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ミ★ 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨! ★彡

Hey!

My name is Snail, happy that you found my blog. Feel free to stay awhile. I only really plan on writing fics in my free time for ACOTAR & JJK :)

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Potions & Shadows (Part III)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leading to Feyre needing the once-village apothecaries' help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: I LITERALLY could not stop writing this part. No joke, all I could think about at the gym was writing this. I seriously love Nesta and her character in the series and have always wanted to write about her. I hope you all enjoy!

part one, part two, part three, part IV

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of loss, more trauma dumping, healing!

Taglist: @cherry-cin, @sassybluebird, @aehllitas-blog

The House of Wind loomed before you, an imposing structure carved into the mountain, exuding an air of ancient power and mystery. The stone walls were cold and unyielding, reminiscent of the dungeons you had once frequented, but there was a certain warmth to the wooden accents that softened the overall austere appearance. Tall ceilings stretched above you, adorned with faelights that cast a gentle, magical glow throughout the vast space.

As Azriel guided you through the grand doorway, you could feel his presence behind you, a silent but reassuring shadow. The house was immense, its scale almost overwhelming. Natural light poured in through the large, curved windows, illuminating the interior with a serene, ethereal brightness. Outside, you could hear the ever-present rustling of the wind, a constant whisper that seemed to caress the edges of your awareness without ever breaching the sanctuary within.

As you moved further into the house, you couldn't help but marvel at the blend of the natural and the mystical, the way the architecture seamlessly integrated with the mountain, creating a haven that was both formidable and welcoming.

Feyre was the first to greet you, her arms wrapping around you in a warm hug as soon as you stepped inside. "I’m sorry I haven’t had time to visit since you arrived. Things have just been so busy with preparations and such," she said, offering you a small, apologetic smile. Feyre seemed to embody the essence of the fae effortlessly, her dress shimmering like it was woven from starlight, enhancing her natural grace and beauty.

Before you could respond, you saw Nesta making her way down the hallway towards you. Unlike Feyre, Nesta was the Archeron sister you were closest to. She had often sought your company, and you had come to appreciate her fierce spirit and unyielding strength. As she approached, it was evident that fae life suited her even more profoundly than it did Feyre. Nesta had always carried a regal presence, and now it was even more pronounced.

However, as she drew nearer, you couldn't help but notice the stark changes in her appearance. Dark circles framed her eyes, and her cheeks were hollow, hinting at self-neglect or something more troubling. The once bright and lively child you remembered now had a cold fire in her eyes, a guardedness that spoke of hidden pain and secrets. She resembled a drake, fiercely protecting something deep within.

A pang of guilt struck you. If only your wards had been stronger, perhaps the tragedies that had befallen them could have been prevented. The weight of those thoughts settled heavily on your shoulders as Nesta reached you. She gave you a nod, her expression guarded, but there was a flicker of recognition and relief in her eyes at seeing a familiar face.

"You're here," Nesta said simply, her voice lacking the warmth it once held but carrying a strength that hadn't wavered.

"Yes, I suppose I am,” you replied softly, searching her face for any sign of the sister you once knew so well. "It's good to see you, Nesta."

The three of you stood there, an unspoken understanding passing between you. Feyre, with her gentle grace; Nesta, with her steely resolve; and you, caught between the memories of the past and the uncertain future. Azriel’s presence at your back was a steadying force, a reminder that you weren’t alone, that you were being watched. 

Nesta finally spoke again, lifting her chin as she peered down at you. "So you’re not fully human. Your stories were true," she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief. As children, she and her sisters had listened to your tales, thinking them nothing more than fairy tales. Now, faced with the truth, the reality of your adventures seemed to dawn on her.

You analyzed Nesta as she stood before you, noticing how both she and Feyre towered over you. For children who had once been on the brink of starvation, their height was remarkable, a stark contrast to your own shorter stature. A slight bitterness flickered within you at the thought, but you quickly pushed it aside.

"Why would I tell you stories that weren’t true?" you replied, smiling at her. You saw the way she fought a smile, and it warmed your heart. Feyre watched the interaction with a look of mild shock, perhaps surprised by the rapport you shared with her sister. The dynamics between the sisters were complex and often strained, each one embodying a different personality.

"And Elain? Where is she?" you asked, hoping to see the gentle sister as well. Nesta's gaze hardened. "She’s different now, you could say the least." You simply nodded, understanding that there were likely painful changes and experiences that had affected Elain. You decided to leave it at that, hoping you might see her later that night.

As Feyre continued chatting with you, you both moved toward the dining room. The table was laden with various dishes, a feast that was both inviting and overwhelming. Nesta slowed her pace to walk beside you, glancing at you with softened eyes. Perhaps your presence brought a sense of normalcy to her, a reminder of simpler times before their lives had been irrevocably altered.

When you glanced behind you, Azriel was gone from sight. Perhaps he had other matters to attend to. A pang of disappointment hit you, a small ache at the absence of his steadying presence. A strange feeling that you have never felt before. 

As you reached the dining room, Feyre gestured for you to take a seat. "Please, make yourself at home," she said warmly. "We have plenty of food, and I hope you find something you like." Feyre went off to grab the others, though you could not sense the fae or scent them. You assumed you would be meeting Feyre’s mate this evening and the rest of the important members of the court. 

Nesta settled into a chair next to you, and you noticed a faint smile tugging at her lips. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Moments later, Elain made her way into the room, offering you a shy smile as a greeting. You weren’t the closest, but she would often come to you for seeds or advice on helping her plants. Elain had always been an ethereal beauty, but now she seemed like a haunted beauty, as if her mind was plagued with thoughts that nobody could understand, perhaps not even herself.

Nesta flashed Elain a worried glance before glancing at the doorway. That was when you noticed a large Illyrian male entering the room. It was as if the doorway was made specifically for him, his hulking size filling the entire archway as he made his way to take a seat across from Nesta. While Azriel was classically handsome, this Illyrian male seemed rougher but equally handsome, with a sun-kissed glow on his tan skin. You noticed Nesta stiffen in her chair, glancing away from him.

His booming voice broke the silence in the room. "You must be the new healer. I’m Cassian. It’s a pleasure to meet you." Your gaze met his. He was handsome, with the same golden eyes as Azriel, though Cassian’s had more specks of brown. As Azriel’s eyes revealed the predator behind them, so did Cassian’s. Your eyes shifted to the red siphons that matched Azriel’s blue siphons, an Illyrian tradition to control their magic.

"Pleasure to meet you as well, Cassian," you said softly, before noticing Azriel had entered behind him. Azriel dipped his head in greeting to you, a subtle yet reassuring gesture. You acknowledged him with a nod, feeling a sense of relief at his presence.

You noticed Elain’s gaze shift to Azriel, her posture stiffening and becoming more refined. There was an unmistakable tension in the air, a complex web of emotions and unspoken words binding everyone in the room. The dynamics between them were intricate, layered with history and unhealed wounds.

As Mor and another small fae entered the room, the atmosphere shifted slightly. The small fae didn’t seem completely fae, as if a darker presence lurked behind that delicate exterior. Mor greeted you with a warm smile and a hug, her bubbly nature unchanged since you last met her. 

"Good to see you again," Mor said brightly, her cheerfulness a welcome contrast to the otherwise tense atmosphere.

The small fae, whom you now had a name for was Amren, took a seat across from you. Her piercing gaze felt like it was analyzing your every move, reminiscent of a tiger ready to strike. She swirled a glass of blood in one hand, a clear indication that she was not truly fae. You caught her knowing look and the deadly smirk that played on her lips, a gesture that went unnoticed by everyone else at the table but you two.

Amren's smirk deepened slightly as she realized you understood her true nature. It was a silent acknowledgment, a mutual recognition of the other’s hidden depths. You held her gaze for a moment longer before turning your attention back to the table.

Feyre walked in with Rhysand, their hands clasped together as they entered the room. Rhysand's piercing violet gaze locked onto you, a reminder of the dangerous power he wielded. If anyone here posed a threat to your life, it was him. You sat in a room full of predators, their eyes revealing their true natures. A part of you wanted to sink into your chair, but you fought that feeling. If you had succumbed to fear every time it reared its head, you wouldn't have made it this far. Fear was fuel for growth after all. You kept your heartbeat calm even as every bone in your body urged you to leave. Perhaps this was the human part of you speaking. 

Feyre and Rhysand took their spots at the head of the table, and Rhysand gestured for everyone to begin eating. You felt a subtle pressure at the back of your mind, like claws scratching at the surface, but your shields held strong. You were aware that trust in this court had to be earned, and you wouldn’t expect anything less. You pretended not to notice the mental probing as you filled your plate, focusing on the idle chatter at the table.

The conversation flowed around you, a mix of light-hearted banter and more serious discussions. You listened attentively, trying to piece together the dynamics and relationships between the members of the Inner Circle. Feyre and Rhysand's connection was palpable, their bond a solid anchor for the group. Mates you thought, what an interesting concept. 

Nesta remained guarded, but there was a softness in her eyes when she glanced at you or Elain. Elain, still ethereal and haunted, seemed to sink into her chair as she stared at her plate. Cassian's boisterous presence added a layer of warmth to the gathering, his laughter and teasing lightening the mood. Mor’s cheerful demeanor and Amren’s enigmatic aura balanced each other out, creating an intriguing dynamic.

Azriel, though quiet, was a constant presence. His eyes frequently met yours, and a part of you hated this new emotion you felt every time you looked at him. Your heart wanted to leap from your chest at every glance, a sense of a tug, a longing to be closer. You watched his lips as he brought a glass of wine to them, the deep red liquid staining them the color of blood. You broke your stare away, as did he, with a subtle tug of his lips.

After dinner concluded, Nesta walked with you to the balcony. Feyre watched you both walk away, perhaps sensing that this was the comfort Nesta needed, someone familiar. Neither of you noticed the shadow that trailed behind you.

“Do they always look at you like that?” you murmured, leaning against the cool balcony railing as the wind rustled through your hair. Nesta joined you after shutting the door, her gaze cool and distant as she looked out over the city below, where the lights mirrored the twinkling stars above.

“Like I’m the cruel viper that I am?” Nesta snapped, her expression clearly signaling she wanted to drop the topic. But you pressed on, curious to see how she would respond.

You pursed your lips before continuing, "No, not like that. More like they’re waiting for you to strike, or maybe just trying to understand you."

Nesta let out a breathless laugh, her eyes narrowing slightly, an edge to her voice. “Understand me?” she echoed, her voice sharp. “I let my younger sister wander into the woods alone at fourteen. They see me as the villain in her story.”

You turned to face her fully, the city lights mixed with the starry night casting a soft glow on her features. “Perhaps they do, Nesta, but I think it’s because you make it so damn hard for anyone to get close. Even as a child, your words were sharp like a blade; you are strong like one too. I hate seeing you shrink under their gazes. Maybe it’s my lack of human emotion, but I don’t understand your guilt. You were a child too.”

Nesta’s eyes flashed with something raw, a mix of pain and defiance. "Maybe I was a child, but I was the oldest. I should have protected Feyre. Instead, I watched her struggle while I did nothing."

"Doing nothing can be a form of protection too," you said softly. "Sometimes, it's all we can do to survive. You can't change the past, but you can decide what to do now. Shrinking away helps no one, least of all you."

Nesta looked away, her jaw tightening. "It's not that simple."

"Of course it isn't," you agreed. "Life isn’t simple, especially an immortal one."

She was silent for a moment, the wind tugging at her hair. "And what about you? Why do you leave for years on end? Your eyes have always looked like you're lost in another world."

You sighed, leaning against the railing. "Let me give you some context. Elves don’t have human emotions—we lack the need to love, to be happy, to feel sad. I’m only half-elf, but I don’t experience emotions like my human side. So, I joined a guild to learn how to be human. That led me to buy a house in a human village, mimicking their emotions, hoping that one day I could learn to love.” Another sigh escaped your lips. “What I want you to understand, Nesta, is that being immortal is both a blessing and a curse. You have an eternity to be hard on yourself, but you also have that time to be kind to yourself as well."

You could tell that Nesta closed her walls once more. You read her too well, and she pushed you away. You were fine with that; you got your message across. It wasn’t until in a small voice she asked, “You can’t feel emotions?” her gaze shifting to you. You shook your head and with a laugh said,

“While we're out here speaking trauma, for eighty years, I locked myself away from any form of contact. Stories came about in villages nearby that a lone elf lives in the woods. It was true. For eighty years, I did not know what to do with myself. My mentor, who was human, had passed away from old age. As a child, I watched her grow wrinkles; when I turned nineteen, I stopped aging, but she continued.” You sucked in a breath before continuing,  “On her deathbed, she taught me a spell - to create a field of flowers. Her last request was on her grave; she wanted a field of wildflowers and apologized for only teaching me revenge magic. You see, she taught me how to be a weapon, how to suppress my mana, and made me into the mage I am today. When my mentor passed, the only thing I did was create a field of flowers and live by myself in the woods. I did not shed a tear or feel any sadness. Then one day, I woke up and did my usual routine, and a human found me in the woods. He said he needed a mage for a dungeon raid his party was going on, a simple request. That’s when I began to learn to be human.” You shifted your gaze to look at her.

Nesta listened intently, her expression unreadable. “So, you spent eighty years alone in the woods, without feeling anything?”

“Exactly,” you confirmed. “It was a strange existence, to say the least. But it taught me a lot about myself and the world. And it’s what eventually led me here, to this moment, standing on this balcony with you.”

Nesta nodded slowly, processing your words. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like. To live for so long without feeling anything.”

“It wasn’t easy,” you admitted. “But it made me who I am today. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then, Nesta spoke again, her voice soft.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

You gave her a small smile. “Thank you for listening. It’s not often I get to talk about my past. One of my biggest fears is that I would be forgotten from the world.”

She nodded, a hint of understanding in her eyes. “We all have our demons to face, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” you agreed. “And immortality is a long time to face them head-on.”

As you stood there together, the night air cool and calm around you, you felt a sense of connection with Nesta. It was a small step, but an important one. You reached over and on your tip toes, pat her on top of the head. 

“I will always carry you in my memories Nesta, even if nobody else will. Just remember that I will carry your memory.” You murmured in a soft voice. That trailing shadow slithered away into the dark abyss to report the newfound knowledge. 

“I hope you get to learn how to love, Y/n. Perhaps I will too” Nesta said as she walked away back into the House of Wind with you trailing behind. 

Azriel greeted you with a gentle hand extended, his voice soft as he inquired, "We have a meeting tomorrow. Is it alright if I escort you back?" Though he felt a pang of guilt for eavesdropping on your conversation with Nesta, it granted him a deeper understanding of you. You, a three-hundred-year-old who had never experienced love, mirrored his own plight in a way. While Azriel knew how to love, it was a sentiment never reciprocated.

Why did he always find himself lost in such thoughts around you?

As the members of the inner circle bid you farewell, Nesta remained silent but gave you a knowing glance. Azriel then lifted you into his arms, igniting a flurry of sensations that made your heart race. You silently prayed that he wouldn't notice the warmth flooding your body under his touch, or the thunderous rhythm of your heart. Azriel was grateful for your lack of fae senses, unaware of his attraction towards you, and the yearning to draw closer to you.

With a powerful beat of his wings, he took flight with you cradled in his arms, disappearing into the night sky. His wings stretched wide, their flapping a symphony against the backdrop of darkness. His shadows danced around you, their caresses like silk, and their whispers of praise enveloped you. They dubbed you a pretty little mage, prompting a blush to grace your cheeks.

Azriel's internal conflict surged as he carried you through the night sky. His thoughts swirled with a mixture of guilt, desire, and uncertainty. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was treading on thin ice, dangerously close to crossing boundaries that should never be breached.

Every beat of his wings seemed to echo the rapid pace of his heart as he held you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his. He couldn't help but wonder why he always found himself tangled in such thoughts around you. Was it because you were unlike anyone he had ever met? Or perhaps because there was a vulnerability in you that resonated with his own?

As he glanced down at you, he couldn't help but notice the faint blush on your cheeks, a sight that sent a jolt of something indescribable through him. He had to remind himself to maintain a facade of composure, to keep his emotions in check, even as every fiber of his being longed to delve deeper into the connection he felt with you.

The whispers of his shadows only added to the turmoil within him, their words a constant reminder of the forbidden desires that threatened to consume him. But despite it all, he couldn't deny the pull he felt towards you, the magnetic attraction that seemed to defy reason and logic.

As he soared through the night with you in his arms, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what this pull to you was. Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: he couldn't shake the feeling that you were destined to change everything.

Mother’s Day Drabble

Azriel making you a mommy 😎

a/n: This is probably awful as I’ve never written smut before but it was just a little thought ❤️ enjoy! Wrote this bad boy waiting for coffee

smut!! Minors do not interact! Read under the cut! Warnings: Fingering, p in v, gloves, overstimulation, okay literally straight filth-no plot.

Face pressed into the pillow, you’ve lost track of time as your mate rutted into you with heavy breaths, sinful noises filling the room. In a daze at this point as you felt the hot liquid seep out of your poor cunt as he pushed himself deeper. A moan escaping your lips. “You’re going to make a wonderful mother,” Azriel whispered in your ear as his hand wraps around your throat to lift your head. Planting peppered kisses against your throat as he slowly pushes his length deeper. Making you feel the fullest you’ve felt. An oh escaping your lips as his thumb presses against your tongue. A hiss escaped his lips as he releases another load inside you. His brows furrowing and with a click of his tongue Azriel noticed his seed seeping out of your cunt. How messy you were, in his eyes, that seed should be deeper inside of you, how else would you become a mother?

“My love we can’t have you wasting it, you said you wanted to a Mother’s Day gift and I’m trying to give you one” Azriel cooed in your ear. As he pulls his length out. Leaving you empty with your legs spread revealing the mess he left of your poor pussy. With his gloved hand. Azriel pushes a finger between your slit, pushing the cum back inside you. A groan escaping your lips as you feel the hot liquid reach deeper inside of you. A few tears spilled from the coners of your eyes, your body so sensitive and overstimulated. You weren’t sure if you were even awake at this point. As it’s been hours, just from one little teasing joke this morning that you deserve a Mother’s Day gift from all the times he sucks on your breasts. Adding another finger, Azriel whispers lowly “such a good girl, look how full you are. Next year we’re going to have such cute babies. Right love?” Pushing the cum deeper inside you. His other hand tightening against your throat. Azriel kept going and going until you came once more, your eyes half lidded as you try to stay awake. Earning peppered kisses as he pulls you into his arms. “Think you can handle one more round, love?” He kisses your temple as you sit in his lap, your back against his chest. Using his legs to spread yours, leading to sinful sounds filling the room as his fingers slip out of your poor little cunt. Cum oozing out of you as he aligns himself up again. “Just one more, okay?” Azriel’s voice raspy as you can feel his grin against your neck. You give a confirming nod, giving him the okay to start pushing himself Inch by inch, a moan on your lips as you feel the stretch. You weren’t sure if it was from how big he was or how full of cum you were. “Happy Mother’s Day” he whispers as he hits your sweet spot.

A City of Dreamers [Part One]

Series Summary: ModernAU of ACOTAR, Azriel breaks away from the small town of Windhaven to escape his toxic family and chase his dreams with his newfound family. Leaving behind his small-town life for new ventures in Velaris. 

[Part One]{Part Two]

Work Count: 1.5K

Trigger warnings: Tabaco use and trauma mentioned, I think that's it!

Another night, another nightmare. Azriel awoke to the gentle sunlight creeping through his window, emitting a small groan as he stretched amidst the boxes littering his bedroom, remnants of his recent move taking a toll on him. Another task he needed to complete to a list that already seemed endless. 

Three years prior, Rhysand, fresh out of university, pitched the idea of starting a tech company called ‘Night Corp.’ Rhysand’s father, a real estate mogul, agreed to fund the venture under the condition it operated in Velaris. As the company prospered, they moved into an apartment closer to work. 

The company ‘Night Corp’ is the biggest in technology. Booming after a year of the three of the ‘brothers’ working eighty-hour weeks. Azriel running the programming and hardware side. Cassian working on management and dealing with the paperwork. While Rhysand was the face, he made sure to bring in the investors and funding. Over time, the company grew larger and larger. Which led to the boys moving into an apartment closer to work. 

The apartment boasted amenities, including separate bathrooms and balconies for each room. Azriel found solace in his smoke breaks on the balcony, appreciating the alone time overlooking the city with a faint scent of tobacco in the air. Cassian however would always chastise him for smoking, but old habits are hard to die out. 

Struggling with the sleepless nights fueled by long coding sessions and haunting memories, Azriel joined Cassian in the kitchen. Finding Cassian making breakfast and doing a small dance as he jammed out to his booming music. 

Azriel moved past him to start his morning coffee, much deserved from the late night he had. Cassian shot him a big grin. 

“There’s a boxing gym nearby if you want to check it out with me later today,” Cassian mentioned as he removed his headphones. 

Azriel shook his head, his messy dark curls bouncing. “I need to ensure the program is fine for the next big launch. Security reasons” Azriel shrugged. “I’ll check it out later with you some other time.” 

Cassian raised a brow. “You know, Az, you don’t have to work yourself to the bone anymore. We’ve got a solid team now. Gone are the days of us slaving away in Rhys’ mom’s basement. Remember, you hired the best from Velaris Tech. Let them shoulder some of the load.”

Azriel shrugged, pouring his coffee and taking a sip. “I’ll think about it” 

It’s true, that Azriel did seek out some of the best programmers for the business. A business that started in a business that now had several major buildings around Prythian. While Velaris remains to be headquarters. 

Rhysand, already at the office, tasked Mor, who was already busy as the marketing director, to find him a personal assistant. Signaling the start of yet another busy day at Night Corp. 

*****

In an apartment two doors down from the boys lived Feyre and Y/n. Childhood best friends who grew up in a small town together that later reconnected. Both of them had faced their challenges.

Feyre is one of three sisters. The oldest was Nesta a famous ballet dancer, one of the best in all of Prythian who frequently traveled, rarely visited unless for the holidays. The middle child, Elaine, worked as a florist in the Springs. However, she did visit more frequently than Nesta. Feyre was the youngest and unfortunately, her father already exhausted most of his income on his other two daughters, leaving Feyre to figure her life out on her own.  

Feyre never was able to go to college unless she wanted copious amounts of debt. Though her artwork was enough to pay for rent, her income wasn’t stable enough. Some months were better than others, leaving Feyre in the middle of applying for a position as a personal assistant, there was no guarantee she would even get an interview without a degree. She was still going to give it her best shot. The job paid well enough that she could start saving up for her studio and be able to pay rent. 

Y/n on the other hand, inherited her parents' coffee shop. After they had passed away, left her with nothing but the deed to a business that she never knew her folks owned. Y/n spent her days tirelessly researching how to even run a business and while sorting through her emotions of losing her parents- cleaned up the place. From time to time Feyre would come and help. Painting the walls, even including a beautiful mural of the Sidra River on one of the walls. After a year of opening the business, the income was stable enough that she could hire a full staff.

The coffee house was unique in a way that instead of being open in the early hours of the morning, the cafe would instead be open late into the night. Allowing night owls like herself to feel the comfort of a good cup of coffee.

It was late afternoon when y/n woke up, she had worked a double late night shift after one of her managers called out. Climbing out of bed, groggy, hoping that her staff could handle the shipment coming in today, reluctantly checked her phone. Finding no calls from the afternoon staff, she considered it to be a small success, a small smile appeared on her face before walking into the living room to find Feyre on her ancient laptop typing away at her resume. 

“Morning” Feyre murmured with her brows furrowed in concentration as she slowly typed away. 

“Morning. Didn’t Tamlin get you the latest model from Night Corp?” y/n murmured sleepily. Taking a spot next to Feyre on the couch. 

“He did, but…” A deep sigh escaped Feyre’s lips “We broke up” she reluctantly met y/n gaze. “He proposed and I said no…” her face showed regret as she didn’t meet y/n’s curious glance. 

Y/n gazed at her, a look of pity for her friend on her face as she leaned her head onto Feyre’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Feyre. What made you turn him down?” 

“Funny thing is, Tam wanted a traditional housewife. Someone to plan parties, wear fancy dresses, and be pampered” Feyre explained, her tone tinged with sadness. “That’s just not me, I need room to grow. He was kind, but I think I really hurt him y/n” She shook off the sadness and continued with determination “So, I’m applying to Night Corp for a personal assistant position. How hard could it be?” 

“I’m here for you if you need anything…with the whole Tamlin situation. But I have to say, I’m proud of you for coming to that conclusion about what you want in life. That wasn’t an easy decision I’m sure.” Y/n gave her a soft smile before laughing softly. “You? Applying to a tech company, Feyre you had to ask me the other day how to download an app on your phone. Feyre you still use BuzzFeed!” Feyre playfully nudged y/n. 

“Buzzfeed will always have a special place in my heart, how else am I supposed to know what kind of pizza my zodiac sign is?” Feyre said with a chuckle “But seriously, the job pays well, and it can’t be that challenging, right? Plus, they’re on the rise. Word on the street is that their main office has a slide! How cool is that?” 

“I wish you the best of luck, I know you would nail that interview” Y/n grinned before getting up to get ready for her shift. “I have to be in early today, to help with the truck order. Let me know if you get a call from them, we can go celebrate!” Feyre gave a warm smile before slowly typing away at her cover letter. Feyre was absolutely awful with anything technology-based. 

After an hour of getting ready, y/n waved goodbye to Feyre and headed out the door. Locking the door to the apartment and heading down the hallway. Scrolling through her phone she bumped into someone. 

“Sorry,” she stammered before peering up at the man before her. Dark raven black hair with a slight curl that almost covered his eyes, a black face mask that hid most of his face, and hazel eyes that resembled burnt honey. He was beautiful, a classically handsome man. The man peered down at her roughly a whole foot taller and said in a voice that was so deep it sounded sinful. 

“You’re alright,” he murmured before gliding past her down the hallway back to his apartment. The sultry voice sent shivers down her spine. A blush had warmed her cheeks before she made her way to the elevator, their brief encounter replaying in her mind. Seemingly hypnotized by the deep voice, a melody she deeply wanted to hear again. 

Azriel returning from his run, sliding in the front door of the shared apartment, couldn’t shake the comforting scent of vanilla and coffee the girl exuded. 

Married to Fire (One Shot!)

Summary: You married Eris a decade ago! Sweet moments with your mate :)

A/n: ALRIGHT! Who ordered the Eris fluff, oh wait that's me because there's like NONE out there. Okay there's a couple. Anyways, I wrote this puppy up before some drinks, so it is unedited. I'm currently on summer break in case you were like how are you writing so fast. It's because I am bored out of my delulu mind.

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: SUPER FLUFFY, mentions of keir *vomit*, drinking, mentions of gambling.

****

Eris, who was now a High Lord after the death of Beron, was somehow your mate. You, the daughter of a poor parsnip farmer, had found yourself bound to the High Lord who did not judge your upbringing. The balance, however, was difficult—getting used to living in a massive castle and all. With your mate constantly busy with his duties, he still made time for you the best that he could.

Even with your petty arguments...

"No, my flame," Eris drawled as he lay in bed reading budget reports. The velvet comforter rested below his hips, exposing his muscular chest. You, however, stood in the doorway with a huff, your twelve hunting dogs leashed up and tails wagging aimlessly.

"Please, it's cold out there, and imagine how warm they would be in our sheets," you pouted, batting your lashes and giving him your best doe-eyed look.

"They're dirty, and I don't think twelve dogs could even fit in our bed," Eris replied, raising his gaze to you. His reading glasses rested on the bridge of his nose as he continued, "Don't even think about it during my business trip to Hewn City next week either," his tone scolding as if you were a child.

You sighed dramatically, slumping against the doorframe, fake exaggerated tears pooling out. "But they're so lonely without us," you whined, giving the dogs' leashes a small tug as they all stared at Eris. Their eyes were not so pleading, as they probably did not understand the situation, but it was still an effort.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, running a hand through his amber hair. "My flame, my love, oh how I adore you and your...enthusiasm. But twelve hunting dogs in our bed is simply not practical." Eris drawled out, setting his reports to the side, completely understanding that he would not be getting work done this evening.

"I could wash their paws?" you offered in a small voice, the pout remaining on your face as you looked at him.

Eris chuckled before replying in a teasing tone, "And their asses too?" You grimaced as you looked away, your cheeks heating up. That was something you would rather not partake in.

You looked away for a moment before relenting with a sigh. "Fine...but I ordered them all dog beds with their initials," you said, looking back at him with a challenging look.

Eris's lips twitched into a small smile. "If that's what you want to spend your allowance on instead of fancy dresses and jewels, then by all means, go ahead," he teased as he patted the space beside him on the bed, a silent invitation for you to join him.

A maid ushered the dogs away, perhaps thankful that they were all so well-trained, as she shut the door behind her. You smiled as you began to crawl into bed next to Eris, nestling into his warmth and feeling his arm wrap around you.

"Please don't cause too much chaos while I'm gone, alright?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You grinned as you nuzzled closer to him. "No promises, I have to keep you on your toes, High Lord."

*****

Eris was not cut out for manual labor; could he sword fight? Of course! Could he help your family harvest parsnips? Hell no.

Eris grunted as he lifted the basket full of parsnips into the wooden trailer. You were helping your mother harvest from the fruit trees, yet your gaze constantly shifted to him. The way his muscles flexed under the autumn sun, drenched in sweat, and those leather pants so tight around his thick thighs—Mother above, save you. Your mother gave you a look that said, "Stop gawking and get back to work," causing you to roll your eyes as you picked an apple from the tree.

Eris walked over to you after loading the last basket. Using his tunic to wipe off the sweat, his amber gaze fixed on you.

"My sweet little flame, you know I could hire people to do this for your family, right?" he grunted as he pulled you into an embrace and planted a kiss on the top of your head. You pretended to be grossed out by the sweat, pulling away from him. He gave you a mocking smile and a deep laugh. "Seriously though, love, your family could move into the palace. I mean, we have more than enough space," he continued, furrowing his brows.

You shrugged in response. "This is how they like to live; it's honest work after all. My father likes to brag at the market that the High Lord loves our produce," you flashed him a cheeky smile as he rolled his eyes. "Plus, they wouldn't know what to do with themselves. They wouldn't feel like they belonged. I mean, hell, sometimes I don't—"

Eris stopped you by flicking your nose. "You do belong in the palace," his look was stern as he gazed down at you, the heat in his eyes resembling a flame. "If anyone ever dares to make you feel like you don't belong at court, I will...do unspeakable things to them," he breathed those last few words. You just nodded and pressed against his chest. Eris still had some trauma to work through, but he was better now after the years you two had been married.

Later that evening, when Eris had to go to Hewn City...

With a plop of a turnip onto Keir's lap, Eris entered the room. "Sorry I'm late," he said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He still had to maintain relations; without Keir, he wouldn't have been able to execute his father.

"Bath or something, you smell like a farm," Keir grimaced.

Eris smirked, taking a long sip of his drink. "It's called honest work, Keir. Something you might want to try sometime."

Keir rolled his eyes. "I've heard of it, thanks. But really, what were you doing?"

"Helping my mate's family with their harvest," Eris replied, leaning back in his chair. "They're good people. And it was...refreshing, in a way."

Keir raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "High Lord of Autumn Court, sweating it out in the fields. Never thought I'd see the day."

Eris took a long sip of his whiskey, feeling the burn slide down his throat. He glanced at the glass as he learned back into the armchair. “I’ll take that bath, Keir. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten why I’m here. Let’s get down to business.” 

******

Obviously, Eris could handle a drunken mate.

When you drank, you drank like a sailor. Eris would just blame it on your upbringing—how you were so used to drinking at taverns with rogues and mercenaries.

With a tug of his embroidered vest, Eris walked into the loud tavern. Dancers swirled on the stage, their scarves dancing in rhythm with the beat of the drums. In his younger days, he might have enjoyed this scene, but now, with you, well, that was all he could ask for. His eyes traveled the room until they rested upon you, chugging a pint of beer on top of a table.

By the Cauldron, you were a handful.

The crowd was cheering, "Chug, chug, chug!" as you finished and set down the glass next to fifteen others. You cheered triumphantly with the crowd.

Dear heavens, this was his mate. With a scowl, he walked over to you. You cheekily smiled at him, but some members of the crowd backed away, sensing the tension.

"Eris!" you exclaimed, your voice slurred but filled with joy. "Come join us! The fun's just getting started!"

Eris sighed, reaching up to steady you as you wobbled on the table. "My flame," he began, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement, "you know how much I adore you, but this is not exactly the best place for you to be showcasing your drinking talents."

You pouted, hopping down from the table with his assistance. "But they love me here! I'm like a legend!"

Eris couldn't help but chuckle, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you steady. "A legend, indeed. But perhaps it's time to head home?"

You gave him a pout as he continued, “You do know gambling is outlawed, correct? You wouldn’t have been betting right, on perhaps who could drink the most?” 

Your eyes widened innocently, but the mischievous glint remained. “Who me? I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said, attempting to sound so sincere yet clearly failing at the task. 

Eris cocked a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Because I swore I saw a few coins being exchanged after you finished that glass.” 

You bit your lips, unable to suppress your nervous giggle, “Alright! A little, teeny-tiny bet.” Showing him your fingers how small the bet was. 

Eris sighed with a groan, shaking his head, “my flame, you really keep me busy, you know that?” 

You grinned as you leaned against him, “That’s why you love me.” 

With a hum he nodded, “Let’s avoid anymore gambling tonight, alright? I wouldn’t want to banish my own mate.” He smiled as you laughed, so bright and carefree, “Let’s get you home before you decide to challenge a mercenary to a duel alright?” 

The crowd murmured in disappointment, but no one dared challenge the High Lord as he guided you through the tavern. You leaned heavily against him, your steps unsteady.

"Eris," you mumbled, looking up at him with bleary eyes, "I love you, you know that?"

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know, my flame. I love you too. Now let's get you to bed."

You giggled, your head resting against his chest as he led you outside. "You always take such good care of me."

"And you," he replied softly, "always keep me on my toes."

As the cool night air hit your face, you shivered slightly, and Eris pulled you closer, his warmth comforting against the chill. Despite the chaos you often brought into his life, he wouldn't have it any other way. You were his mate, his love, his flame, and he was more than willing to handle every drunken escapade, every wild adventure, just to see you smile.

Reaching the palace, Eris helped you into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. As you drifted off to sleep, he sat beside you, watching your peaceful face. The tavern escapade is already a fond memory.

"Sweet dreams, my flame," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I'll always be here to catch you when you fall."

Potions and Shadows Preview

Little something I was thinking about doing. (Soon to be: Azriel x Reader)

Takes place during ACOMAF after a little backstory

Feyre would sometimes reminisce about their old neighbor, a mysterious figure from her childhood spent in the manor with her sisters, before they downsized to a cramped cottage. The neighbor seemed immune to the passage of time, earning her whispers of 'witch' from the town's women and longing glances from the men. Yet, she was the revered apothecary, renowned throughout the region. People would journey far just to seek her remedies. Whenever Feyre or her sisters suffered scraped knees from their adventures, they'd find solace at her doorstep, tears in their eyes. The apothecary, known as Y/n, would greet them with a smile.

'Playing around the grove again?' she'd tease, as she concocted a soothing salve for their wounds, regaling them with tales of creatures beyond the wall. When asked her age, she'd simply reply with 'a few centuries,' prompting giggles from the girls who couldn't fathom her longevity. Despite the rumors, she seemed entirely human, defying the fantastical tales.

Years later, when Feyre bid farewell before their departure, she knocked on the familiar door only to find it ajar, the house eerily empty as if the enigmatic woman had never resided there.

In the hustle of their impoverished days and the chaos of her transition to fae life, Feyre scarcely pondered the mystery. It wasn't until Nesta mentioned seeing the apothecary, unchanged from their childhood encounter, right before the human queen's arrival, that Feyre's curiosity stirred, that after this they would make a quick trip to the apothecary's cottage down the road.