Yes. But today I relent… it is solstice after all. Happy holidays, enjoy the gift of peace, Azalea.
With a casual stretch I summon Azalea to the kitchen. “Hey sis, could you help me in here for a moment?”
Mor starts but Emerie, also taking pity on my sister and her suitor is quick to distract her in the best way she knows how. “Say, Elain,” Emerie clears her throat to ensure Mor is paying attention. “Where did you get those shoes- from that new boutique along the Sidra?”
Before my mother can get a word out, Mor is fawning over them- speculating where she’d acquired them.
Good gods, this woman and her shopping addiction. Thank the cauldron Uncle Rhys pays her so well. I’m fairly certain she and Amren’s contributions to the Velaris economy could fund half the city for a month, two if it’s close to the holidays and Mor is on a spree to find the worst possible gifts for those she loves most dearly. Last year she got me a pink pair of bunny slippers- though I begrudgingly admit, they were quite comfortable.
Azalea, cheeks still pink with embarrassment, joins me in the kitchen. “Quick, out the side door with you. He’s coming up the walk.”
Azalea looks to me with relief and gratitude that I’m not quite sure I deserve given that my shadows are practically vibrating with frustration that I won’t let them trail after her.
“Have fun, stay safe, and be home before the males get home from the snowball fight. Eris is going to kill me if he finds out I sent him away just so you could go on a date in peace.”
Azalea nods, throwing on a jacket and hurrying out the kitchen before her date - Alex - arrives to the front door and can be ambushed by the females waiting behind it.
I hear a flutter of wings behind me, I don’t turn to look as a slight figure perches on my shoulder and a small voice proclaims with a sigh, “they grow up so quickly.”
“Flori” I greet the little sprite. Years ago, Eris had pulled some strings to arrange the visitation of a sprite to Azalea’s “sprite garden” - little did he know, Azzie would find her fiercest defender and one of the best of friends in the sprite - who may or may not have become one of my spies. Sprites are notoriously incurably nosey with a love for gossip, making the vivacious little fae quite the asset.
“Do I send a shadow after her?” I ask, toeing the line of giving my little sister freedom and wanting her to be safe.
Flori simply preens “Already vetted him. She’s in good hands.”
I make a mental note to give the sprite a raise.
————————————
“She’s WHAT?” Eris blurts as soon as the words “Azalea” and “date” leave my mouth. He’d managed to make it out of the Snowball fight alive and despite his impassive behavior…. I think he might have had fun.
“Cauldron, say it a little louder, Eris. I don’t think the folks on the continent heard you.”
Eris smacks my ass, whispering with a low timbre, sending a wave of heat straight to my core, “You’re going to regret this later, little shadow.”
I shiver at the show of dominance. It’s not every day that my mate shows his more dominant side… to me, at least. A thrill shoots through me at the promise for the most delicious of punishments later.
My dad enters the kitchen seeming unbothered regarding Azalea’s first date which is a bit surprising to both Eris and I.
“What are you two gaping at me for?” He asks, not bothering to look in our direction as he pours a drink.
You seem quite unbothered, I muse.
He gives a shrug. “What do I have to be bothered about? I won the snowball fight and the day has gone off without any hitches.”
I plan to leave well-enough alone but gods forbid Eris do the same. “So your youngest daughter went on her first date and you’re completely unbothered by it?
“Yup” he says before taking a swig of his whisky.
Eris, ever unable to resist baiting him looks to me and speaks in a low, honeyed tone, “I remember our first date, little shadow.”
Dad falters for only a millisecond before throwing back the rest of his drink, pointedly setting his glass down quite heavily, clanging on the counter and stalking out of the kitchen.
I raise a brow at my mate, “You couldn’t resist, could you?”
His Adam’s apple bobs and he chuckles, putting an arm around me and pulling me in close. “Your father’s annoyance is the second greatest gift I could get this holiday.”
“Second? What ever could be first?” I ask wryly.
He gives me a sultry look, reminding me of the punishment I have coming away.
I smack his shoulder and we head back in to join my family for the evening’s festivities.
———————
Solstice is in full swing and there are a couple of things that never change. One, Amren looks like she just robbed the local jewelry parlor as she showcases the gems she’d been gifted by the inner circle- aside from Mor who gifted her a purple scarf.
Emerie and my mate dance a strange dance of dominance and submission. Eris, who is indeed a fire-wielding High Lord with more self importance than he knows what to do with, out of some faction of guilt and understanding gives Emerie her distance.
Emerie, who up until recently has made her dislike of Eris well known- in that, “I’m-not-going-to-talk about-it-but-make-one-snide-comment-to-Mor-and-I’ll-cut-you” kind of way, keeps her distance from Eris but always ensures she’s between the two.
Yes, Eris and Mor reconcilied decades ago, before I had ever met Eris, but I get it. Emerie and Mor are mates and, wrongs against the other- whether truthful or perceived are hard to forgive when it comes to someone you’re mentally and biologically programmed to love and protect.
The front door opens and in walk Nyx, Aunt Feyre, and Uncle Rhys, closely followed by Aunt Nesta and a sulking Uncle Cassian who is clearly still disappointed that he didn’t win the snowball fight.
Nyx approaches Azalea with a “hey little cousin! Where’s your date?”
Azalea audibly groans but it’s too late. Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cassian both gape.
“Date??”
Azalea groans. “Damnit.”
“Language” mother warns.
“Y/N said ten times worse when she was my age!” Azalea argues but mom only pins her with that practiced motherly gaze that garners no room for argument.
Rhys and Cassian turn to my father waiting for a reaction but he only shrugs. “My daughter is old enough to go on a date, I trust her.” He doesn’t add that he’s the spy master and likely has a fifty page compendium on everything her date’s done since he could walk.
Cassian lets out a low whistle. “I never thought I’d see the day our brother wouldn’t be a brooding, overbearing mess over his youngest going on her first date.
Mor snorts. “You can thank Eris for his lackadaisical response. If he could handle those two,” she gestures broadly toward Eris and I. “he can handle about anything.”
She’s not wrong, I think to myself, my lips upturning slightly.
My father ignores the comment, simply placing an arm around mother and kissing the crown of her head.
Before Cassian or literally any of my aunts or uncles can mortify Azalea or irritate father further, the doorbell rings and Azalea perks up, hurrying toward the door before catching herself, and waiting for someone else to get it.
My shadows have reported who is here and my heart aches for my sister. Clara. Azalea’s best friend whom she believes has a thing for the male Azalea went on a date with tonight.
They’ve been thick as thieves for so long and it saddens me to see her hesitate instead of throwing her arms around her like she normally would.
The rest of the guests seem to feel the same as the heir to the winter court steps in, graceful as ever with her white hair wound into an elegant braid. Her piercing blue gaze takes in Azalea and the tension in the room is palpable, it doesn’t take the tense way my sister holds her wings to sense it.
I give a silent gesture to everyone to carry on as not to make this more awkward.
I can’t tell what the two say to eachother but they both hold themselves stiffly before Azalea nods towards her room, likely so they can resolve things without the biggest busybodies in Prythian hovering.
Eris squeezes my hand. “Care to take a walk my love?”
“Sure” I whisper, feeling a bit flushed from the wine I’d downed before the party.
My father’s hazel gaze tracks us with an unreadable expression as we walk out the door.
————-
As we stroll along the Sidra, I can’t help but smile. We’ve walked along this river countless times over the years but I can’t help remembering the chaotic night we’d gone on our first real date to Sevenda’s and to Aunt Feyre’s art gallery opening. A chaotic yet altogether unforgettable night. Despite the strife of it all, I wouldn’t change anything, because here we are now.
My shadows float around us, as if they too enjoy the night’s breeze. Eris’ heat keeping us just warm enough.
“You’ve served our court quite well little shadow.” Eris speaks, his voice low and Ernest, his lips tilt upward as a shadow winds around his forearm down his wrist, and weaves through his long fingers.
“You have too.” He muses to the shadow. And it’s true, my shadows have made my spymaster skills a valuable asset to the Autumn Court, though Eris has never viewed them as a tool but as an extension of me, of the female he loves.
“It’s an honor to serve your court.” I speak truthfully.
He smirks. “You can lie to yourself by saying it’s mine… but it’s ours.” Before I can object or deflect, he continues, “And I’m the High Lord, as an individual in my employ, you must abide by my law. And I declare that it’s our court.”
I roll my eyes but my stomach flutters. I’ve fallen in love with the Autumn Court and learned how wonderful many of its people are over the years. An “autumnal wasteland”, I’d once called it. And yet, it feels like home now.
“You know-“ Eris continues, fidgeting slightly. Something so unlike him. “Do you remember that night all those years ago, when your sister caught us in that deliciously compromising position on the balcony- and your mother had that vision?” He asks with a hint of vulnerability in his amber eyes.
My brows knit, unsure where this is going. “The burning flame drives away the wild shadow.” I recite, remembering the night clearly. “Eris- what does this have to do with anything? She said herself that her visions don’t always mean anything significant. We’re happy and I don’t plan to leave you anytime soon.”
Eris shakes his head, resting a warm hand on my shoulder, I meet his gaze defiantly. “Look at you. I hope you never lose that spark… that fire burning within you.”
I scoff looking down, trying to hide the feeling of uncertainty in myself.
“Is the Autumn court your home, little one?” He asks, his thumb and forefinger gently clasping my chin and tilting my face so my eyes meet his amber hued gaze.
I can see it, the desperation in his eyes and I cannot give him anything but the truth. My heart races. “Yes.”
Something akin to relief slackens his features. “So, there it is. The burning flame, drove away you. My little wild, wonderful shadow out of the Night Court, to my home in the Autumn Court. To our home.”
Suddenly he spirits a square rectangular box of mahogany with autumn leaves and flames burned into it out of the pocket realm.
“Eris…”
His voice cracks with emotion and he holds up a finger, a silent plea with me to let him get his words out. “You have served our court well over the past ten years, little one, you have shown our people kindness and grace, and you treat the commoners with just as much dignity and respect as nobility- if not more. You have loved me well, far more than I likely deserve but I’m a selfish male when it comes to you and I’ve soaked up every ounce of love you’ve shown me. You are who I want to rule beside, who I want to keep waking up next to every morning. You are the one I would be honored to lead our court with. Please, my mate, do me the honor of fully accepting our bond and becoming my High Lady.”
He opens the box to which a golden ringlet crown of leaves and flame rests beside a ring with a matching band, and a gem that matches the amber stoned necklace he’d gotten me before I even knew we were mates.
All words escape me. It’s not that he hasn’t hinted at having me rule with him someday over the years but he also has recognized that I’m young, that I had personal growth to achieve that was important to myself and yes- recently, I have felt that I’m there. That I could do this, but I’d never said it. My mate has waited patiently, observed in silence, until he could sense I was ready. How could I deny him?
“Yes, Eris. It would be a privilege to be your High Lady, and an even greater privilege to be yours forever.”
He closes the box and spirits it away for now. I’ll wear the ring after I’ve offered him food and consummated the bond, and after we’ve seen a priestess to swear my vows to both him and the crown.
Gods, as if our sex life needs a mating frenzy when we can’t keep our hands off each other as is.
Eris’ eyes water and he pulls me into his warm embrace, a hug that I feel deep in my soul. He kisses the top of my head as I rest my cheek against his chest, listening to his heart thud.
We stand like that for some time before his eyes, so full of devotion, peer into mine, reading me like a book and loving everything he sees. “I love you.” He speaks gruffly.
“I love you too.” I whisper, my voice soft and sincere.
I crash my lips into his and we get lost in eachother.
———————————
When we return to the townhouse and slip out of our coats, I look up to see the family drinking and talking merrily. My father and mother both look to Eris and I. My mother smiles knowingly and father raises a brow. Eris gives him a nod and father raises his glass in silent congratulations. My lips part and I look to Eris.
Eris only flashes his patent smirk. “You may have sent me to the snowball fight with an agenda of your own, but I had one too.”
“You asked his permission?”
“Don’t give me that look, High Lady, I would have asked you regardless. I am a High Lord and can do what I want anyway.”
I just shake my head but my lips curl upward. “You’ll pay for your insolence, High Lord.” I whisper huskily.
Chill bumps rise up his arm but he stays strong. “Oh no, I’ll be punishing you for hiding the news of Azalea’s date from me first. I haven’t forgotten that.”
I look around and see she’s still not rejoined the family. “C’mon, I want to tell her before everyone else.”
Selfishly, I also want to ensure that things are smoothed out between her and Clara.
We head upstairs and I knock on her bedroom door with no answer. “Azalea?” I ask and knock again with no answer. It’s not like her to not answer the door and I don’t hear anything inside. It’s early for her to be asleep and I worry that she and Clara got into a bigger disagreement and Clara left. The thought of Azalea crying herself to sleep tears me apart.
Concern overrides my situational assessment and I turn the handle a moment too late to heed Eris’ sudden warning of “sound ward”.
I gape as the daughter of the Winter Court straddles my little sister’s lap, the two locked in a tangle of tongues and teeth.
“Well, well, well,” I muse at the sight as flashes of the night she’d outed Eris and I’s relationship a decade ago cross my mind. “How things have come full circle.”
“Don’t worry sis, your secret is safe with me.”
———————————————
A/N: Thank you all for reading this fic! I can’t believe it’s done. I hope you enjoyed getting a little peek into everyone’s life years down the road from the main fic. I appreciate each and every one of you who have taken the time to read!
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Xaden 🤝 Aelin
Chocolate Cake
Azriel core
Xaden is that you????
ARCANE IS MY ENTIRE PERSONALITY AT THE MOMENT AND I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE
Couldn’t resist showing off my new Ruby Dixon book. It’s so pretty and I can’t wait to read it!
