#azrielshadowsingerweek2022

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

Junior Spymaster

Azriel Week Day One: spymaster

Fluff. 1.2k words.

Azriel fought the smile that was threatening to curl his lips as he lay in bed, perfectly still, feigning sleep. The footsteps shuffling across the floorboards of his bedroom were short, hurried, a little too excited. The soft drag of fabric across the hardwood followed the footsteps like a shadow, and from the dim light he could sense shining behind his closed eyelids, he could tell that it was still early dawn.

Very early. The sun was most likely only just peeking over the horizon.

The footsteps halted at his bedside, and a stifled giggle was promptly muffled by a blanket that was surely being pressed across the bedroom creeper’s lips. Azriel braced his abdominals for what he knew was to come, just as he knew his daughters’ knees were bending, readying herself to push off the ground as she fluttered her little wings and landed feet first on his stomach, her bottom following soon after.

Umph! He heard the little puff of her breath leave her as she landed on his stomach, shuffling to straddle his torso. She was still working on her crash landings, or rather, learning how to try to avoid them.

“Wake up daddy! I got you!” Rune squealed, her little fingers poked at his face, giggling as she did so. The sound of her tinkling laughter filled his heart with unbridled joy. He never thought he’d be the reason for a youngling’s happiness.

Azriel made a display of acting surprised, exclaiming theatrically “Rue! You got me good today, baby.”

Rune giggled and wrapped her little arms around his neck, stretching herself over her father’s chest, pulling her blanket up with her. A broad hand came up to rest on her back, stroking her long, unruly mane. So much like his own but softer, finer in the delicate way only a child’s hair can be. He breathed in her honey and morning dew scent.

“I’m a good sneaker, you know.”

Azriel smiled down at his four-year-old. Her little feet were planted either side of his waist as she rested her chin on a fist, her elbows digging into his chest.

Azriel arched an eyebrow, regarding his daughter. “A sneaker? Or a spy?”

“Oh, a spy!” she corrected.  “I’m gonna be Spymaster for Nyxie when we’re all grown up. Just like you and Uncle Rhysie.”

Azriel chuckled, “Oh really?”

She nodded matter of factly. “Ahuh! I’m good at finding secrets.”

He snorted, knowing very well how much of a snoop Rune was. He barely had a spare second with her mother alone.

“I know you are. But you see, what you also must understand is that you have to be good at keeping secrets, too.”

Azriel gave her a smirk as he bopped her on the nose pointedly. It was only just last week that Rune had announced to his brothers at family dinner that mama and daddy were doing yoga in bed again when Rhys had been ribbing Azriel about missing morning training sessions for three consecutive days. Cassian had looked like he was about to combust from laughter.

“I can keep ‘em!” Her bright eyes gazed back into his, the perfect portrait of righteous indignation painted across her features. She looked so much like him, big hazel eyes, raven black hair and golden-brown skin, thankfully still smooth and mostly unblemished. The only thing marring her perfect skin were the regular knicks and grazes a happy child would encounter. But her temperament, her way with people and her kindness, that was all her mother.

“Oh really? Didn’t you tell me just yesterday at bedtime that Benedict has been sneaking mama’s cookies from the kitchen?”

Rune blushed, fiddling with her blanket between her hands, her mind working to form a rebuttal to her father’s accusation.

“Yeah but… I’m just being a good spy for you daddy! You still the master now, so I tell you all the secrets. But when I’m the master, you gotta tell me when Beny steals the cookies!”

“Well in that case I guess you were just being a loyal subject then, is that right? It had nothing to do with tattling on your brother.”

“Yep! Mama said that the master is nothing without the network, daddy.” She waved her arms about as she spoke and that combined with the stern look on her little face had Azriel grimacing to contain his amusement.

“That’s very true, Rue. Mama is very smart; the Master is nothing without his network. That is why you have to all work together to protect the ones you love and the ones that trust you to protect them.”

Rune nodded solemnly; glimpses of such wisdom shown beyond her years already.

“Is that why you’re Spymaster daddy? So you can protect mama and Beny and me?”

Azriel smiled at his daughter. A whisper of sadness at the edge of his mind as he thought about the solitary reason he had been employed as Spymaster by Rhys’ cruel father centuries ago.

Shadowsinger.

So rare, so coveted.

It was no secret that his shadows could infiltrate almost any court, any kingdom. The edge his affinity over the shadows provided him, and therefore the court that he served.

Rune had always been fascinated with his vein of work. Enamoured with everything investigative and the gathering of intelligence. He wouldn’t tell his daughter today the full scope of what being Spymaster meant. He wouldn’t tell her that the pools of their enemies’ blood stained into the skin of his hands are never fully washed away. He wouldn’t expose her yet to the methods employed to gain access to vital information required to protect his family, his court and its citizens. He wouldn’t yet share with her the mental and physical lengths it takes to reel yourself back from the pit of wickedness you slip into in order to protect the fragile walls of your mind, so you do not lose yourself to the infinite realm of darkness and despair as you spiral.

No, he wouldn’t share all that with her today.

How the feared Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court had found himself with the most beautiful female he had ever known remained a mystery even to himself. Of all his proficiency in uncovering the truth, he still had no idea how a female as kind and warm as her loved his jagged and twisted soul so fiercely. And to bestow him with two children that not only loved and worshipped him, seeing not fearsome warrior, but just saw…daddy. Saw their protector, their play mate, their teacher and friend.

“That’s right baby, I do it all to protect you and mama and Beny. And before I had all of you in my life I did it all for Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cass.”

He wrapped a large hand around her head, threading his fingers gently in her soft hair and pulled her back onto his chest, pressing a kiss atop her head as she snuggled into his embrace. A small fist came to rub at her nose, her other hand still clutching her blanket.

“Mama is making pancakes,” she murmured into his chest, seemingly done with their previous conversation.

Azriel laughed. The attention spans of four-year-olds never failed to entertain him. This kid may have had his eyes and fierce loyalty, but she had Cassian’s appetite.

Rising swiftly out of bed, still clutching Rune in his arms, he exclaimed, “Well then, let’s go get pancakes!”

*******

@azrielshadowsingerweek

tagging: @offtorivendell​ @fawnandshadows​ @the-laughing-bubble​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @pagemasters​ @tswaney17​ @sakurakittypeach​ @thefangirlofhp​ @wingedblooms​

[tswaney17]

Hel’s Kitchen 🔪

Azriel strikes me as a male that is willing to take on a new hobby, and though centuries of training has made him the feared Spymaster, the Shadowsinger, there are just some things he can’t seem to master—like baking (but that’s okay because his love takes that title in the kitchen 😉). He’s notorious for letting his shadows run amok while he focuses on his task at hand in an effort to “help cleanup,” though it usually ends up with a larger mess all over the place. However, our dear Azriel is tenacious and someone who will continue to offer to help despite his lack of skills.

For Day 5: Hobbies, I wanted to showcase Azriel trying to take on something new, and @/luxury_banshee did just that. I don’t think I could’ve pictured this any better than what she created and I am so grateful for this absolutely stunning art. Thank you, my dear for collaborating with me on this and bringing this artwork to life. You were a pleasure to work with. 🫶💖

Also, you can bet Elain is off to the side, giving him a thumbs up, but internally going, “My kitchen…” 😂

Do Not Repost

@azrielshadowsingerweek

[freyjas-musings]

Irrespective of who was hosting Azriel Week I would have always participated.

So @azrielshadowsingerweek Day 4 Romance

How can there be a romance day for Azriel without a special Gwynriel piece 🙂🙂🙂. Here is celebrating our favourite

CARYNTHIAN MATES.... THE SAINT AND HER SINNER ... THE SHADOWSINGER AND HIS PRIESTESS

UNDER THE MOONLIGHT - WITH MUSIC IN THEIR SOULS, BATHED IN MOONLIGHT AS THEY SHARE A ROMANTIC MOMENT ...

Artist Yasmin is exceptional and her Gwynriel is just superior 😍😍😍😍😍.... Thank you for the spectacular piece

REPOST NOT ALLOWED ACROSS ANY MEDIA OUTLETS. REBLOGGING ALLOWED.

[leiaamidala]

𝘈𝘻𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘭’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳. 𝘛𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘌𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵.

𝙊𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣.

𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴.

⊱❊⊰⁣⁣⁣⁣

⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⤞ art by rutisfree

⤞ commissioned by me

@azrielshadowsingerweek Romance Day

⊱❊⊰⁣⁣⁣⁣

This is one of my favorite acotar scenes and I’m so happy to have a piece representing it, with a twist! While in canon it takes place at night, the marvelous Rutisfree played with sunlight through the stained-glass window shining light in to play with shadows. A beautiful blend reminiscent of another wonderful scene Elain and Azriel share, in which Feyre paints in her head that vision of light and dark as she watches Azriel lend his precious dagger to her sister. Enjoy!

⊱❊⊰⁣⁣⁣⁣

do not repost, please.

[lady-riel]

Gwyn: So what kind of hobbies do you have?

Azriel: Sharpening blades.

Gwyn: That’s a chore, not a hobby. Hobbies are joyful.

Azriel: 

Azriel:

Azriel:

Azriel: Sharpening blades joyfully.

[offtorivendell]

Shadows and Attors and Wolves, Oh My!

A very short bit of nonsense, posted for @azrielshadowsingerweek Day 5 - Hobbies. It could also work for Day 3 - Friends and Family.

Feyre stepped softly up the stairs to her now twelve month old son's room, looking forward to some cuddles after a long day meeting with Velaris' city planners, and hoping that Rhys had kept him up just a wee bit little later than usual so she wouldn't have to wake him. Nyx, a bright and cheerful child, was always happy to hug his Mama, but his mood did suffer a little the next morning if his sleep was interrupted.

Rounding the corner of the landing, she heard the dregs of a whispered suggestion, followed by some sort of deep, muffled question, and then a quick, "Do it, he loves the scary ones best," in her mate's night-kissed voice. Giggling cut through the silence of the river house, full of joy.

Curiosity piqued, she winnowed silently, landing just outside the doorway to Nyx's room, finding Rhys and Azriel inside. Rhys was lounging in the rocking chair, with two arms full of one very excited Nyx—who was clapping his hands and wings in time with each other, nearly smacking his father in the face—while Azriel was standing off to the side of the faelight set on the bedside table, using his shadows to create extravagant creatures against the wall.

She smiled at the sight.

Azriel must have been practising, because these animals were readily identifiable and even moved independently. A far cry from his earliest efforts.

As Feyre watched, she saw the wolf and puppies romping across the wall transform into a winged faerie, then five, with wings and talons spread as they flew across the wall—all Attors, she quickly realised. Concern for her son rose, as she didn't want to put him to bed primed for nightmares, but before she could say anything a soft, dark presence stroked at the edges of her mind.

It's okay, Rhys said, Nyx here seems to appreciate the fell beasts. The more horrific, the better.

Relaxing, Feyre sent a single message back down their bond: If he wakes up crying, I blame you.

Rhys chuckled, and Azriel, who had almost certainly known she was there from the moment she had entered the house, simply raised his eyebrows at his brother. "Silent conversations are rude when one person can't participate, you know."

Rhys raised one hand in apology as Feyre stepped into the room. "Alright, shadow master. What next?"

Feyre grinned wickedly, taking Nyx into her arms and perching herself on the tufted arm of the chair, dropping a kiss on the top of his soft, dark hair.

"Try Bryaxis."

~🦇🦇🦇~

Please excuse this short, fluffy nonsense. I just think it would mean a lot to Azriel to be able to use his powers for innocent fun. To know that his shadows, which might be considered scars of a sort - of his time in his father's dungeon, if that is truly when they came to him - are thought of as beautiful by his friends and family. That they, he, can create things of beauty, and bring joy.

[damedechance]

i watch the skies getting light

AO3 link | NSFW | (1/1)

@azrielshadowsingerweek Day 4: Romance

I am unable to control myself, apparently, because when I saw @separatist-apologist got this ask, I immediately wanted to write a oneshot. So here it is: Gwynriel breeding kink. Thanks for letting me insert myself into your ask box.

Azriel and Gwyn spend their time in the hours between dusk and daybreak, and it is in each other's arms that they slowly begin to find peace. Years later, they live in a house that is quiet, and wish only to fill it with noise

Snippet:

He is quite impressed, when she begins walking backwards down the hall. The lights are off, but she does not stumble. As if he is being pulled back to shore by a rope around his middle, he follows her.

Her hand is on the doorknob that leads to her bedroom. This is usually where they part. Azriel walks right up to her, so close that their toes could touch, and she has to crane her head back to look at him.

“Will you think of me?” he croons to her.

“What thoughts do you hope I’ll have?” Gwyn asks. Her shoulders fall back against the door, and it is like she has forgotten that they are supposed to stop. Here. They are supposed to stop.

“With all of those books you read,” Azriel breathes, “I’m sure your imagination isn’t lacking.”

“And should I take inspiration from tonight’s reading?” Gwyn says. There it is. Her voice is deep again. It draws him forward, like the tides are pulled towards the moon. “Should I think of you, with my hand between my legs?”

He has to put his hands up on the door above her head, to keep from collapsing into her. He has had too much to drink. The wine is making him think less; it makes his legs shaky. Even his fingertips are numb, as she tilts her head to the side and regards him in that irreverent way of hers.

A scent washes over him, and he has to close his eyes when he realizes that this excites her. That the taste of sea salt and sage on the back of his tongue is her, and that she is pressing her thighs together, with her palm flat against the door, her nails digging into the wood.

“You act like it would be the first time,” Azriel says, when he can finally open his eyes again.

They’ve never gotten this far, he thinks as she finally opens the door. It’s like he is falling in, and he can’t spread out his wings fast enough. She doesn’t need to put her hands on him, to make him follow. He shuts the door behind them, and leans back against it.

Moonlight pours in through her window, and it makes the freckles on her shoulders look like the iridescent flecks in the face of an opal. It wanes over half of her face, her expression the still waters of a hidden lake, and it rocks him anyway.

“It isn’t,” she admits.

[hlizr50]

A Very Special Drabble Day

Today my drabble is doing double duty, and what better person to honor than literally my very first Tumblr friend, @trashforazriel

She requested "competitive Gwynriel that ends with a kiss"

And I finished it just in time to celebrate Romance day with @azrielshadowsingerweek !!

Fandom: ACOTAR

Ship: Gwynriel

Word Count: 685

Read on AO3

“One day I’m going to best you, Shadowsinger. Mark my words.”

Azriel smirked as the copper-haired Valkyrie dramatically flopped onto her back, perspiration sparkling over her brow in the moonlight. Gwyn seemed to be improving by the hour and, though he’d never admit it, it was quite possible that she would manage to win a sparring match in the not-so-distant future. But he wouldn’t make it easy for her. With an arrogant snicker he loomed over her, arms crossed over his chest.

“In your dreams, Berdara.” Offering a hand, he helped her up from the dirt floor of the ring.

“In your nightmares,” she corrected, and his laugh echoed into the warm summer evening.

“Terrifying indeed,” he answered. “Ready for core?” The priestess groaned in response, but her scowl transformed before his very eyes, her bright, beautiful gaze lighting with mischief.

“How about a little competition. Dagger throwing.” She gestured to the targets on the other side of the ring. “If you win, I’ll do whatever hellish core workout that depraved mind of yours can concoct.”

The shadowsinger raised a skeptical brow. “And if you win?”

Gwyn dragged her plump, pink lower lip between her teeth. “If I win, you give me a kiss. And we get to skip core for the night.”

His heart stuttered, lungs seizing in his chest at her suggestion. The silence stretched between them as he studied her expression, shy smile and wide, innocent eyes that glimmered with a hint of uncertainty. In a blur their interactions flashed through his mind, all of the times that he’d hoped that he had seen a hint of the same interest that he held for her. Azriel had been too afraid to test those waters, unwilling to make Gwyn even the slightest bit uncomfortable. But perhaps…

“I agree to your terms, priestess,” he murmured, reveling in the way roses bloomed on her cheeks. The Illyrian made his way to the weapons rack and retrieved six daggers, offering three of them to his companion. “Ladies first.”

“How very chivalrous of you,” she quipped. Her irreverence pulled another smile out of him, as it did quite often these days.

Azriel watched as Gwyn studied the blade and turned it over in her hand, testing the grip and the weight and the balance. Then, gripping the blade, she cocked her arm back and let it fly, the metal burying itself just to the right of where the dummy’s heart would be. She shrugged, lips turned down in an accepting grimace, before nodding to him.

The spymaster’s dagger struck true in the heart of his own target. And, since he had made the better hit, he quickly threw first for the second round, his blade burying itself in the padded sphere that was the figurine’s head.

He turned to the Valkyrie, only to be met with a heated, challenging glare. Gwyn sent her second dagger whizzing to the target, striking an area that would be… rather sensitive to a male. Azriel choked on a cough, and she now raised her own eyebrow.

“Point taken, Berdara. That round is yours.” His heart fluttered at the ear-splitting grin she gave him. With a jerk of his chin he added, “Final round. It all comes down to this.”

Gwyn’s answering eye-roll made him chuckle, but she didn’t give a witty retort. She was solely focused on the target, firing her last blade. It lodged itself in what would have been the stomach, and her nose crinkled in disappointment. It wasn’t a poor shot - it would be a grave injury - but it was not a killing blow.

The priestess was gnawing on her lip when he turned to him, no doubt waiting for his victory and subsequent abdominal agony.But Azriel didn’t want to work core. Didn’t want to make her, didn’t want to watch her. His hazel eyes burned into fathomless seas, his gaze never leaving hers as he tossed his third dagger over his shoulder. It earned him a gasp and a delicious blush as he stepped up to her, cupped her cheek, and slanted his mouth over hers.

Tag List: @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @flora-shadowshine @positivewitch @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @vikingmagic33 @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @sagureads @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sv0430 @writing-spaces @onemorenightdreamer @feyretale @almosttenaciousmoon @mystical-blaise @the-introverted-bibliophile @live-the-fangirl-life @silverflameataraxia @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @kimstclair @mercarimari @romancebooksandshit @headcanonheadcase @booknerd87 @damedechance @ofduskanddreams @daevastanner @houseofhurricane

[ofduskanddreams]

chapter seven: evergreen — up now

Posting a day early for @azrielshadowsingerweek Day 4 — Romance

Summary:

When Azriel gets to the River House on Christmas Eve, he finds that Gwyn is already there—she decided to come. When Gwyn can't sleep, she goes outside to watch the snow. Azriel joins her. Before they go back to their respective guest rooms, Gwyn gives him a Christmas present.

Read the chapter here on AO3. Enjoy the teaser below :)

— — — —

“I can tell exactly what you three did, and what Gwyn and Az tried to fix before we got back.” Rhys turned to smirk at his wife, “I expected better from an artist, Darling.”

Feyre, with Nyx sitting on her knees as he decapitated a gingerbread man, stuck her tongue out at Rhys whose smile widened salaciously.

An ache bloomed behind Azriel's sternum as he watched the exchange. Gwyn quietly sat on the couch next to Nesta, reaching for her glass and taking a sip.

“Miss Gwyn!” Nyx’s squeal was so loud Azriel had half a mind to cover his ears.

Apparently, his nephew had been too distracted by the cookies to notice the new addition to the group before now. Nyx leapt down from his mother’s lap and flung himself onto the sofa beside Gwyn. The little boy debated what to do for half a second before throwing his arms around Gwyn’s neck and hugging her.

“Hello to you too, Nyx.” Gwyn laughed through the words, hugging him back. 

That spot behind his ribs twinged again.

Nyx pulled away so that he was standing on the couch, his blue eyes bright. “Are you my Christmas present?”

Gwyn paused, like she was processing the words. Then she tipped her head back and laughed. It was a laugh like birdsong in the morning, joyful and free and invigorating. Azriel didn’t laugh along with the others. His face was frozen in a stupidly wide grin and his heart thundered in his chest, that little ache a distant memory.

“No, I’m just here to celebrate.” Gwyn smiled at the little boy as she spoke. “But I did bring you a present for tomorrow.”

— — — — read the full chapter here.

@damedechance @headcanonheadcase @booknerd87 @mystical-blaise @houseofhurricane @sarahsoba @almosttenaciousmoon @hlizr50 @highladyofillyria

[casuallivi]

III. The Chaotic Ordinary Couple

Part II can be found here. Dedicated to Azriel Appreciation Week 2022 Day 4 @azrielshadowsingerweek

"Are hooking up with that that high schooler?!" The skeptic hiss had Elain spitting coffee all over the textbook.

"Shit, shit, shit." She ripped a page from her nearest notebook, her effort from the last hour solving the equation going to waste in the hurry to suck up the damage. “Napkins!” She pleaded to Nuala.

If Nuala were a book character, she would definitely be Hermione, her purses always containing exactly what one needed no matter what they asked for. She reached inside of it, passing a package to Elain, a glare plastered on her face.

"You're stalling."

"I'm trying to save the book." She said defensively.

"I don't care."

"You know Jen wants to cancel my library card for excess of delays.”

“Are you?” she repeated, receiving more nonsenses about books and libraries.  

“If I show up to return a book looking like this, she will gut me alive,"

"Elain Marie Archeron,” Nuala stretched every name individually, “if don't answer me in the next second I swear to God I'll bitch slap you." The more friend tried to play her; the more stressed Nuala felt. Last night she had the heart attack of her life. Elain, Feyre and Nuala had gone to the movies, the kid who was always glued to her sister tagging along, appealing for his case with an offer to drive them. Nuala was suspecting he had a crush on the younger Archeron, but when she went to share her theory with her friend, she caught him kissing Elain when he thought no one was watching.

“So?" she pressed?

“I’m not.” Elain couldn’t look more guilt if she tried.

“Care explain why he was cleaning your teeth with his tongue last night?”

Elain gulped. "I'm dating him, okay? He asked me on a date, called me his girlfriend, took me to his aunt's house and I feel in love with his crazy ass."

"Girl!"

"What?" Elain asks defensively. "You were always nagging me about finding a boyfriend, now I have you. Case closed."

Unbelievable. Nuala dropped herself on the other chair, taking a sip of Elain's coffee, nothing but air going up the straw.  

"Girl, when you went all mysterious on me, I thought, like, you had a fling with that cute guy from Finances or something, not like, a goddamn kid!"

"He’s not a kid. He’ll finish school soon." Elain says defensively.

"Yeah, but you are here surrounded by hot college guys and he's there, doing math homework or something."

"I'm doing math homework." Azriel’s current status was a sensitive topic to her. In the beginning she was weird out for being crushing on a younger boy, she couldn’t even kiss him, their PDA revolving around lots of hand holding and long, long, hugs.

"Don't play coy with me Elain, or I swear to God," Nuala threatens. The farther the conversation went, the closer she felt to lose her shit. Now their plans to go on double blind dates had gone to shit. "A freaking high schooler. I can't believe you."

"What's the big deal? Guys date high schoolers all the time."

"Gross."

"Shut up, he's almost my age, and next year he'll be in college too." Elain sighed.

Why was she being condemned for finally having a boyfriend? Damned if she did, damned if she didn't. She packed her stuff, annoyed with Nuala's judgment. The two friends had always had similar views of life, so Nuala bashing her wasn't really a surprise. Still, Elain didn't like having someone else pointing fingers at her dating life. Nuala, who couldn't take a hint to save her life, choose to follow her outside the coffee shop.

"I'm not judging you." She said keeping up with Elain, who squinted, holding her bag like a shield. "I'm not. I was just... Surprised. I never pegged you for a cougar."

"Oh, fuck off."

He best friend's laughter echoed, attracting attention from the passerby. Elain bumped her hips against hers, urging her to quiet down. "I hate you."

"Samesies," Nuala said winking to a guy walking his dog.

"I can't believe you have a boyfriend and didn't tell me. Low blow Elain. How long is this going on? Did you popped his cherry?” She wiggled her brows, laughing when Elain tripped.

“Oh my god.”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“I did not!”

“Bummer. So, what do you guy do? Kiss?” She grimaced.

Elain blushed. “What’s wrong with kissing.”

Nuala’s shoulders went up and down.

“Depends on how long you’ve been dating. Tell me everything.”

Elain bite her lip, muttering about lack of boundaries, considering how much she wanted to share in a place so open. In the end, she settled for the most superficial topics to use as bait for Nuala to leave her alone. The problem was once she started talking about Az, she couldn't stop, her annoyed face melting into a sappy one, her cheeks hurting from smiling, her hands gesticulating in the air for emphasis.

Elain told her friend all about her secret, which she miraculously been able to keep for six months! Nuala was extremely surprised with that information. She had always been an expert to coax the truth out of people, especially Elain, who she knew since kindergarten, but this time Elain was able to keep her out of her mind.

Nuala started hitting her arm with playful punches, her voice a tone too sweet.

"O. M. G. You're glowing. Stop that! You stop that now."

"I can't," Elain smiled at her. "I really like him."

"I can see that. God, who'd have imagined the Ice Princess had a thing for frail skinny teens."

"Nuala!"

"What? You're the one preying on the poor defenseless souls." She made the sign of the cross.

Elain shook her head, incredulous. Poor defenseless soul? Who? He boyfriend?! What a joke.

“Pfff, my Az is anything but defenseless. I swear to God, that boy came out without an "off" button, he manages to have energy than Feyre.”

Nuala stopped on her track, whirling to Elain.

"Energetic? Azriel? That quiet kid who hang with your little sister, always sketching gore pictured in his notebooks, that Azriel?"

"The one and only."

"That kid doesn't have one energetic bone in his body, Elain."

"You'd be surprised." Elain answered wiggling her brows, Nuala pretending to stick a finger on her throat and gagging.

"I've changed my mind, I don't want to know everything. I can't believe you are in love."

They reached their classroom, Elain sliding on the chair beside her, slamming her head on the desk with a sigh. "I know, I can't believe it either. I hate him."

Nuala rolled her eyes.

"No, you don't"

"No, I don't." Elain straightened up, smiling like a goofy idiot, releasing another torrent of fast words to praise her twig of a boyfriend. "His hair is so fluffy, I just want to touch it all day long. He looks so cute when he gets all mad about being younger than me, his cheeks go all shades of red. And he is so nice to me Nuala, even his parents like me. He introduced me to his folks before we even went on a date, what kind of teenage boy does that?"

"Ho-ly-shit."

Elain nodded in agreement

"My exact reaction. When we left the mansion, because that place is way too big to be called a house, I tried to choke him to death. Do you know what that smug bastard said to me? "She'll be your mother-in-law 'Lain, might as well get comfy from now." He's confident he'll marry me."

"That kid is hilarious."

The conversations around them died down when their favorite professor walked into the room, Tarquin's piercing turquoise eyes roaming until they found Nuala's grey ones. She winked at him.

"I'm going to bang him." She announced with confidence. Elain's eyes darted from her to the professor, shaking her head in denial.

"You're playing with fire, Nu."

"Nope, pretty sure he is a water sign. He got the vibes."

They chuckled, ending the gossip session and fishing their textbooks, Elaine's with big brown spots and glued pages. Shit. She would have to buy a book and donated it to the library, wouldn't she?

She groaned silently.

Goodbye sweet august paycheck, it was nice dreaming about you.

+

“Don’t look!” He stressed for the hundredth time, hands covering her eyes.

“I’m not looking.”

“I’ll know if you look.”

“Dude! My eyes are closed down here.”

Azriel kicked something out of the way, probably a spray can from the noise of it heating the wall. They walk a few more steps, Elan going slowly, afraid of the unknown path, Azriel behind her, stirring her in the right direction. He’d grown a tad taller than her since they’ve met, not letting her forget about it for one measly second, constantly supporting his chin on the top of her head. According to him that was a "power move" to let her know who was the boss. The purple spots on his ribs, from the many times she elbowed him after listening to that nonsense, told her exactly who was the boss.

“Okay, keep it closed," he took his hands off, repeating, "don't cheat!” one last time before his body heat disappear. Elain stood by herself with her eyes closed, the faint noise of the air conditioner her only company. She jumped when sometimes heavy scratched the floor, Azriel screaming "not yet," as she was about to open her eyes.

Large hands encased her waist, long skilled fingers intertwining over her belly, her cropped shirt granting him easy access to her skin. Elain relaxed against his chest, breathing deeply. She could scent the expensive paint, his vibrant perfume, and the delectable woodsy fragrance that always seemed to impregnate his body.

Azriel kissed her hair thrice – his lucky numb. "Okay, on the count of three."

She cleared her throat, imagining herself as an announcer.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

The place was familiar.

Elain was accustomed with classroom he, Feyre and four more students shared as a makeshift studio. Under normal circumstances she would not be allowed to wander their school as much as she did, but dating the principal's "favorite son" (Az's words, not hers) came with its perks. Sometimes she would free her morning to come sit on a corner and watch two of her favorite people in the whole world working, not understanding squat about their creative process, smiling at the few shared jokes, sending Azriel kisses every time he winked her way.

This room was usually a mess, the six work tables spread around filled with materials, canvas from different sizes sitting against the wall, half-finished paintings and sculptures visible in every corner. Today the place was different, incredibly clean, not an unfinished work in sight, only a medium-sized canvas resting peacefully in a wood tripod.

Elain gasped, hands flying to her mouth, eyes bulging out.

The painting exposed a tattooed naked lady, stretching her arms up in the air with a serene expression. Elain recognized the pattern instantly.

In front of her was an artsy redemption of Fibonacci's Sequence. The girl on the painting was throwing her body back, arching herself in a way her spine followed the curve Fibonacci's spiral in the mockery of an elegant stretch, her long brown hair cascading towards the lateral of the canvas, the curls vanishing where no longer white screen ended. Her naked body gleamed with thousands of small dark-blue spirals, that at first glance could be mistaken by careless tattoos, the form actually being clever repetitions of the bigger arc.

She was speechless.

"Do you like it?" Azriel asked after a while, his voice so small and fragile she felt her heart strain. Her over confident lover boy was hardly one to feel insecure, his rare doubts usually linked to his desire to please her. Elain covered his hands with hers nodding her head vehemently.

Her eyes watered. Elain wasn't an art specialist but this was this was the prettiest painting she had seen in her life. Her mind drifted to a couple months back when she was gushing about her exciting college life, how she was loving to delve deeper into math, how number where intrinsically connected to life.

"You're shitting me," Azriel had protested, his head laying on her lap. "Art is connected to life baby, not math." He had the special ability to make the word “math” sound like an insult.

"Na-an. Math gives life." She argued.

"Math can't give life. Art gives life, art is the soul of a human. What the fuck numbers have to do with life?

Elain ran her fingers through his soft hair, yanking it hard when he cursed again, calling him a "potty mouth."

"Have you studied Fibonacci's sequence yet?"

"Who?"

"Fi-bo-na-cci." She repeated slowing, tugging his hair with every syllabus just for the hell of it. "How are you passing your classes?"

"Using my delightful charms at my advantage, just like I did with you. Who was the guy?"

"He was an incredibly talented mathematician,"

"Like you?" He interrupted her with a wink.

"Better. He created a numerical sequence where you can find the next number by adding up the two antecedents to it. The sequence allows one to see mathematical logic, the perfect connection of numbers with nature."

"I don't get it." His confused face was so cute, Elain wished she had a camera to snap a picture. She pinched his cheek.

"Fibonacci’s sequence prime objective is to bring forth the scientific beauty of perfection, is the perfect reflection of order and organization."

Azriel was grimacing as someone who has a massive stomachache, his forehead creased as he tried to understand how the heck math could be beautiful. "You lost me."

Elain smiled down at his puppy face. "I noticed."

"Why does a guy look for beauty in math? Girls are way better. I much rather dedicate my time to learn your curves than stupid numbers." Elain flicked his forehead. "Come on! Have anyone ever told how violent you are?"

"No, tell me."

She traced his glorious thick eyebrows, following the shape of his nose all the way to the bow of his upper lip, Azriel puckering them to kiss the tip of her finger again and again.

That day he was so confused while she talked, now he was here showing her a gorgeous painting inspired by their conversation. The mind of an artist worked in mysterious ways.

"There’s an artist I like," Azriel's baritone broke her thoughts. "Elisa Breton. She has these amazing surrealist paintings, the strokes on the canvas so vivid you can feel her unconscious taking form. I envied her for it. I couldn’t get personal with my art before, my paintings didn’t reflect me. “They lack soul,” my teachers would scold me, “There’s no passion, Z." It used to drive me mad. I thought it was impossible to express myself when there’s so much I wished to say about the world and society in general." Azriel rested his chin on her shoulder, his smile palpable, his voice mellow and passionate. “Then a met a cute brunet who takes space in my mind all day long.”

Elain sighed deeply, flipping her hair on his face. “Is not my fault you are completely in love with me.”

“It totally is. I can’t look at numbers without imagining your sixes and your nines,"

"Azriel!" She untangled from him with a couple of punches, aiming for his stool to park her ass, Azriel following her lead and sitting on the other free one.

"Anyways. I figure if couldn’t stop thinking about you I had to push you out somehow.”

“Gee, so romantic.”

“I have things to do, woman! The art world won’t conquer itself.”

“Yeah, yeah, keeping talking about how I’m disturbing your gran plans.” Azriel dragged his stool closer, the wood rasping on the floor. He braced his hands on her thighs and bite her cheek. “Ah!”

“You puff your cheeks when you pout.”

“I wasn’t pouting.” Elain rubbed her cheek, eyes going back to the painting, the meticulous details giving her goosebumps. "This is truly beautiful Az. I mean it."

"The power of my muse." Elain snorted, cleaning the tears from her eyes.

“I can’t believe you used math properly.”

"Your faith in me is astonishing. For me, number don't mean a fancy sequence that I can't wrap my head around. For me, numbers mean you."

Elain craned her neck to grin at him.

"You did find beauty in numbers after all."

Azriel rolled his eyes.

"I know. I was shocked too."

"Does it have a name?"

"Autumn's Fall."

“Why Autumn’s Fall?”

“That's when we've met, you know?” He kissed the corner of her mouth, warm lips lingering on her skin, Elain melting in his arms. "We've meet in autumn and then I fell for you."

Her lips curve upwards, her heart thumping like crazy.

"You're such an artist."

He wheezes, "thank you.” Azriel pushed back, bracing his elbows on the table behind him. "I have news."

"More?"

"More. Remember Cinthia Hawthorne?"

"The art curator?"

Azriel nods. "The one and only. She’s opening a new gallery, she wants to expose young talents into the market. The Palace of Youth. Cinthia wants to launch twenty-five new artists. It's an ambitious project, but she is confident about succeeding.” He paused for dramatic effect, enjoying the fact that Elain was playing attention to him, hanging on his words. "And she wants to expose my art there."

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."

Elain jumped from her chair so fast he barely had time to catch her, his stool tumbling backwards, Azriel lading on his back with a painful noise, the feeling subsiding once she started to fill every inch of his face with kisses.

Elain grabbed his cheeks, moving his head from side to side, her smile making him feel like his own face was about to split in two. “That’s a good think, right? Like, real artist stuff.”

“Very good, very real.”

She sat on top of him, clapping like an excited little girl who was allowed to eat unlimited candy, celebrating with a made-up song. "My boyfriend is gonna be ri-ich, he's gonna have mo-oo-ney, oh yeah,"

“I am rich.” Azriel scoffed. "I'm a trust fund baby."

"You parents money doesn’t count. Rii-ii-iich, mo-ney, mo-neeey.” she danced on top of him, Azriel bracing his hands behind his head to avoid touching her. Another day of testing his limits. He knew she was kidding about being happy because of money, the hardest task in his life was making Elain accept his gifts.

Elain wiggled again, and Azriel couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

"Should I expect a lap dance every time I sell a painting, too? Because if so, I'm going to be a very determined artist."

She stopped dancing, landing her hands on his stomach. When Elain looked down, Azriel could instantly read the request in her beautiful brown eyes. He did his best to conquer his nervousness, slowly placing his hands on her waist, heat emanating between them. "I'm going to kiss you," he warns evenly "Say no if don't want me to."

Elain couldn't say a world if she wanted. If she was being honest, Elain no idea about what healthy intimacy looked like. Her parents had been a disaster, her mother feel in love with a wannabe rock singer and left home when she was seven, her dead was an alcoholic who couldn't not differentiate day from night, her older sister considered herself heartless. But none of that mattered when she was with Azriel. He made her feel safe, wanted, loved. She closed her eyes and bent down, stopping a breath short from his mouth, brave enough to start asking for his kisses, but not yet brave enough to take them herself.

Under her, Azriel was shaking, his hands trembling as he upped on to her cheek, closing his eyes, Elain delicious minty breath fanning his lips. He moved forward, anticipation making his heart gallop like a racing horse, bumping his nose on hers,

"E-LA-IN!"

Feyre loud yell bloomed around them, Elain shoving Azriel away, getting up do fast she accidentally stepped on little Az. His soul left his body, which rolled to the side under a curse and a painful growl.

The youngest Archeron didn't spare him a glance, running straight to her sister, jumping on her, the fresh paint in her overall smearing all over Elain's white shirt, her euphoric speech delivering her own special news.

"A rich lady wants to put my art where other rich ladies will want to buy my art!" Feyre's laugh was contagious, Elain hugging her tight as her feet went back to the ground. "Are you proud? Are you proud? Tell me you are proud!" She asks with gleaming eyes.

“I’m so proud Fey, you are the best artist I know. You are going to be the best artist in the world.”

“Hey!” Azriel intervened with a raspy voice, blindly searching for the stool to help him up.

Feyre pointed a finger at his face. “Suck it Shadowloser, I'm the best." She turned to Elain grabbing her hand, "Can we surprise Nesta on her lunch break? I want to give her the news."

+

The mattress dips besides him, a hand ruffles his hair, lovely stroking it until he was purring, snuggling on the comforter.

"Azriel…" A kiss on his forehead, "Az," a kiss on his cheek, "wake up," a kiss on his jaw.

“What time is it?" He grumbled.

Elaine's soft voice traveled to him, the sound like a caress on his ear. "One-minute past midnight." A lethal one.

"Christ, what are you waking me for? What's wrong?"

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept, his latest project taking every minute of his day.

"You mean, "what's right"?" Azriel peeled on eye open as she clicked the bed side table lamp to life, the yellow glow illuminating Elain, his girlfriend all bright eyes and white teeth, and,

What the heck was she wearing?

"You're officially legal!" Elain exclaimed, shaking him up, then she was blowing a party blower, the tip of it hitting his nose.

"Jesus Christ."

Azriel reeled back, rubbing the sleep way to separate the foggy dream from reality, thinking he might still be asleep to see her like that. He blinked. Nothing changed. Nope, not a dream, Elain was really wearing that. His gaze dipped to her legs going all to way up to her hair, inspecting the green stocking matching her green gloves, a dark green bodysuit matching her lipstick, and a cheap red wig, her brown roots visible where she was scratching her head.

"Here's your gift." She slapped something on his chest –the calendar he gave her years ago, opened on the last page, big black arrows pointing at the date he drew a bunch of hearts around. Elain tapped her index on the indecent male on the bottom, purring. "Flex for me, Az. Flex as if you were one of my french girls." 

He snorted, placing the calendar on his pillow and going to his closet. "No, come back to bad! I waited years to crack this joke."

"Wait a minute. Since when are gift giving, I have one for you too."

He rummaged throw his coats, letting out a triumphant sound when his finger closed around the familiar object.

"Close your eyes and open you hand." He instructed Elain, who crossed her arms over her chest, looking annoyed as she eyed his pants.

"I'm not falling for that again."

"Get you head off the gutter, Archeron." He screeched, feigning being outraged, sitting with her. "Come one baby, do it for me."

"The pants stay on." She warned with killing glare.

"The pants stay on," he reported after her, complementing with, "for now."

Elain rolled her eyes, unable to hide the smirk trying to break free. With a resigned breath she did as she was told, extending both hands to tease him. "It's better be bigger than last time," she whispered diabolically, winning a bite in her wrist. "Oi!"

"Shhh." Azriel turned her palm up, placing a light weight on top of it, something cold, squared. "Open up."

Her brain shut down, her body paralyzed for complete at the sight of the opened velvet box, a sparkling engagement ring resting on the inside, the teardrop sapphire nearly blinding her with its beauty. "What do you think? Do you want to put it on?"

Elain breathed an ugly sound that was half cry, half laughter

"That's – what you said – the last time," she sobbed shaking her hand in front of his face, trembling as he slid the ring on her finger, kissing it before releasing her.

Elain didn't want to be released. She jumped on him, making a mess of his night shirt with snot and tears. Azriel held her fiercely, his hand going up and down her back to sooth her. When Elain pulled one of her gloves and used it to blow her nose, he finally asked her the real important question.

"Baby, what the hell are you wearing?"

The man he drew on her calendar had nothing on but some ivy vines snaked around his naughty bits, so Elain though it was a good idea to be his counterpart, a modest version of him since didn't want to risk his flat mate walking on her on the nude.

“I’m Poison Ivy,” she hiccupped adjusting her wig, his body shaking under her.

"I love you."

"I love you"

With a kiss, Azriel gently pushed Elain to her back, holding his weight on top of her, that's when she decided to dump a bucket of cold water on top of his head. "We won't marry until you graduate." 

"My God woman, you are obsessed with my education!" Azriel fell back on the bed, letting his best dramatic sigh out.

They started a heated discussing, Azriel pleading an education was irrelevant to be married, that an artist was established once he started selling painting, which he already did, not when he received a piece of paper from college. In counterpart, Elain pleaded she was piece-of-paper-enthusiast, and that she wanted to hang his degrees all over their house.

Azriel said he wouldn't graduate just to spite her.

Elain said she wouldn't sleep with him just to spite him.

They started another argument, this one moved to the kitchen since she was hungry, Azriel offering to cook, Elain kissing him and helping to sort the ingredients. 

It was going to be a long night

- the end - 

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

request! for the secret dating au heheheheh: elain finding her dream engagement ring on pinterest and showing it to azriel as a joke (or him seeing it on accident) and then him proposing with it months later 🥰🥰🥰?????

Thank you so much for sending this prompt! I hope you like where I took it, and I think it fits in nicely for day six of Azriel Week: wishes for the future 🥰

~

Azriel cracked open his eyes slowly, letting them gradually adjust to the buttery morning light streaming in from behind his blinds. Instinctively reaching out in the direction he knew his girlfriend would be, his fingers explored the rumpled sheets, the stirring in his chest settling contentedly as he finally located her smooth curves. Grazing his palm along her waist, yearning for the contact of her skin in the morning, he tugged her body across the sheets toward him. Rolling onto his side, he wound his thick arms around her middle, enveloping her snuggly into the cradle of his chest.

Elain’s hair was a wild tangle of curls, her thick mane tickling his face as he buried himself deeper in the golden tresses, breathing her familiar jasmine shampoo into his lungs.

“Morning, peanut butt,” Azriel murmured sleepily.

Elain, snorted at the nickname. Always with the ridiculous nicknames. “Morning, water weasel,” she replied.

Azriel huffed a laugh, his breath warm on her neck. “Water weasel?”

“Ahuh, I like them. They zoom about, making everything wet,” she answered slyly, distractedly scrolling through her phone.

A wicked grin bloomed across his face. “They sure do…” Azriel purred, his hands spreading low on her belly as he pulled her body more solidly into his front.

Elain shook with silent laughter.

“Mmm what are you looking at so early in the morning,” he croaked, his voice still warming up.

“Just scrolling the socials.”

“Oh yeah? Anything interesting?”

“Feyre and Rhys just got to Paris.”

Azriel hummed absentmindedly behind her, his hands exploring the soft skin of her belly beneath the oversized t-shirt she wore to bed. One of his.

He gazed over her slim shoulder as Elain closed out of Instagram and opened Pinterest. Heavy-lidded hazel eyes inattentively watched as she scrolled around, pinning a few images to her collections, as he continued lazily stroking at her curves.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before he heard a little involuntary gasp escape her lips. Glancing at her screen to see what had caught her attention, he noticed she had come across the image of an engagement ring.

It was simple. Elegant and understated, just like Elain. It had a light, rose gold band, so fine and dainty that he knew it would look perfect on her elegant finger. And crowned in the middle, was a single, solitaire oval diamond.  

Hovering over it for a moment, her finger lingering at the edge of the screen, he watched her pause before eventually scrolling past.

Curious, Azriel asked, “Not worthy of your standards?”

“Hmm?” She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, not realising that he had been viewing her screen too.

“The ring,” he nodded toward her phone. “You didn’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that. It was absolutely stunning.”

“Why no little red heart then?”

She laughed, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “Oh, no reason. I just… don’t really let myself think about that stuff.”

Azriel pressed a quick kiss to her shoulder blade. “What stuff?”

“You know. Engagement rings, marriage…”

“You don’t want to get married?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just… don’t need it. I mean sure, the idea of promising yourself to one person forever and wearing a beautiful ring as a symbol of that vow is nice and all… but I’d rather have someone’s complete trust and loyalty, regardless of a piece of jewellery.”

He knew Elain came from a somewhat unconventional family. Her own parents’ marriage hadn’t been a particularly healthy one, and as a result, marriage wasn’t a constitution any of the Archeron girls seemed to be particularly concerned with. Having spent considerable time with Elain and her sisters since Rhys had introduced them, it seemed evident that the scars of their parents’ ineptitude had left each of their daughters with slightly varying desires within their own lives.

“What if you were offered both?”

A little huff of a chuckle left her throat. “Well, that’s best-case scenario now, isn’t it?”

Azriel hummed again, his hands now roving down to explore the soft flesh of her hips and thighs, his scars scraping deliciously along her creamy skin. She was always so soft in his arms, so perfectly warm and welcoming. Her body melding seamlessly against his, ensuring they fit together like two halves of a whole.

Trying to ignore his thundering heart and appear as nonchalant as possible, he asked, “If I asked you to marry me, would you say yes?”

He’d decided long ago that he was going to marry this girl. This smart, wickedly funny, kind-hearted girl. He’d be an absolute idiot not to. He just needed to find the perfect moment to give her the ring. The one that was currently hidden deep in his underwear drawer, almost identical to the one she had gasped over just moments before. He’d purchased it not long ago, having commissioned a jeweller to custom make the perfect ring he thought would feel like Elain. She deserved something that was truly hers. That fit her personality perfectly.

Initially, he’d had absolutely no idea there was so much to consider when it came to diamonds. But he’d become a damn near expert throughout the process. Apparently, the weight of carats wasn’t nearly as important as the clarity grade and colour rating. Never in his life would he have thought that he would care so much about jewellery or designing the perfect piece to gift the woman he loved. But, throughout the process, he’d realised that creating something that may seem ordinary, but have the true depth of its beauty revealed if you knew where to look, was exactly what Elain would appreciate. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

He wasn’t in a rush to marry her, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was only ever going to be Elain for him. So, he had gone and put plans in place, so when the time came, he could make it happen.

Elain chuckled, thinking nothing of his question. They hadn’t even been dating for a year after all, and they still hadn’t told their family or friends they were together. Although they suspected some of them were starting to catch on…

“Have I ever managed to say no to you yet?”

Azriel hummed seductively, kissing her just behind her ear where she had a little beauty mark. He wondered if she knew of its existence. Azriel would happily spend all day mapping the constellation of freckles across her skin, trace each one with his mouth and tongue.

Elain threw her phone off to the side, inhaling deeply and angling her head to give him better access to her throat.

“I suppose not. Please don’t start now,” he whispered against the skin of her neck, his lips brushing her fluttering pulse.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she uttered, rolling onto her back and getting into a better position to capture Azriel’s lips with hers.

Threading her fingers into his hair, she slanted her lips across his and kissed him deeply, slowly. Languidly tasting every corner of his mouth, exploring with her tongue and lips. Azriel groaned, rolling onto his front and settling between her thighs, deepening the kiss.

Soon, so fucking soon, he’d ask Elain Archeron to marry him.

*******

@azrielshadowsingerweek

[tswaney17]

The One Where Somebody Says I Do?

Happy Free Day @azrielshadowsingerweek!! I've had this fic idea in my head for a while and decided to share it for the last day of Azriel week. It's heavily inspired by a few Friends episodes combined into one. Let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always welcome. Negative and rude comments are not tolerated. 💙

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Trigger warnings: language

Word Count: 4,914

Elain wanted to just crawl under a rock and let the world go on without her. Because how did one move on when the man they loved was marrying somebody else? Every time she thought about the fact that her best friend, A.K.A. the love of her life, running off to the Illyrian Steppes tomorrow to marry his fiancé, she felt this pain in her chest, like a dagger was trying to puncture its way out and made it hard for her to breathe.

Her family ran around her to finalize their packing when said male stopped directly in her line of vision.  

His warm, scarred palms gripped her upper arms, thumbs brushing over the exposed skin from her t-shirt. “I can’t believe you aren’t coming to my wedding.” Azriel’s face looked almost disappointed.

Well, that made two of them. Actually, she was far past disappointed.

She was devastated.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Elain wasn’t. Not sorry in the slightest. She couldn’t go watch him marry somebody else.

“Come to Illyria with us. Please? I want you there.”

His words cut her straight to the heart and she had to choke down the ache in her throat that threatened to make tears run down her cheeks. “I can’t.”

Those hazel eyes pleaded with her. “You can. I can’t not have my best friend at my wedding, El. Please come.”

Fuck him and trying to manipulate her with that comment. Elain pulled herself from his grasp. “I can’t. I have to work,” she said stubbornly.

Challenge flared on his face. “Call in sick. You’re only missing two days.”

The room went silent as their family watched their little interaction. Elain hated this the most. How he chose to do this in front of everyone else instead of in private. It was unlike him, to pick a time when the others were present and bring this conversation up. He must’ve thought he could convince her to come if she felt pressured to go with everyone observing.

It only made her double down on her reservations.

“No. I can’t just leave Ceriddwen and Nuala on their own. You know how my boss is. Besides, Feyre needs me. Rhys hates leaving her behind but she can’t fly at seven months pregnant. She needs me here.”

Elain saw the defeat pass over his expression.

Azriel sighed, eyes looking sad. “Fine. I’ll see you when I get back.” Seemingly without thought, he brushed his thumb over the apple of her cheek and then swept from the apartment like a shadow on the breeze.

Her face tingled from where he touched her and she felt every single pair of eyes branding on the back of her figure. Not able to take the sad looks, the pity of her family, Elain went into her bedroom without a word and silently clicked the door shut behind her. Only once she was securely inside did she let the tears fall as she wept for her broken heart.

~~~

Elain and Feyre ate the Cassian special—two pizzas—in silence, having already gone through the argument of if they should talk about that conversation with Azriel before he had left.

“I’m just saying, it seemed like it hurt him to not have you there,” Feyre queried, taking another slice of pizza from the box.

She scoffed. “Well, I guess we can’t all get what we want now, can we.”

Her sister blinked at the hostility. “What’s going on with you, Ellie?”

Fuck her, she didn’t want to talk about this. “Nothing.”

“Cut the bullshit. We had all thought that when Az told you that he loved you, you two—”

“When he what?” she cut her off, gaping.

Feyre blinked. “At your birthday last year. He was planning on telling you he loved you.” Her face went from realization to utter horror. “Oh my god, he didn’t tell you because you showed up with—”

“With Lucien,” Elain breathed, her stomach turning with nausea. The red-headed man had been nothing but a mistake that lasted five months. They weren’t compatible in the slightest romantic-wise, but they did make out to be good friends. “Azriel was going to tell me he loved me?”

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. Oh my, he is going to kill me.” Feyre buried her face in her hands.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might go into cardiac arrest. Azriel loved her. Was going to tell her he loved her. But he didn’t, because she had been so blindingly stupid. And by the time she ended things with Lucien, he had met her.

Gwyn.

A nice girl.

Nesta’s friend.

Elain had no real particular feelings for her. Other than the fact that she was marrying the man she loved.

And she needed to stop it.

She didn’t think, she just moved, running for her room and started throwing things into her bag. Clothes, undergarments, a dress, shoes, toiletries. Whatever she could find, she packed. Grabbing her passport, she emerged from her bedroom to a wide-eyed Feyre.

“What—where are you going?” she demanded.

“I have to tell him I love him,” she said determined as she made her way towards the door.

Her sister gaped. “Elain! He’s marrying somebody else! Somebody he loves! You can’t do this to him.”

She whirled. “He deserves to know!”

A very pregnant Feyre pushed herself off the couch and advanced on her. “What do you think is going to happen? That he’s going to end things with Gwyn? That he’ll tell you that he loves you too?”

“I’ll figure it out when I get there,” she told her, voice clouding with emotion. She had to do this. She had to tell him before it was too late.

Feyre’s eyes turned hard. “You’re just going to hurt him, Elain. You’re not a cruel person, but doing this, going there to tell him now…this is cruel.”

She felt the words like her sister had struck her. Tears welled in her eyes even as her heart told her she had to do this—had to see him. “I have avoided my heart for too long, Feyre. I’m finally going to listen to it. And you’re not going to stop me.”

Without another word, she slammed the apartment door behind her.

~~~

Elain found the temple on top of Mount Ramiel easily enough. She wasn’t expecting half of it to be crumbling like it was being torn down, but she disregarded that as she searched for Azriel.

She knew Feyre likely had called Rhys and told her she was on the way and that both he and Cassian would try and stop her in her endeavors to tell Azriel how she felt. So, as she made her way through the temple, she kept to the shadows, crept down the halls, and avoided anyone who would alert them to her presence.

But when she found him, all of her plans came to a screeching halt. Because there he was, in his tux looking as handsome as ever, hugging Gwyn in the middle of where the ceremony was going to take place.

Her stomach dropped at seeing the special, intimate moment between them, but she was frozen—couldn’t seem to get her feet to move, to turn around and leave before he saw her.

“Oh!” Gwyn seemed to realize what she was doing. “You aren’t supposed to see the bride in her wedding gown before the ceremony. It’s bad luck.”

Az chuckled, and gods, it was the sound she loved so much. It cut her straight to the heart, though it wasn’t nearly the same sound that Elain was able to pull from him. “I think we can call this the ‘first look’ and avoid that issue, can’t we?”

She reached out to touch his cheek, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I think that will work.” Her fingers brushed his jaw. “I’ll see you at the altar.” Gwyn strode for the door behind her, not having seen her.

Azriel watched her go, smiling before he turned and halted, mouth hanging open as he finally saw her standing there.

“Elain,” he breathed like he couldn’t believe it. “You’re here.”

She swallowed the horrid lump in her throat. Feyre had been right. This was a mistake. An awful, huge, horrendous mistake. “I am,” she choked out.

He took three long strides and swept her into his arms, hugging her like he hadn’t seen a more wonderful sight in years.

Her chest fractured. She shouldn’t have come. And now she couldn’t do anything but lie to his face. “I couldn’t miss my best friend getting married, now could I?” The words were like acid on her tongue. She wanted to take them back, tell him how she felt. But after seeing that moment with Gwyn, Elain knew she couldn’t. It was wrong. He was happy. And how could she be the one to break that?

So, she’d break hers instead.

But Azriel knew her better than she knew herself. His hazel eyes assessed her face, mouth drew into a frown. “Are you all right? You look upset.”

Damn him. “Fine.” She begged her lips to quirk up a bit. “Just jetlagged.”

It looked like he wanted to pick at it more, but somebody else called her name.

“Elain.” Pure, unrelenting command filled that voice.

They looked up to find Rhys staring at them, his eyes regarding their closeness carefully.

She knew what he was trying to figure out. If she had told Azriel the truth. So, she pulled back. “I’m going to freshen up before the ceremony. Don’t want to smell like an airplane on your big day. I’ll see you soon.” Elain left Azriel standing there and went towards her brother-in-law, who put his arm around her shoulder to guide her from the room.

Once out of earshot, he asked her, “Did you tell him?”

“No.”

Rhys let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Elain.”

Not wanting to talk about her failed love life, she kept her mouth shut and let her tears fall down her cheeks.

He escorted her to the groomsmen’s area so she could change and clean herself up. At the door was Cassian. He shot her a sympathetic smile—one she did not return. “Please keep him out," Elain requested before sequestering herself inside the room.

A half-hour later, she was sitting in her spot, watching Gwyn float down the aisle towards her future husband. She looked beautiful in her white gown, but Elain couldn’t help but think it should’ve been her walking down. That she should’ve been the one to be marrying Azriel. It killed her on the inside to see him marrying somebody else.

But he looked happy as he watched Gwyn approach. That was the only thing Elain ever wanted for him, knowing Azriel came from such a shitty life—a horrible childhood. He deserved to have that happiness. Even if it was with somebody else.

And it was time for her to make some happiness for herself.

She had yet to tell her family that a job opportunity had presented itself to her overseas. Elain hadn’t decided before, but now she had. She couldn’t be around Azriel anymore. Not with him married and likely to start a family soon. She needed a fresh start somewhere else. Where nobody knew who she was.

Elain would tell them when she returned home. She’d have to leave immediately—before he even got back. It was better this way. Perhaps now she’d be able to get over the pain of losing him. Could you technically lose something you’d never had?

“And now for the vows,” the minister announced. He turned towards Gwyn. “Gwyneth, repeat after me. ‘I Gwyneth, take you, Azriel, to be my lawful, wedded husband. In sickness and in health, until death parts us.’”

Gwyn repeated his words, teal eyes shining bright. She and Azriel were facing each other, though they had yet to touch. She thought it odd that they weren’t at least holding hands, but perhaps it was because Az disliked contact and hand-holding.

He really only ever let her touch his hands, now that she’d come to think of it.

Elain glanced at her sister, Nesta—Gwyn’s maid of honor. She looked so happy for her friend. Their other friend, Emerie a step behind her.

The minister then turned towards Azriel and began again.

Her heartbeat thumped wildly in her chest, against her throat. She thought she might get sick.

“Repeat after me. ‘I Azriel.’”

“I Azriel,” he said, midnight voice slithering over her bones.

“Take you, Gwyneth.”

“Take you, Elain.”

The entire room turned to ice as a deafening silence settled over them.

Elain’s blood roared in her ears, her breathing becoming unsteady. Did he—

Rhys and Cassian gaped at their brother, unsure of what to do.

Her stomach somersaulted. A mistake like that was so unlike Azriel. It had to do with her presence. She had fucked up coming here. Now, all she wanted was for the ground to completely swallow her whole.

Please don’t look at me. Please don’t look at me.

Elain chanted the mantra in her head, but it seemed like that only encouraged him to do it more. Because Azriel turned his head and locked eyes with her, pinning her on the spot. She felt several other sets warily turn in her direction, regarding her, judging her. Her face heated, but she kept her focus on him. Watched him watching her.

And then he turned back to Gwyn and slowly took a step back. To others, his face would’ve remained impassive, but Elain could read it perfectly.

It was panic.

No.

She royally fucked up. Tears were already streaming down her face when Nesta caught her eye. She looked torn between going to her sister in the crowd or staying put next to the one she stood beside.

Elain swallowed and realized, she couldn’t breathe. She had to get out before she began hyperventilating. Rising from her seat, she ignored the gasp from one of the other attendees and slipped out onto the aisle. She didn’t need to look back at the altar to know those hazel eyes were once again glued on her retreating figure. She felt them on her back the entire way as she excused herself from the temple, quickly grabbing her bag from where she left it in the groomsmen’s room, and fled, taking her shattered heart with her.

~~~~~

Azriel fucked up. Oh, gods, he had fucked up so badly. Not just in saying the wrong name at the altar, but in the many, many, many decisions he had made that got him to this point. He knew he had a choice to make.

No, that wasn’t true.

He had already made his choice when he saw Elain get up and walk out of that temple. His eyes flicked back to his fiancé, finding Gwyn watching him with a look of hurt on her face.

Gods, he was such a fucking asshole. But he had to end this.

Az took another small step back. “I’m so sorry, Gwyn.” And he meant it with every fiber of his being. “I’m sorry that I cannot give you my heart because it is not mine to give anymore.” Tears lined her teal eyes, but he steeled himself to get through this. He had to get out his apologies to her. Az owed her that much. “I gave it away a long time ago to somebody else, and I don’t think I realized that I never got it back. I don’t think she even realizes that she has it, but you don’t deserve to be with someone who cannot fully love you in the way that they should. And I am so sorry that I’m doing this to you now, that I didn’t figure this out before this very moment, but marrying you would be dishonest. I will always regret putting you through this because you deserve better than that. Better than me.”

Gwyn scoffed, wiping at the tears running down her face. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.” She shook her head. “But I’m not going to stop you from following your heart.” Her fingers wrapped around the ring on her left hand. Sliding it off, she held it out to him. “Here, take it.”

She dropped the ring into his scarred palm. “I really am sorry, Gwyn.”

“Just go, Azriel.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Bolting down the aisle, he chased after the love of his life when he heard two sets of steps sounding behind him and then…

“Az!”

Whirling, he found Rhys and Cassian had followed him. “What?”

“Groomsmen’s room. That’s where she got ready and likely where she went to get her bag,” Rhys said, panting.

He was running. Running for her, hoping, praying, she didn’t slam the door in his face. He’d give anything to make it right with her. Gods, he should’ve just told her that night on her birthday that he loved her as he had planned, new boyfriend be damned. Az threw open the door to where he and his brothers had gotten ready and found it, empty.

Utterly and completely empty.

“Elain!” he called out in a panic. She had to be here. Where else could she have gone? His brothers followed him in, Cassian making a straight beeline to the window. “Elain, are you here?” he called out again, looking in the bathroom.

“Az!” Cassian hollered, his eyes wild with regret.

His stomach plummeted when he looked back at his brother and saw him point out the window. His gaze drifted out the glass and he saw her, golden-brown hair blowing in the breeze. She looked stunning in her pink dress, even with her back to him. But that the slump of her shoulders told him that she was upset.

And then he saw the absolute worst thing possible. A car pulled up in front of her and Elain climbed into the backseat.

“No. Elain!” he pounded a hand on the window, surprised it didn’t shatter under the force of his palm. His heart slammed against his ribcage as he took off running again. Down the hallway, he took the stairs two at a time, leaping the last four steps until he burst out into the courtyard of the temple only to find her car gone. “No, no, no! Fuck!” His hands slid into his hair, gripping the strands in frustration.

“Come on!” Cassian grabbed his shoulder. “I’ve got the rental car over here.”

His eyes widened. “Where are we going?”

His brother shook him in disbelief. “The airport, you dumbfuck! Where do you think? If you’re going to go after her and admit your feelings, you’re going to do it right. Now let’s go.”

They drove as fast as they could to the Illyrian international airport. After having to purchase three tickets to get through the gates, they managed to find the boarding plane for Velaris.

“I don’t see her,” he panicked. “Where is she?”

The three of them searched the crowd until they saw her short stature; golden-brown hair bobbing into the tunnel.

“Elain!” he shouted. “Elain!” Az ran over towards where she was, but she had disappeared out of sight. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He had missed her. He missed his chance.

Until Cassian cupped his mouth and bellowed, “EEEELLLLAAAIIINNNNNN!!!!!!”

He and Rhys turned to look at him incredulously.

“Dude, the fuck?” Rhys said.

But it worked, because there she was, standing at the entrance of the terminal. Her eyes were wide, shocked.

Az just moved towards her, like a moth to a flame. A magnet. A man under a spell. His feet ate up the ground between them in a few strides until she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. Those eyes—those incredibly, beautiful, doe eyes blinked at him.

“What,” she breathed, “What are you doing here?” she asked when he reached out and took her arm to gently move her out of the way of the other passengers.

He opened his mouth, a heavy breath heaving from his chest in a great whoosh. “El, I have been such a stupid male. A stupid, stupid male. Because I have been searching for the right person to share my life with and I’ve always known it should be you.” Her body started to shake, so he tightened his grip on her elbow. “You are my best friend, the one person I choose to seek out to spend time with. You bring me comfort and joy and happiness in a way I never imagined myself finding.” He brushed her hair behind her ear, let his knuckles graze her cheek, and then cupped the side of her face. “I love you, Elain. I am in love with you. Fuck, it’s always been you.”

Tears were flowing down her face. Shit, he made two women cry today. He really was an asshole. Her eyes flicked between his.

Az was able to read Elain well for most of the time that he had known her, but at that moment, that critical spot in time, he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell if it was hope or pain or happiness or anguish or anything else on her face. And the realization scared him to death because he didn’t know what to expect her to say.

“Azriel.”

Oh god, no. Not his full name. She may as well as stuck a dagger in his gut and left him to bleed out on the floor of the airport.

“What are you doing?” she asked, shaking her head.

He licked his lips, wetting them and giving himself a moment to process her question. “I came for you.”

“What about Gwyn?”

“It’s over between us, El.” She visibly flinched at the name. “Please, Elain. Please believe me when I tell you that I love you.”

A sob tore from her throat and she placed her palm on his chest. Had to feel his rapidly beating heart beneath her splayed fingers. “But would you have realized you loved me had I not shown up?”

“But you did, El, you did. I just needed that reminder—the wake-up call. I have always loved you, Elain. And I wanted to tell you—”

“On my birthday,” she frowned.

He gaped. “How did you…Feyre.” He sighed, more to himself. “Yes, I wanted to tell you on your birthday, but you showed up with Lucien and you looked happy with him. How could I ruin that when I only wanted you to be happy?” He stepped closer to her, crowding her until she avoided his gaze and looked down at their feet. “Why did you show up at my wedding, Elain?”

Her head snapped up, but she didn’t respond.

“What did you want to tell me before you caught me and Gwyn? I know you didn’t just decide to come.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Like hell was he taking that for an answer. He took both her hands between his and squeezed them. “It matters to me. Tell me, Elain.”

Another shake of her head sent her hair swaying. “It doesn’t matter because I’m leaving Velaris.”

Every thought in his head went silent. The world around him stilled. “What?”

She swallowed. “I got a job offer for an amazing pastry place overseas and I’m taking it. I leave in a few days to meet with the owner.”

Final boarding call for flight 617 to Velaris.

Elain glanced over her shoulder at the open archway of the terminal.

Was she actually considering leaving? He tightened his grip on her hands. “Elain, please don’t get on that plane right now. We can fly home tomorrow. Together.” Azriel had a feeling if she left right now, she’d be gone before he got home.

She began trying to pull away. “I’m sorry, Az. I can’t do this. I—I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Her fingers slipped away and he stood there rooted on the spot as he watched her walk away from him.

He was too late.

~~~

The car ride back to the temple and then to the hotel had been brutal. Azriel said maybe three words to his brothers who had watched the whole interaction with Elain. Both had offered him their condolences like he’d lost a loved one. Which, he supposed he had. Arriving back at the temple made it even worse, especially when Nesta came up and shoved him.

“How dare you do this to them!” she screamed.

Cassian snatched her around the waist, but in all honesty, he’d love to have her just beat the shit out of him. Maybe that would’ve made him feel better.

“Nesta, not now,” Cassian stated.

“Not now?” she screeched. “Should I do it after I take the non-bride-to-be back to the hotel? And where is my sister?”

Az looked at the eldest Archeron. “She left.”

Realization donned her face. “Well, I hope you’re happy now, Azriel.” Turning on her heel, she left the three males out in the parking lot. He deserved her fury, he reminded himself. Az had hurt her friend and her sister. Nesta had every right to hate him.

Now in his hotel room alone, he nursed a glass of whiskey, his bowtie undone and hanging around his neck. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he turned it back on and waited for his notifications to come up.

And then one popped up that had his heart racing. A voicemail from Elain.

He sat up straight, set his glass and phone down on the table, and pressed the speaker button to play the recording.

Her beautiful voice filled the room.

“Hi, Az. It’s me. I just got back on the plane and I’m thinking about everything. I hated leaving things the way we did. You came to me saying all these things and I wasn’t expecting you to show up like that, and I was just afraid of getting hurt again. So, I fled, and I know I hurt you in the process. And I’m so sorry because that was never my intention.” She sniffed and gods, it hurt him to hear her upset again. “And I didn’t even get to tell you that I love you too. Because I do, I love you.”

He made a soft, pathetic sound. His throat ached with unshed tears and he had to tip his head back against the couch.

“I love you,” she said again. “I love you. What am I doing? I love you. I love you. I need to see you. I have to get off this plane.”

“Oh my god,” he breathed, looking down at his phone sitting on the tabletop. He heard some rummaging around and then—

“I have to get off this plane.”

“Ma’am sit down.”

“Miss, please. I just need to tell somebody that I love them.”

“I can’t let you off this plane.”

Az, in his own world, shouted, “Let her off the plane!”

“Please, you don’t understand!”

“Try to understand!” he cried.

“Oh, come on, miss! Isn’t there any way you can just let me off—”

The line went dead as the voicemail cut out. “No, no, no! Did she get off the plane?” He tapped his screen like it would hold all the answers.

“I got off the plane.”

He whirled around, and there she stood, keycard in hand. Azriel didn’t utter a sound. No, he just moved to her. His long legs swallowed up the space between them in a few strides until shoved the door behind her shut, cradled her gorgeous face between his scarred palms, and kissed her senselessly.

Elain melted, whimpering against his mouth. She dropped her bag and the keycard on the ground in favor of sliding her fingers into the hair at his nape, securing him to her.

His lips worshiped hers, tongue tracing the seam and begging for entry. When she granted him access, he took every advantage, sweeping in to claim her mouth. He kissed her until every thought eddied from either of them. Until they were panting for breath. Until he knew he conveyed every emotion, every feeling of his love for her into that single encounter with her.

She pulled back, resting her forehead on his. “I’m so sorry, Az. I’m sorry I left you there.”

He shushed her. “You’re here now. I’m sorry it took me so long to have the balls to tell you that I love you.”

Elain chuckled, eyes lined with tears. “We have a lot to figure out.”

“We will,” he told her earnestly, taking one of her hands from his neck and spreading her palm across his chest. “Together. Because I’m never letting you go again, Elain. I’m all in. If you’re moving overseas for a new job, then I’m going with you.”

She gaped at him. “What about your job?”

He shrugged. “I’ll get a new one. The point is, is that whatever and wherever life takes you, just know that I want to be right by your side. Forever.”

Elain let out a choked sound. “I love you, Azriel.”

His thumb stroked her cheek, wiping the tear that fell. “I love you too, Elain.” When he kissed her again, Az saw his entire future line up in front of him and finally, it felt right.

~~~~~~

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[azrielshadowsingerweek]

Azriel Shadowsinger Week 2022 starts tomorrow, have fun everyone!

[leiaamidala]

I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.

 ⊱❊⊰⁣⁣⁣

⁣⁣⁣⤞ art by @artyventurer

⤞ commissioned by me

@azrielshadowsingerweek : Wishes for the Future

⊱❊⊰⁣⁣⁣

Do not repost, please.

[lady-riel]

Gwyn: The jig is up. Your shadows told me your secret.

Azriel: Which secret?

Gwyn: You know which one.

Azriel:

Gwyn: The one you’re most afraid of me finding out. 

Azriel:

Azriel: 

Azriel: 

Azriel:

Azriel: Nice try.

[tswaney17]

Here we go. Fast phone fic with no editing:

Ash arrows rained down but he somehow managed to use the reserves in his siphons to shield him and Lucien as they ran. Whoever gave them away in the Autumn Court would die.

Slowly.

Painfully.

By the blade of the dagger strapped to his thigh.

But he’d deal with that later. Because right now, he just needed to get him and Lucien back to Velaris. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he barked out as they tore through the trees. Branches bit at their skin and clothes.

Lucien’s head snapped in his direction. “And how do you want to do that while we’re being fired upon, shadowsinger?” he panted.

Azriel bit back his retort as he edged closer to the Autumn Lord and grabbed him by the forearm. Mustering as much power as he could, he pulled them both into the shadows, the winds tearing at their bodies and faces until they landed on the terrace of Rhys and Feyre’s estate.

“Fucking hell. I’ll never get used to that,” Lucien muttered.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, we didn’t have time for you to winnow forty times across Prythian.”

The other male snarled at the insult. Their relationship was tenuous at best, especially given the fact that Azriel was in love with Lucien’s mate and the redhead had no idea.

Entering the sitting room, they were ambushed by his High Lord and Lady. Azriel launched into a quick debrief when he heard her feet—knew she made it purposeful. Elain could be silent when she wanted to be.

The door was thrown open and there she was. Beautiful as he remembered with golden-brown hair and stunning doe eyes. Eyes that swept over his form and took in every bump, scrape, and bruise on his skin. She marked everything, noting what she would need to apply a salve to later.

His possessive side warmed at the fact that she didn’t even bother glancing at the other male in the room.

A sound came out of her and then she was running right for him.

Azriel caught her; barely managed to throw his wings out, knocking a vase off a shelf in his attempt to steady them as she launched into his arms, legs around his waist, hands sliding around his shoulders to secure herself to him.

“You’re home,” she cried into his neck, her tears dampening his skin.

He gripped her under one thigh, the other around her back as he buried his face into her hair to inhale her luscious honey and jasmine scent. Azriel didn’t care that they had an audience, or that nobody knew of their relationship. He only cared about his girl. His love in his arms right now. “I’m home,” he murmured.

A scoff broke through his happiness and he turned to find Lucien staring at him. “Well, that’s one way to tell me you’re sleeping with her.”

Az snarled, tightening his grip on Elain’s thigh. She clung tightly to him as his shadows swirled around them protectively. He’d fight like hell if it came down to it. Both her mate and his brother who was glaring at him.

But Lucien just waved a hand. “Relax. I could smell the jasmine on you and was just waiting for you to tell me.” He nodded at the Shadowsinger. “I’m sure you can give them the details of the mission for now. I’d like to bathe first.” His attention fixed on Elain and Azriel couldn’t help but flex his wings—peacocking as she so politely called it. A small, known smile crept on Lucien’s face. “We’ll talk later, Elain.” Without another word, he strode from the room.

He didn’t dare look at his brother, not wanting to have that conversation tonight. But he could feel his gaze like a brand on his skin.

Feyre, sensing the shift in the mood, grabbed Rhys by the arm. “We’ll let you two get reacquainted. We can discuss tomorrow.”

After dragging an unwilling High Lord from the room, they were finally alone. “I missed you,” Elain whispered burrowing further into his embrace.

He softly smiled. “I missed you, too.” Kissing her deeply, Azriel realized that when he was with Elain, he never felt more at home.

~~~

It’s Azriel Week, Free Day somewhere, right? 💙🦇

@azrielshadowsingerweek

I need a scene where Azriel and Lucien are in the same room (before we get any broken bonds). Then Elain sees Azriel and runs straight into his arms. In front of everyone. Ugh I NEED this to happen. I need this not only for Elain, but for Azriel.

Like this:

Ya know?