Rhysand - Blog Posts

Friendly Reminder

Sjm was gonna write a threesome(nesta, cassian, azriel) scene in acosf.

and the freaking high lady of night court as if this already doesn’t say enough!!

Feyre is an icon, a queen, a bad bitch, a warrior, a protector, a provider, a mother, she is everything. if you think otherwise then you’re an idiot. sorry i dont make the rules

me: i hate cliches.

author: and that night in each others arms neither one of them had nightmares

me: oh my god they didnt have nightmares in each others arms *visible sobs*

fuck you my child is completely fine...

your child want a fae male to bite them.

i love how we all collectively decided it was okay to love faerie porn.

i really dont get the fact why a woman cant be a feminist and be head over heels in love and sometimes do things only motivated by that love and rely on that love during difficult times.

i miss my lil innocent azriel

and the lucien and Jesminda story

ACOTAR Spinoffs I NEED:

-How Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, & Morrigan Met

-Amren origin story (What is she?)

-Story set in the Day Court (Hellion my BB)

-Origin Story of the Fae Courts forming

idk but this song gives me nessian vibes

i started reading crescent city and was warned that it will hurt and i thought how bad can it be(comparing tog and acotar).

And let me tell you IT WAS WORSE.

i swear sjm wants us to die!

I just realised that aelin will see Dorian and chaol die of old age.

HOW DO I GO BACK!!

Rowan Whitethorn: Where is Aelin? Where is my wife?

Cardan Greenbriar: This is my room. And that is my wife.

Reid Diggory: You are my wife now.

Thomas Cresswell: My best friend, the absolute love of my life, now until forevermore, I call you my wife.

Casteel Da’Neer: She is my wife.

Desmond Flynn: Years I have waited for this, anticipated it. My wife.

Rhysand: Though also calling you my wife sounds mighty appealing too.

Me:

sarah j maas doesn’t do redemption arcs.

she does “surprise, this character was secretly never bad” arcs

slay queen of justifying shitty behavior 👑

stay with me pt 2

<azriel shadowsinger x OFC>

warnings: mentions of trauma, physical harm, violence and gore(ish)

part one, part three, part four, part five

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Ophelia was only slightly hung over the next morning, thankfully. She was up early, earlier than normal. To be honest, she hadn’t slept at all. That moment she had shared with Azriel kept replaying in her head. Her thoughts kept tossing between she should have stayed and she should have pushed him off sooner. She had let it get too far and it didn’t go far enough.

She stared at her naked reflection in the full length body mirror. Ugly scars littered her body. Fae healing rarely left scars, but when they were severe enough they stayed. Madja had tried telling her that it was the scars of the mind that kept the scars of the body from healing, but she brushed her off.

The ones that had seen her naked had tried to ask, but when she felt their thoughts lingering too long, she was already out the door. Ophelia didn’t feel like sharing her traumas with strangers anyway.

As her eyes tracked up her body, they landed on the already fading purple and yellow marks that Azriel had left on her. These…these weren’t ugly. These were beautiful, these were made from him. Carefully, the pads of her fingers grazed one and instantly felt a rush of heat pool between her legs.

Gasping, she turned away from herself, shame dampening the rush of desire that took over her entire body. She was so stupid, so stupid that for a second she actually let herself believe that she could have someone. She had felt alive with Azriel holding her so close. It was like breathing the first breath of fresh air after being held under water too long.

Shoving those thoughts out of her head, Ophelia dressed herself. A simple black turtleneck with matching black pants. The turtleneck was the only clothing that would cover the marks Azriel had left. She didn’t need her busy body friends asking questions, if Cassian hadn’t already told everyone.

Rhys?

A moment later, she got a reply.

Phia? You’re up early.

She rolled her eyes at the invisible response. She did not have the energy to bicker with him this morning.

Could you come get me? I have some things I’d like to go over with you.

Can’t you have Cass or Az? I’m currently…indisposed.

Gagging to herself, she took a deep breath and pressed him harder.

Cassian has training with the priestesses, I don’t want to bother him.

Okay? What about Az?

Rhys!

Fine, fine. I’ll be there soon.

You better not smell like sex.

She could have sworn she heard laughter as Rhysand slammed the walls of his mind shut. She loved Rhys like a brother and now Feyre as a sister. When he came back from Under the Mountain rambling about how he had found his mate, she couldn’t have been happier. He deserved it, after all.

The day Rhys welcomed Ophelia into his court with open arms was both fuzzy and crystal clear in her mind. Her and Mor had found each other, both on the brink of death on the edges of the Autumn Courts forest. When she had thought they would both succumb to their wounds…there he was.

Azriel.

His shadows had swirled around them and it felt strange, but comforting. He held them both as they silently sobbed before winnowing back to Velaris.

But unlike Mor, Ophelia couldn’t remember a single thing before that moment. Rhys had tried, Madja had tried. But it was just blank. Sometimes she would get flashes, a warm sun, the smell of smoke, burnt oranges and brown, the bright flash of a knife as it flayed her skin open. But the only thing she did remember was her name.

Ophelia.

In those first few days, she said it to herself silently and allowed like a prayer. She had no idea who she was or where she came from, but she did have that. And nobody could take it from her.

It took her years to fully recover, and that was only physically. Mentally was another story. But there were more important things she had to deal with, so she pushed it down. Some days it felt like it would all come bubbling to the surface, her skin remembering the feeling of what it felt like to be shredded to bits, but her mind having no memory of it. It was its own brand of personal torture. Those days she took sleeping drafts and stayed in bed, not wanting her friends to see the madness that was brewing behind her eyes.

I’m here, where are you?

The sound of Rhys' voice jarred her from her thoughts, and Ophelia realized she had been pacing.

Come to my balcony, please.

I will if you tell me what’s wrong.

She didn’t reply, instead grabbing her bag and pulling it over her shoulders, and secured her daggers to her thighs. A moment later she heard the flapping of wings and the sound of boots thudding on her balcony.

Coming out, she squinted her eyes at Rhys. “You smell like sex.” She said, scrunching up her nose.

“Thank you.” Rhys smiled as he gathered her up in his arms. He didn’t speak again until they were almost to the River House.

“Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Not particularly.” Ophelia grumbled.

“I’m guessing it has to do something with Az?”

Ophelia jolted, whipping her head towards him. “How-”

“Cassian may have mentioned something last night about how he had caught you two, and you ran off and now Azriel is, well, I don’t know what Azriel is right now.”

Ophelia was silent for a moment longer.

“Did he do something-”

“No! Mother Rhys, no!” Ophelia gasped, shocked he would even think like that. “It’s me. I can’t-can’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He reassured her, as they touched down on the flat rooftop. “Trust me I understand, it’s just that I don’t think Az does.”

She took several steps away from him, distancing herself. Like she always does when someone got too close.

“Nothing he did was anything I didn’t want.” She told him, looking him in his violet eyes. Crossing her arms, she waited for some kind of scolding. She knew she hurt Azriel, and she also knew the boys were very protective of each other.

“I still think you should talk to him. Explain yourself instead of hiding.”

Sighing, she leaned her head back, looking up at the morning sky. “Enough about me, that’s not why I’m here.”

“I know, and the answer is already yes.”

Leaning in, she kissed her brother on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon, three days tops.”

Then, she winnowed. One moment she was in Velaris, her High Lord standing before her. The next, she was standing in a quiet forest, the burnt orange and red leaves swaying in the crisp breeze.

Ophelia always thought the Autumn Court was beautiful. There was just something about how the air permanently smelled like apples and the way the fallen leaves crunched underneath her boots. But the people here? She hated them more than anything.

Normally, it was Azriel and her that came on these missions. Scouting out Beron and his Court seemed like a full time job, lately. There were constant meetings being held inside his castle, troops moving about on the Spring Courts border.

It seemed like Beron had taken a page from the Human Queens book and completely warded his castle, Azriels shadows couldn’t even get it. So they were out here every couple of days, looking for the weak points.

But now, she couldn’t work with Azriel. Not without risking talking about what happened between them, what had changed. Mother, why weren’t males content with being only friends? But had they only just been friends? Az was softer to her than most, kinder and sweeter. He was one of the only ones that would check on her when she was having those types of days. She thought it was because of his own trauma, that he understood. But was it only just that?

The hairs on the back of Ophelia's neck prickled suddenly. Crouching low, she took stock of her surroundings. The landscape around her was empty, mostly forest and a couple farms. There wasn’t a lot in this part of the court. But that feeling lingered, almost like she was being watched.

A branch snapped behind her and she whirled, sending her dagger flying. She knew she hit her mark when someone whale in pain. Ophelia began to rapidly prepare her energy to winnow, but she wasn’t fast enough.

An arrow embedded itself deep into her shoulder, coming out the other end and pinning her against a nearby tree. Screaming internally, she tried to winnow again. But her powers just disappeared inside her. One moment they were there, beneath the surface of her skin, and then they were gone.

Fucking ash arrows.

“Look at this!” Someone laughed, off in the distance. “A whore from the Court of Nightmares!”

A small group of soldiers materialized out of the shadows of the trees. All had bows, and all were trained on her. Ophelia snarled, but her fight was draining. Too quickly it was draining. She didn’t recognize the males, except one. It was one of Eris’s brothers. As he drew closer, she saw that he held her dagger, which dripped with blood. He crouched down in front of her, a twisted grin spread across his face.

“You’re coming with me.” He snarled, before plunging the dagger into Ophelia's leg.

The burning world of gold and brown and red, all faded to black.

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taglist- @marvelouslovely-barnes

stay with me pt 1

<Azriel Shadowsinger x OFC>

short story of one of our favorite bat boys.

warnings: heavy alcohol consumption, mentions of trauma, light smut, 18+ MDNI!!!!

part two, part three, part four, part five

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The pulsing music at Rita’s felt like it was mimicking the rapid heartbeat in Ophiela’s chest. Every dip and sway that she was led into by strange males made her feel heady and dizzy. It felt like her feet barely touched the floor as she was spun into arm after arm, song after song. The three bottles of wine that her and Mor consumed before coming didn’t help either.

Like Nesta, dancing made her feel something. Less empty, less of a broken shell. Like the patterns she twirled into on the dance floor could somehow form the broken shards of herself back together.

From her place in the crowd she could spy her friends sitting at the permanently reserved table, playing a game of cards. All were focused on the current hand, throwing chips into the pile and cursing at each other. All except one pair of dark hazel eyes. He was almost invisible, tucked into the corner, his black leathers causing him to blend in even more. But beneath the swirling mass of darkness, Ophelia could see him.

Maybe that was one difference between her and Prythians most notorious spymaster. He was comfortable in the dark where no one could see him. But Ophelia was most comfortable under the blazing lights, where almost anyone could see her. Where she could paint a face was calm and happy, and no one would suspect a thing. They were almost exact opposites, but maybe that’s what attracted her to him.

Strong hands suddenly gripped her waist and she was being pulled against a hard chest, breaking her staring contest with the spymaster. The male laughed in her ear, saying something. But she wasn’t sure what he said, her head was swimming by this point. She danced with him for a bit before excusing herself and pushed her way through the churning bodies, making her way to the table.

Those hazel eyes were on her again, watching her hips sway to the music. Placing her hands on the table and leaning over, she shouted at them so they could hear.

“Does anyone mind taking me home?” Winnowing while drunk was a bad idea. She learned her lesson the hard way when she almost drowned in the Sidra. She didn’t want to end a few inches off from the balcony of the House of Wind and fall to her death. That would be embarrassing.

Feyra opened her mouth to speak but Azriel beat her to it, setting his cards down.

“I fold.” He told the table. “I’m ready to get out of here anyway.” He stood, his wings ruffling at the movement.

As the two made their way to the doors, Ophelia could have sworn she heard Cassian yelling that Az had a full house. There was no way he could have been on a cusp of winning for him to just walk out like that, Az was too competitive. She must have heard him wrong.

They walked out into the muggy summer night. It was scorching this time of year, the night time only a little more tolerable than the day. The light blue dress that Ophelia had on stuck to her in the most uncomfortable of places. It was a pretty dress, a little on the short side, but one that would now have to be thoroughly washed. It reeked of sweat and wine and unfamiliar males.

Azriel and Ophelia walked in silence for a bit, the sounds of distant parties and conversations being drowned out by the rushing water as they approached the bridge to the Sidra. She traced the amazingly carved detail with her fingers on the rails, before stopping and turning to look down at the water.

Azriel inhaled softly as if he were about to speak, but Ophelia cut him off.

“Did I tell you about the time I almost drowned in the Sidra?”

She glanced behind her to the Illyrian, whose stoic features wavered just slightly at her admission. Whatever he was about to say, she had stopped him. If she were being honest with herself, which was rare, she’d wish she had let him speak.

“Mor and I had a few too many glasses of Rhys aged wine,” She continued. “Didn’t think it would hit me that hard. When I tried to winnow home I landed face first into cold water. Sobered me up pretty quick.”

She turned around, gazing up into those damned hazel eyes. She expected to see some sort of amusement in his eyes, but all she found was worry.

“I could have taken you home that day.”

Ophelia shrugged. “Honestly, I think you were on a mission for Rhys. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bother you with my drunkenness.” She lifted her palms up to the sky, a smile twitching at her lips.

“I don’t mind your drunkenness.” That same smile creeping up on the corners of his own thick, lush lips.

Damnit.

Something had changed, shifted, between Ophelia and Azriel. For centuries, she had considered Azriel as a friend, a good friend. But almost three months ago, that had changed. She didn’t know what it was, or didn’t want to admit to herself what it was, but it happened. Az and her had been sparring early in the evening like usual. They were trying to perfect a new technique they thought of, when somehow Ophelia managed to knock Azriel on his ass.

He had stared up at her with such awe and bewilderment she thought he might have cracked his head open on the ground. When she helped him up his hands were clammy and hot, and he quickly excused himself from the session.

Ever since then, Azriel had been, well, nice. Not just the forced politeness she was used to when it came to the spymaster. He had been offering to help her, spending time with her scouting out the Autumn Court, which she knew he hated. It was strange, even Rhys admitted his brother's actions were strange.

Ophelia, snapping out of her thoughts, realized she had been staring far too long at Azriel. Clearing her throat, she looked away. She was glad it was hot out or else she felt like he might have called her out on the blush that was creeping across her cheeks.

“Do you mind?” She asked, lifting her arms out to him. “I’m ready for bed.”

Azriel nodded silently, and picked her up like she weighed less than a feather. She laid her head on his chest and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the feeling of her stomach to drop once he took flight. Hearing the leathery snap of his wings, the ground whooshed out from underneath them. She sucked in a breath as his wings caught the warm breeze, spreading them out behind him.

Velaris was always beautiful, but Ophelia was convinced it looked the most beautiful from above. She watched as the streaming lights grew distant as they flew farther away from the city. It made her heart hurt to watch it go.

They flew silently towards the House of Wind, the only sound of Azriel’s wings occasionally flapping. She looked over his shoulder, the thin membrane of his wings looked so silky. Ophelia knew how prized an Illyrian's wings were to them. They would rather be dead than be without their wings.

Still, they looked so smooth and soft. Tentatively, she reached a hand out and lightly ran her hand across the cool skin. She heard Azriel gasp, and they dipped in the sky.

“Shit!” She squawked, nails digging into his neck. “Sorry! I didn’t think-”

“If you don’t want me to drop you, sweetheart, I wouldn’t do that again.” Azriel grunted. Something had changed in his voice, it sounded gruffer. She was so caught up in what just happened she almost missed it.

He had called her sweetheart.

Azriel landed on the balcony without any more close calls. Though Ophelia supposed she was to blame for that. He set her down gently and she smoothed out her dress, making sure everything was covered.

“I need a drink.” She announced, but mostly for the house to hear.

“You had about three bottles of wine, four shots of vodka, and a beer. You need more?” Azriel said from behind her, humor laced in his tone.

“Well, looks like someone was counting.” She smirked to herself. “But no, I need tea. Care to join?”

Sauntering into the kitchen, she saw the house instantly set out another hot mug and she picked it up, handing it to Azriel. “It’s my secret blend.” She smiled, picking up her own mug. Taking a small sip, she sighed contentedly.

She hopped up on the counter watching as Azriel did the same. “Jasmine, lavender, and chamomile.” He offered. “With a hint of lemon.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes, smirking. “I suppose being a spymaster you have to know the differences between tastes. Wouldn’t want someone to be poisoned, now would you?”

“No, it’s just what you smell like.”

Ophelia’s heart skipped a beat. She stared down at her mug in her now trembling hands. Desperately, she tried to think of a witty come-back. Something to diffuse to tension that was quickly building in the kitchen. She heard the clink of his mug being set down on the counter, and the shuffle of his boots as he approached her.

“Phia,” Azriel whispered. “Look at me.” Inhaling sharply, she did just that. She felt his hands grab hers and set the mug down, his eyes never leaving hers. His eyes were alight with swirling colors, his pupils almost covering his entire iris.

“Az…” Before she could get another word out, his lips were on hers.

Gasping at the electric shock that started at the base of her skull, making its way down her tailbone, she shuddered. Did she shudder because of that or because of Azriel, Azriel was finally kissing her? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer right now.

He broke away from her after a long moment, resting his forehead on hers. He was panting, they were panting. This time when Azriel tried to speak, she was the one to cut him off. Her lips slotted over his, her slender arms wrapping around his neck pulling him closer.

They were a blur of gnashing teeth and tongues, their breathing turning almost frantic. Azriel’s rough hands gripped her hips, pulling her even closer to him. Instinct kicked in and Ophelia grabbed onto his waist with her legs. Nothing but a few scraps of clothing separated them now.

Wait.

Azriel bit down on her bottom lip, a quiet moan rippled from her mouth. He pulled away, but not going very far. He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then that spot right behind her ear. Ophelia moaned again, louder this time, arching into his touch.

She said she didn’t want this.

Azriel’s chuckled, his breath tickled against her overheating skin. He continued kissing down the length of her throat, and her hands found their way to his thick hair, tugging softly. Ophelia felt triumphant when he let out a moan of his own. Then, she was leaning farther and farther back so he could have easy access to her, gasping and moaning when he bit down just to soothe the sting with his tongue. His mouth was setting ablaze a burning path down her chest that she thought the coolest of waters couldn’t put out.

She wasn’t allowed to want this.

His hand came up to cup her breast through the material of her dress, his thick thumb swiping lazily over the peaked nipple. She was squirming now, her soaked core rutting ever so slightly against the very large bulge in his leathers. She wanted more, needed more. Needed to feel him in every way possible, to feel exactly what the honed muscles could do.

She shouldn’t want this.

Azriel finally pulled away from the assault he was levying against her front and his eyes found hers. “Sweetheart, do you-”

“Well it’s about damn time!” A voice boomed from down the hall.

Ophelia had never seen Azriel move so fast. One moment she was sprawled out on the counter top, the next Azriel had her behind his back, guarding her from being seen by Cass and Nesta, who had just caught them in a very compromising situation. A snarl she had never heard from Azriel ripped from his throat.

“Oh come now, Az! How many times have you walked in on me and Ness? It’s only fair I get you back.”

But she didn’t wait for Azriel’s reply, because she was already sprinting to her room.

She couldn’t want this.

yes PLEASE

baby wake up, new Rhysand art just dropped

🎨 by ignartcio

Night Triumphant and the Stars Eternal

🎨art by giannyfili on IG

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You know, I keep seeing headcanons that Lady Autumn and Helion are mates, but I would prefer if they weren't. That they just fell in love.

Especially if Lucien and Elain don't end up together. It would be a way for Lucien to see that it's okay to not have your mate, that you can still be happy. It would be a wake up for Rhys and Feyre a bit too, I think.

In The Middle Of The Night (Short)

Pairing: Rhys x singer!reader (f).  Summary: Rhys and reader are roommates and he has nightmares. Warnings: None. Word count: 424 A/N: Just in case you were wondering (you weren’t), the song I envision the reader singing is All Too Well by Taylor Swift (the 10 min version, obvi), but feel free to choose something else if that’s not you.

***

The nightmares didn’t stop. I had them every night without fail. I thought they’d get better with time, but it almost felt like they were getting worse.

I would always find myself awake multiple times a night. Sometimes, I’d pace around my room or fly around the city to clear my mind. Sometimes, I’d just go downstairs for some water.

On one of those nights, I happened to find (Y/N) asleep on the couch, surrounded by books. Her hair was in a messy braid and she was still in her day clothes. Her lips were slightly parted and her breaths were even. She looked so peaceful; beautiful. 

I gently took the half-closed book from her hands and marked her page, placing it on the coffee table. I pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch and covered her with it before going back upstairs. All thoughts of my previous nightmare had been replaced with (Y/N)’s angelic, sleeping face.

***

About a month later, I had a particularly bad nightmare. I found myself outside (Y/N)'s bedroom door, as I did every night occasionally to listen for her even breaths through the door and make sure she was okay.

Tonight, however, I heard nothing.

Not a single sound; no breaths. I ran a hand through my hair, pacing up and down the hallway and wondering whether or not I should go in. If she’s awake, she’ll think I’m creepy for coming into her room in the middle of the night, I thought. As I paced above the staircase, I heard… music playing very softly. It was really quiet, obviously magically muffled so not to disturb. It wasn’t coming from a tv or a radio; someone was playing the piano downstairs and singing.

Singing. The sound was so melodic; the most beautiful voice I’d ever heard in my existence. I sat down on the top step and leaned against the wall. I’d never heard the song before. It was sad, but it was so beautiful and poetic and I wished I could remember all the words.

My mind became hazy and my eyes grew heavy. I told myself I’d only close them until she finished her song, and then I’d go back into my room and rest.

For the first time since Under the Mountain, I fell into a dreamless sleep. The next thing I knew, it was morning and my neck hurt. I awoke in the same spot, sitting on the top stair.

With the throw blanket draped around me.

On the Roof

Pairings: I initially wrote this as an Az x reader but I think it accidentally came out as a Rhys x reader. Idrk, you figure it out🫠  Summary: Reader is Rhys’s mate, but is having a Nesta moment (thinking she’s not good enough for him). She flees Velaris and Azriel is sent to watch over her/convince her to come back. Warnings: Curse words, insecurities, angst. Word count: 737

***

“What are you doing?”

The shadowsinger whorled around at the sound of your voice. Part of him was amazed; it wasn’t often someone managed to surprise him.

You’d caught him on the roof of your apartment building, waiting for you to get home from work. You knew he’d been watching you for about two weeks, but you hadn’t actually been able to catch him in the act until now.

“I was… uh…” he stuttered, not sure how to proceed. You crossed your arms, raising a brow at him.

“Did Rhys send you?” Your voice was calm, trying to hide the anger that you felt. He swallowed.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But… I also wanted to come.”

“Why?” Pure curiosity, again hiding the anger.

“I…” Another swallow. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You blinked. “I’m fine.”

“Okay… good,” he responded. It was quiet for a few moments. “Rhys misses you. He wants to apologize; he’s been a wreck since you left.” You let out a long exhale, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

I’m the one who left without an explanation, but of course he wants to apologize, you thought. Perfect Rhysand, always being so caring and attentive and fucking perfect. 

A shiver ran up your spine. You slowly approached where he stood next to the railing and looked out over the city. “I’m not coming back to Velaris.”

“Why not?” You were shocked at the question; you didn’t think he cared that much. But then again, you were really good friends with Az before you left. You always felt like you could talk to him. He seemed to get you when no one else did. You silently cursed yourself for ruining that friendship, and all the others.

“I don’t want it.” You fought to keep your voice from breaking. As usual, he knew exactly what you meant.

“(Y/N), he’s your mate.”

“That means nothing.”

“That means everything!” He wasn’t yelling by any means, but his voice was definitely louder than you’d ever heard it. He turned back to face you and exhaled. “You’re really fucking lucky, you know… You’re lucky to even have a mate at all; some of us would give anything for that bond.” 

Your ears heated. Az hadn’t yet been mated. He never spoke about it, but you knew it had to have been hard for him to be the only un-mated male in the group. You saw the way he looked at Cassian and Nesta sometimes, like he was happy for them, but he craved that closeness with someone.

“But,” he continued. “You’re also lucky to have a mate who loves you so much. You’re lucky to have a mate who would do anything for you; who would go to the ends of the Earth just to make you happy. You’re lucky to have a mate who is such a good male. And you’re too fucking blind to see it.”

A hot tear rolled down your cheek and anger exploded in your chest. “Don’t you get it? That’s the fucking point.”

“What?” His voice was riddled with irritated confusion. You focused on the railing; you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“He’s so fucking good. He’s kind and he’s patient and he’s generous. He’s… perfect. And… I’m not. I’m a terrible fucking person. He should hate me. I deserve it. He shouldn’t be shackled to me for his entire existence just because of some archaic mating bond. He deserves better.” Tears fell freely down your face now and you could feel Azriel’s stare soften. 

He wrapped an arm around you and you cried into his chest. You felt him press a soft kiss to my forehead and he rubbed your back. It was quiet for a while, besides the sound of your sniffles.

When you ran out of tears, you pulled back enough to look up at him. “Do you think I should go back?”

“Yes. I do.” He knew it wasn’t the answer you wanted to hear, but he could never lie to you. “And not just because of Rhys. Everyone misses you… Cass, Mor… Even Amren.” He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, his voice soft. “I miss you.”

A shiver ran up your spine and you hugged him even tighter. “I miss you too, Az. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have just abandoned you.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You felt his hands gently caressing your back. “Just come home.”

My Brother’s Sister

Pairing: Azriel x Rhys’s Sister!reader (f). Summary: Rhys forbids reader from talking to Azriel, but she says fuck that and also fuck me😏 and Az is down with it (set before Rhys is High Lord). Warnings: 18+, smut, soft!dom!Az, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, pet names (good girl, baby girl), unprotected sex. Word Count: 1.4k

***

“Can I talk to you?” Rhys had cornered you in the hallway after dinner. His eyes were… sad. Something was wrong. You nodded, thinking it must be something serious. You followed him down the hallway to the private library. He shut the door behind him and was quiet for a few moments, not sure how to start.

“You know I love you, right?” he asked. You nodded, your brows furrowing. You two were close, but it wasn’t often you were so candid about your feelings. “And I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Are mom and dad okay?” Your parents had gone on a trip to Illyria and weren’t going to be back until next week. Had something happened to them? Is that why he was acting so weird?

He sighed. “They’re fine, this isn’t about them.”

“Then what is it about? You’re scaring me.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. 

“I see how you look at Az.” He crossed his arms. You blinked. That was not at all what you were expecting. Sure, maybe you had a little crush on the shadowsinger, but it wasn’t enough for Rhys to be making this big of a deal out of it.

“So?”

“So I want you to know that it’s never going to go anywhere.” Your eyes narrowed.

“Did he say something-”

“No, I just… Look, (Y/N), you know I care about you. And Az is like a brother to me; if this ends badly between you, you’ll both be hurt and I’ll be caught in the middle. I don’t want-”

“It’s none of your business, Rhysand.” He swallowed his fury, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He always loved your feistiness, but not when it was directed at him.

When he spoke again, his voice was even. “You are forbidden to speak to him anymore.”

“That’s bullshit,” you spat. “I’m a grown female and I can do whatever I want. You’re not High Lord yet, so don’t think you can get away with bossing me around, you pretentious prick.” You fled the room, slamming the door in his face and shuffled angrily through the halls of the House of Wind. He hadn’t even bothered to follow you.

You were seething as you practically stomped down the hallway in a blind rage, and found yourself before Az’s bedroom.

You banged on the door. It took all of five seconds before it opened and a shirtless male emerged.

“(Y/N)? What’s wro-” Your lips cut him off. He was surprised at first, but eventually relaxed into it, kissing you back. You knew he’d felt the same about you; he was just too shy and afraid of Rhys to do anything about it. 

You gently nudged him backwards, into his room, and once you were fully inside, you kicked the door shut behind you, using magic to lock it. You guided him back toward the bed. He pulled away, confusion all over his face. He looked like he had a million questions, but couldn’t quite voice any of them.

“Wh… what are you doing?” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he fought to keep his sanity. 

“I want you,” you mumbled somewhat desperately, tugging at the waistband of his pants. He glanced at the door, his lips slightly parted, as if he expected Rhys to kick it open and rip him to shreds. “Az.” The sound of your voice pulled his eyes back to you. “Please,” you whimpered.

His kiss was gentle and sweet, and he cupped your ass as he picked you up. He placed you gently on his bed, only breaking the kiss to pull your shirt off. 

You gasped as he sucked your nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. You held back a moan, arching your back. He pulled off with a satisfying pop.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered, eyes drinking in your naked torso.

He kissed his way down your body, and you shivered to see him kneeling between your legs. 

He looked up at you, lust temporarily removed from his gaze. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You could not have been more sure. He smirked, tugging the waistband of your leggings and removing them completely. 

“Mmm, you’re already so wet for me,” he mumbled. He was so close that you could feel his breath against your heat and you lifted your hips, trying to get even closer to him. “Aww. Are you desperate for me, baby?”

“Fuck, yes, Az, please-” Before you could even finish, he was licking a long stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit. Just the feeling of his warm tongue on you made you want to cum right there. Once he got to the top, he sucked your clit into his mouth, making you moan. You covered your mouth, knowing that Cassian’s bedroom was right across the hall. 

He slid a finger in you, but it wasn’t enough. A mere tease. You whimpered.

“Please…” He knew what you meant, adding another finger. Your head fell back against the mattress in pure pleasure and you had to fight to keep quiet. You arched your back again. You wanted more, and he was happy to deliver, adding a third finger. Now, you had to bite down on your fingers to stifle the ungodly noises you wanted to make. 

Your legs started to shake. He felt your pussy begin clenching around his fingers and immediately pulled out. You let out a disappointed whimper. In moments, he was face to face with you, his lips on yours.

You could taste yourself on his lips. His fingers drew agonizingly slow circles on your clit and you rutted against them, begging for more. He smirked against your lips. 

You reached down, palming his dick through his pants.

Gods, he was big. A shiver ran up your spine. 

He pulled his pants down, letting his massive cock spring free. He wrapped a hand around it, pumping it once. Your eyes widened at the sheer size of it.

He must have sensed your panic, because he said, “We don’t have to-”

“I want it,” you said, your eyes shifting back to his. You swore he looked like a god in that moment, his muscular body on display, a hand clasped around his cock. “Please, Azriel… Fuck me.” 

For a moment, all of his restraint disappeared and he was entirely primal, but he took a deep breath to calm himself. You licked your lips as he stepped closer. He leaned down, kissing you gently again as he guided his cock to your wet pussy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, excitement buzzing through you as he pushed in. 

He went ever so slowly, letting you adjust to him. You sucked in a breath as his tip nudged your cervix, and he kissed your jaw in silent encouragement. He stayed still, waiting for your signal. Finally, you began to desperately shift your hips. 

He smiled down at you for a moment, just watching you writhe on him. “My good girl,” he purred, and you swore your pussy clenched at just those words. He pulled out halfway then slowly thrust back in. You couldn’t help but moan. “Takin’ me so well… What did you say you wanted me to do to you?”

You swallowed, your brain working overtime just to get the words out. “Fuck me, Az.”

Once again, his restraint disappeared and this time, he didn’t fight it. He gripped your hips, thrusting in faster. You had never felt this good. Your brain couldn’t even form coherent thoughts anymore. You just clung to him as he pounded into you. 

He reached down, rubbing circles on your clit again, and you tightened around him. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Gonna cum for me, baby girl?”

You nodded, your mind beyond forming words. 

He smirked, leaning down so that his lips were right next to your ear as he whispered, “Why don’t you cum loud enough for Rhys to hear?”

That was all the permission you needed.

You were sure all of Velaris heard your climax. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him sent Az over the edge. You were still seeing stars when he pulled out of you. You whimpered, feeling empty. He pulled you into his arms, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pressing another gentle kiss to your lips.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

You were about to tell him you love him back when there was a loud pounding on the door.

In the Tent

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader. Summary: In a tent with Azriel and the reader is in absolute heat😩 Warnings: 18+, smut, soft!dom!Az, fingering, pet names (bunny, good girl). Word count: 857.

***

“(Y/N)? What are you doing?” You took in the sight of the shadowsinger, laying in his bed. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as you entered his tent. 

You didn’t respond as you climbed into his bed and cuddled up next to him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around you.

You’d gone on a trip with the Inner Circle to one of the Illyrian camps. You each had your own tent, but you didn’t feel like sleeping alone. 

“I’m lonely,” you responded, burying your face in his neck. “And cold.” 

He held you tighter to warm you up, kissing the side of your head. You began kissing his neck as his warmth began to seep into you. 

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, a shiver running down his spine from the feeling of your ice cold lips on his skin. You smirked.

“I can think of a way to warm me up faster,” you said against his neck. You’d had moments like this with Az before - little kisses, maybe a cuddle session here or there, but it never went any further than that. His body went impossibly still at your insinuation. You slid your hands beneath his shirt, feeling his muscular chest. You leaned back in to kiss him. His tongue slid over your bottom lip and you opened his mouth slightly, letting him in. He explored your mouth with his exceptionally skilled tongue and you felt heat pooling between your legs already, wondering just how good that tongue would feel in other places... 

Without breaking the kiss, you situated yourself so that one of his legs was between both of yours, and you writhed against it. He pulled back.

“(Y/N),” he reprimanded.

“Azriel, please…” You pouted. “Don’t you want me?” You didn’t even notice his hands were on your ass until his grip tightened. 

“Of course I do,” he practically growled, making you smile. “I want you so bad, bunny.” You rutted against him again, unable to control yourself at the pet name he’d reserved for just you. “Wanted you for so long now… but when I finally do fuck you, I want to make you scream. And if we do it now, everyone in the whole damn camp is going to hear.” 

You swallowed, not used to hearing that kind of language from him. You were so far past the point of caring what anyone else would think. You tugged on the waistband of his pants, but they didn’t move. You whined desperately.

“Please,” you begged. 

“I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” You felt a frustrated sob working its way up your throat. “But if my poor bunny needs help, I suppose I could help you some other way.” 

“Yes!” you replied, almost a bit too loudly. “Yes,” you said again, quieter this time. “I need help so badly, please, Az.” He smirked. He gently grabbed your hips, placing you between his legs with his chest against your back and tugging down your pajama bottoms. Your breath caught in your throat when you finally felt his fingers where you needed them most. 

He rubbed slow circles on your clit, but even that was enough to send electricity up your spine. You bit your bottom lip. His other hand tugged your shirt up. You shivered, suddenly hyper aware of just how exposed you were. 

“Y’look so pretty, bunny,” he murmured in your ear as if he’d somehow read your thoughts. He slid a finger inside your wet pussy and you exhaled deeply, finally getting some sort of relief. You felt his soft lips on your neck as he pinched one of your nipples. 

“Fuck,” you breathed when he added another finger. You felt his smirk on your neck. It was so good, so fucking good, but at the same time, you wanted more. You wanted his cock slamming into you, his hands tugging your hair or slapping your ass. You jerked your hips against his fingers and he pulled out. “Please,” you whimpered. “‘M sorry.”

“You’re going to be a good girl and let me do it?”

“Yes, I’ll be good.” To your relief he slid back in, but went slower than before, punishing. As you fought the urge to rut against his fingers again, you noticed something hard pressing against your backside. 

“So wet for me, bunny,” he whispered, making your pussy clench around his fingers. He added a third, and his other hand traveled down to rub circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, baby?”

“Gods, Azriel, yes, fuck,” you swore as your orgasm came crashing down upon you.

“Good girl, bunny. Such a good girl for me,” he murmured as you came down. He flipped you around so you could lay on his chest while you caught your breath. He loved seeing you pant for him. Before your heart rate was even back to normal, you reached down.

He grabbed your wrist right as your hand wrapped around his clothed cock. It was probably painfully hard. Still, he pulled your hand away.

“Please,” you whimpered again. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Don’t be greedy, bunny.” He wrapped his arms around you. “Rest.”

“Can You... Hold Me?”

Pairing: Rhys x f!reader Summary: Reader is a prisoner UtM and asks Rhys to cuddle her in a moment of weakness. He comes to a shocking realization. Warnings: None (literally just fluff). Word count: 487. A/N: This is literally so short, I’m sorry, rip.

***

“Rhys?” Her voice shook a little and my heart broke for her. I turned back to her. I will never forget the look on her face… pure, unadulterated fear. She paused, but eventually asked, “Can you… hold me?”

“Yes,” I breathed without a second thought. She made room for me and I climbed into her tiny cot, wrapping my arms around her as she nuzzled into me.

I would do anything to help her feel less scared and less alone, but I’d be lying if I said I had nothing to gain from this. Sure, I was used to being physically used by Amarantha, but I hadn’t had this kind of innocent intimacy since long before Under the Mountain. It felt… good.

Too good.

Her head rested between my neck and my shoulder. I held her close to me, gently rubbing her back as her body calmed. I didn’t expect her to fall asleep right away, and she didn’t. In fact, she practically clung to me and stared at the wall for at least an hour, thinking. I wasn’t sure if talking would help, so I just kept quiet and decided to wait for her to come to me. She didn’t, though. She stayed quiet. Staring. Drowning in thought. 

It took a long while, but eventually, I began to feel all the tension in her body begin to ease. Her eyes fluttered closed and her breaths were even.

But I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

I realized that I wanted to stay like this forever. Holding her, rubbing her back, playing with her hair. Just watching her sleep.

I hadn’t felt anything in my heart for decades. I’d often wondered if it had simply gone dormant or if the ability to love was yet another thing that Amarantha had taken from me. But I felt something then, like a firework in my chest, exploding into brilliant colors of light and happiness.

I knew then that I loved (Y/N). 

It startled me and I quickly cast the thought out of my head, far far away. I was too afraid to even think something like that in this place. Should Amarantha find out, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill (Y/N), not just out of jealousy, but also to spite me; just to show me that she could. Another show of the power she held over me… over all of us.  

I couldn’t love her; that would only complicate things and put her in danger. So I swallowed the feelings; buried them deep down and tried to explain them away.

She’s the first girl who’s touched you like this in a long time, I told myself, and you're just clinging to her because of it. You don’t actually like her; you just need to feel loved and appreciated. Yeah, that must be it.

That must be why I just laid there for hours and hours and watched her breathe.

Me @ Feyre when she gave Rhys a blowie in the tent after Hybern attacked the Summer Court:

Rhys trying to get Feyre to trust him at the beginning of ACOMAF:

There is no enough rhysand fics out there and I’m going batshit insane

Valentines Day

      So, with it being Valentines day, (happy valentines day to you all) I was, of course, asked who my valentine was. And instead of being like all the other idiot girls and giggling and saying a boy's name, I blurted out, "Rhysand." And then that prompted two different answers, the person who asked me: "Who the fuck is Rhysand?" A classmate sitting next to me: "Awwww, Asikaia's got a crush." So, most of my class thinks I have a crush on someone in the school, or someone in another school. But, if anyone in my school who has read ACOMAF hears this, the'll think this is hilarious as I do.

This is amazing! Kudos to whoever made this! It fits sooo perfectly with them

ya lit meme: eight otps [2/8] Feyre and Rhysand

If you were going to die, I was going to die with you. I couldn’t stop thinking it over and over as you screamed, as I tried to kill her: you were my mate, my mate, my mate. “But then she snapped your neck.” Tears rolled down his face. “And I felt you die,” he whispered. Tears were sliding down my own cheeks. “And this beautiful, wonderful thing that had come into my life, this gift from the Cauldron … It was gone. In my desperation, I clung to that bond. Not the bargain— the bargain was nothing, the bargain was like a cobweb. But I grabbed that bond between us and I tugged, I willed you to hold on, to stay with me, because if we could get free … If we could get free, then all seven of us were there. We could bring you back. And I didn’t care if I had to slice into all of their minds to do it. I’d make them save you.”