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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 days

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Bluebird — Azriel x Reader — Part IX

Summary: Deciding to accept Azriel's offer, Reader's world as they know it is about to change. In more ways than one.

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Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Some suggestions of smut and heavy petting, but nothing too major!

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Azriel stared out of the huge wall-length windows of the River House, watching shadows move in the sunlight that bathed the estate.

He hadn’t been to bed.

In the mere hours since he’d left the human realm, leaving Y/N, their conversation and his offer behind…his mind was too crowded to sleep.

So he’d come to the River House, wind still clinging to his skin and clothes from hours of aimlessly flying, and found his family gathering for breakfast.

“Where have you been?” Cassian had asked him.

“Just flying.” Had been Azriel’s explanation. The questioning looks he’d earned in response had told him they all suspected something more was going on with him.

And how right they were. He didn’t know why he was being cagey, why he couldn’t just be open with them about the human woman who had utterly captivated him—

It was scary, he supposed. To step out of the bubble they had around them, just the two of them.

But if Y/N did agree to come across the Wall with him…it was time to be open, honest.

As if on cue, a kick landed on his shin. Amren.

“Cassian is supposed to be the absentminded one, shadowsinger,” she drawled. “Are you present?”

Cassian grinned at the jibe. “Someone’s grumpy because she’s hungry. Poor baby.” His eyes slid to Azriel, ignoring Amren’s glare. “Our miniature friend is right, though. What are you daydreaming about?”

Azriel became acutely aware of every present pair of eyes on him. Rhys’s. Feyre’s. Cassian’s and Mor’s, Amren’s and Elain’s. If Nesta had been present, she’d probably have stared, too.

Az cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. Never comfortable with so much attention on him. “There…uh…”

Rhys frowned, realising, at once, that whatever this was held weight. “Az?” he angled his head.

He must have been pale, because Feyre frowned and asked, “Azriel, are you well?”

He didn’t know why he was fumbling this so much. Perhaps because for all he loved his family, for all he’d stared centuries down with them, his feelings were things that he’d always kept tightly locked away, and they had respected that. If he wanted them to know something, they would know. If not, they wouldn’t ask. It was how it had always been.

But this was different.

He was serious about Y/N, and his first step in proving that was to tell those closest to him about her.

He cleared his throat again, bracing his arms on the table. “There’s something I want you all to know.”

“We all know you have the biggest wingspan, boy,” Amren speared a slice of melon. “It’s hardly breakfast conversation—”

“Amren.” Mor cut her off brusquely. She was staring intently at Az. Could tell this wasn’t the time for jokes. “Go ahead, Az.”

Azriel clenched his fists at his sides. “I…I have fallen for someone,” he swallowed a lump down, far out of his comfort zone. “I’ve fallen in love with someone. A woman. A human woman.”

Silence.

The faces of his family gazed back at him, a mosaic of expressions varying from surprise to confusion to the twitching of baffled amusement. They were waiting for an explanation, or some indication that this was a rare, random joke that Azriel had decided to crack. And Az found that he couldn’t bear them considering that. He squared his shoulders, the severity not moving from his face.

“Her name his Y/N,” he continued, heart thudding in his chest. “She hails from a village in the human lands, and she’s magnificent. She helps run her father’s inn. She plays piano stunningly…” stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. Facts were just spilling from his lips, dumping themselves on his friends. He clamped his lips shut, squeezing his hands together again.

And once more, silence.

Until Cassian peered closely at him and stated, “You’re not joking, are you?”

The shadowsinger shook his head. “No.”

Rhysand’s chair creaked as he sat up straight. “Well…how did you meet this woman?”

“When you sent me to the human lands to get an idea of the unrest there. I heard her playing piano late at night and I…I went back to hear more. And I kept going back, despite you telling me not to. I’m sorry for going against your order, Rhys, but I’m not sorry for the reason that I did.”

The High Lord and Lady shared a glance, clearly communicating mind-to-mind. Az wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they were saying.

Mor cleared her throat, coaxing Az’s eyes to her beautiful face. There was kindness there, warmth. “And you say you love her, Az?”

“I do, Mor. Since I first met her, I’ve fallen harder and harder.” His cheeks burned a furious red. “I can’t deny that that is what I’m feeling. And that’s why I want to share this with you all.”

The initial shock seemed to dissipate a little as shoulders around the table relaxed. Mor smiled broadly, and Cassian quickly followed.

“No way,” the Illyrian General chirped. “That’s amazing, Az.”

“We’re happy for you, Az, of course,” Feyre added. “Just a little surprised.”

“You should bring her here to meet us,” Amren grinned, flashing white teeth. “If she can hack it.”

Her remark was as close as she would come to congratulating Azriel — but the sentiment was there, hidden amongst the words.

Of them all, Elain was the only one who hadn’t spoken.

And Az…Az, for some reason, avoided looking at her.

“Funny you should say that, Amren,” he quickly said. “I’ve invited her to come here tonight, after she’s closed up the inn. I want her to see Velaris at night, in all its brilliance.”

“So we’ll get to meet her,” Mor grinned wider. “This is great—”

“If—if she’s available to come, that is.” The shadowsinger quickly cut in.

Because he had to be realistic and still consider the possibility that Y/N would reject his offer. And if that was the case…well, he couldn’t bear to think of it right now.

He certainly couldn’t bear to share that particular detail with the others. Not just yet.

“Well,” Rhys offered a smile, “if she is available, we’ll be delighted to meet her, Az. Really.”

“Yes,” Elain’s voice, soft and unconvincing, finally drifted around the table. “We will.”

At the same moment, Azriel’s gaze drifted to take her in. She looked…shocked. Perhaps a little perturbed.

But for what reason? She and Lucien were giving things a go. Shouldn’t Azriel be able to do the same?

He tore his eyes away from her, dipping his chin in quiet acknowledgement of her comment. That was all he could offer right then.

“I hope she comes,” Feyre commented, sipping her drink. Her voice was bright, enthusiastic.

“So do I,” Azriel agreed.

Gods, he really did.

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Ale sloshed over the lip of a tankard, joining the smattering of droplets that were already coating the floor and making it sticky. The rowdy men in your line of sight didn’t seem to notice the mess they were making amidst their rowdiness. They’d been here a good few hours, now. Their eyes had long turned glazed, their speech slurred.

It was all background noise.

Background noise, as you stood behind the bar, staring into space. Time was ticking by, the clock hands crawling steadily closer to when Azriel would arrive and wait for you with hope.

Ten o’clock chimed. Two hours to go. Were you going to join him? You weren’t sure. You’d been contemplating it the entire day, on so few hours sleep. You’d gone through the motions, done your jobs, been that normal, plain young woman who was in charge of The Bluebird Inn. You’d compiled pros and cons in your head, the list of them growing with each thought.

Pros and cons, however, seemed not to come into a situation driven so heavily by desire.

You wanted to believe Azriel so badly — believe that he was good. Was it so out of the question that such a thing could be the case? It didn’t diminish what you had seen out on the road with your father, but…

But after weeks of no contact, having Azriel close enough to touch last night…it had you hoping, once more, that both things could be true. That the world was not so black and white, and there was colour out there, a world of colour that Azriel could fly you right into—

Before you realised what you were doing, your hand was grasping the bell behind the bar. You tugged at the rope, causing a distinct ringing to cut through the arrogant raucous of the men.

“Last orders!” you called.

Every pair of eyes swivelled to blink at you. “What?” One man asked.

“Last orders,” you repeated.

“But it’s only ten o’clock! You don’t close until midnight!”

It was an effort not to roll your eyes. This group had been here since they’d stumbled in from their day’s work. The idea of cutting their drinking short was inconceivable to them.

But you were going. You were going to join Azriel, and go across the Wall, and experience things you’d never experienced, whether it was a good idea or not.

“I’m closing early tonight,” you gave a shrug.

The brute that had been spilling ale all over the floor gaped at you. “Why?”

Good question. You couldn’t exactly tell them the truth, and if this was going to get back to your father, you at least needed a valid excuse—

“I’m unwell,” you tried unconvincingly. “Sorry.”

Swine-like eyes narrowed on you. “You don’t look unwell, girl.”

“…It’s my cycle.”

A silent pause. And then, in an instant, every man in the room was on his feet. You tried not to smile in triumph; it worked every time.

They couldn’t leave quick enough, as though, if you truly were on your cycle, it was somehow contagious. You saw the last customer out of the door and bolted it shut. Waited until their chatter disappeared into the distance before you turned and began a frantic cleanup mission.

This was…mad. Truly, thrillingly mad. A reckoning of sorts, you imagined, because crossing that boundary from one realm into another was like sealing a fate. There was no coming back from this — this, that was not merely dipping your toe into the world of the fae, but submerging yourself in it, taking a deep gulp of air and disappearing beneath its surface. A nerve-wracking prospect, but…also an exciting one.

And didn’t it prove to you that you still trusted Azriel at least a little? You had to, surely, to be so willing to take his hand and let him pull you into the unknown.

Perhaps…perhaps you were tired of having that little bit of doubt. Tired of wondering what might be out there, beyond your meagre existence. This trip would surely put those doubts to bed, one way or another.

Two hours until Azriel’s arrival seemed both too much time and not enough at all. You filled it with your usual closing duties, making quick work of tidying up and making sure the inn was spotless. Afterwards, you would ordinarily spend some time at the piano, or simply retire to bed. Tonight, your feet carried you upstairs to get ready.

You combed your hair and changed your outfit choice too many times, not once recognising the girl who stared back at you in the mirror. She was somebody bold and daring — somebody willing to question what she’d always known.

And you wanted to be her, no matter the fears twisting your stomach.

Once ready, there wasn’t much time left to wait. You quelled your nerves by knocking back a glass of whiskey and welcoming the burn. Your eyes stayed on the clock. Eleven-thirty. Thirty-five. Forty. Fifty-five.

When you heard the distant chimes of the village clock announcing midnight, you felt that familiar sensation of awareness. Like an ember under your skin, it burned, and it spread.

You wiped whiskey from your lips and slipped out of the door, stepping into the courtyard. You were cold, despite the warm night.

And even colder when you felt the gust of air that came from a descending figure, landing feather-light in front of you.

Azriel was almost too beautiful to bear.

You stared at him with an intensity you couldn’t keep a lid on. And he stared back at you, took in your shirt and breeches, your braided back hair, your shoes. He clocked within a second that you were dressed to go out — a breath of relief forced its way out of him.

“You’re coming?” he breathed, and then shook his head, seeming to remember his manners. “Sorry. Hello.”

You swallowed. “Hello.”

He paused. Dared a step closer. “I half expected to find you in your nightgown. Or to not see you at all.”

“I…contemplated it. Not coming, I mean.”

Another step. “And what tipped the scales in my favour?”

You sucked in a breath, inhaling his scent. He was close enough to touch, now, and the smell of wind mixed with his natural aroma, creating a dizzying concoction that, for a moment, had you forgetting how to speak.

You shook yourself out of it, blinking a few times. “I think I’m tired. Tired of…only knowing what I’ve been told. I think it’s time I saw things for myself.”

Azriel’s broad shoulders seemed to relax a little. A beat passed of heavy silence, heavy eye contact. He stared at you like you were the only person left in the entire world.

And then you jolted just a little, as cold, scarred fingers touched yours in a light, tentative brush. He waited to see if you would pull away.

You didn’t.

Those fingers explored more. Wrapped around yours. Laced with yours. And then Azriel was holding your hand in his.

“Let me share my world with you,” he whispered.

Maybe it was the weight of his hand, or maybe the raw pleading in his tone. Whatever it was…you knew you didn’t need any more time to consider.

“Yes.” Was all you managed to respond. “Yes.”

Just like that, Azriel was yanking you closer, pulling your body flush to his. You waited to feel your feet leave the ground, for him to lift you into the air.

It took you a moment to register that his arms were winding around you tightly in an embrace. That it was a hug he’d so fiercely pulled you into.

He held you, both firmly and gently, his chin pressed to the top of your head, his hand cradling the back of it. You were stunned, stiff as a statue — but then you were sinking into his hold and welcoming its security, its…passion.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” Azriel murmured, pulling back to gaze at you. “Truly — thank you. For trusting me with this.”

“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” you pointed out. “I just want to see for myself…if what you’re saying is true.”

But even as you spoke, you knew it wasn’t that simple. Heading across the Wall with Azriel was sealing a fate far bigger than you’d stopped to consider. Whether you were ready for it was anyone’s guess.

The shadowsinger took your words in his stride, nodding. His hand found yours again. “Shall we go?”

You were really doing this. The idea made your head spin.

But you did not pull away. You did not run back inside, no matter how much a tiny part of you screamed at you to do so. Perhaps you were stronger than that now.

“Yes,” you nodded, and braced yourself. “We shall.”

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Flying was precisely as you remembered — exhilarating and terrifying and cold. The night sky eddied past you in a star-streaked blur, and you were soaring, hurtling forwards towards a world unknown.

You and Azriel did not speak. He seemed content to leave you in your thoughts, though you felt his gaze on you more than once, drinking you in. You couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. Whether he deliberately chose to press you firmly against him and rub soothing circles into the small of your back, or whether it was a subconscious thing.

You closed your eyes at one point, focusing on the feeling of the chilled wind on your face.

But it was another feeling that had you suddenly alert. Opening your eyes again.

It was hard to explain, but…something like a staticky charge crackled and sparked. You knew that the Wall was not a physical thing to behold, but rather an invisible barrier…yet somehow, you knew that was what you were feeling. Like a huge sign in bold, screaming at you: TURN BACK. DO NOT COME ANY CLOSER.

“I can feel it, too,” Azriel spoke into your ear, as though he’d read your thoughts. It was the first words that had left him since he’d carried you to the skies, and they were soothing and warm against you. “It’s the magic. Those who built the Wall abhorred the idea of humans and fae alike crossing over. I think the feeling it offsets is supposed to repel people.”

You held onto him a little tighter as the feeling grew stronger. “Clearly it doesn’t work.”

“No.” His eyes found yours. “Not when there are such enticing reasons to cross.”

You were thankful that the wind put a stop to the furious blush that crept up your neck. You stared forward, and Azriel’s arms tightened around you, and you knew that you were about delve into another realm.

“Ready?” he murmured, before that charge thrust its way through your body like a bolt of lightning.

It was brief and yet nauseating. Your stomach lurched, your head spinning. And then, as if clearing fog, it was gone. You had the distinct feeling of being someplace completely alien — a place where the grass was greener, the scents richer. A place where magic was the blood in its veins, snaking through the ground beneath you and breathing vibrant life into the land.

But you had barely a chance to take in your surroundings before Azriel was coaxing your eyes back to him.

“Now that we’re in Prythian,” he said, seeming to visibly relax, “I’ll winnow us from here.”

You gave the briefest glance to your surroundings — a forest so like the many in the human realm, and yet also something more. The thrum of dangerous life seemed to lurk just beneath its surface, and with the moon bearing down on you, you didn’t much like the idea of waiting around to see what might emerge from the dark. You dipped your head into a nod, and Azriel’s arms tightened around you.

But before he could make a move, you were speaking, stopping him in his tracks. “There’s something I don’t understand.”

He paused, head angling curiously. It made a few dark hairs slide across his forehead, and the urge to reach out and touch the silken strands was a burning one.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“You want to show me your home, but why show me at night time, when the world is asleep?” Besides the fact that this was the only time you could sneak away from the prying eyes of villagers.

But Azriel’s mouth seemed to lift into a subtle, beautiful smile. One that was telling — but telling of what?

“Velaris does not sleep,” he said, and then you were disappearing into starlight.

A brief burst of darkness that lurched you from place to another. The feeling of both flying and falling, of being nowhere and everywhere all at once. And then your feet were suddenly on solid ground.

You didn’t realise you’d closed your eyes until the sounds hit you first. Distant music, mingled with crisp laughter. The sounds of enjoyment, fulfilment. You snapped your gaze open to put a picture to what you were hearing.

You went so preternaturally still, you could almost be mistaken as fae.

You must have been perched upon a viewpoint, to see the city in its entirety like this — but not too far up to miss the details. Restaurants teeming with activity both inside and out front, gatherings of customers who talked and smiled and laughed without a care in the world. Vendors selling their wares despite the late hour, peddling anything from food to wooden carvings to flowers. People wrapped in each other’s arms and dancing merrily to a song that a young female strummed on a lute in the busy street.

If not for the dark blanket of stars above your head, you could be forgiven for thinking it was daytime. Your shoddy little village was never this bright nor light, no matter the hour on the clock.

This was Velaris, and it truly did not sleep.

You stared and stared and stared, for so long that your vision began to blur and smear the lights below into swirling shapes. It was almost easy to forget you were alone, just you observing this beautiful, seemingly perfect world. But a hand touched your arm.

“Would you like to take a walk?” Azriel asked, coaxing you to look at him.

Such palpable hope sat within his gaze that you couldn’t bear to look away. And when you nodded your agreement, that hope shifted into damn near elation.

The city seemed to welcome you into its arms as you began a slow stroll right through the heart of it. Azriel gave you your space, always remaining a few paces away. You could have sworn, in your periphery, that you caught him clenching his hands now and then, as though he didn’t know what to do with them. As though all he wanted was to reach out to you.

But he left you to acquaint yourself with the sights and sounds and sensations of Velaris. Never had you been amongst so many fae, and you half expected them to sniff out your mortality, to turn and stare or even make a grab for you. If they noticed you were not one of them, they paid it no mind, barely casting you a glance. Some of them greeted Azriel cheerily as they made merry and socialised. Not a drop of misery seemed to taint the blood of this living, pulsing place.

You came to a stop on a grand bridge that arched over a glinting river, its waters stretching further out than your human vision could comprehend. Only a moment after you leaned against the carved balustrade, Azriel was emerging in your peripheral vision, stopping beside you and mirroring your stance.

You could feel his gaze on you. And after a moment, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

A slow, stunned shake of your head was all you could manage. That was a question that had many different answers. You weren’t sure which one to give.

But you found yourself turning to him, your brow pinched, lips parted. “I don’t understand how any of this works. What…what is this place?”

Velaris, obviously — you knew that much. But was the entire fae realm like this? Was this what had been hiding on the other side of the Wall in the centuries since it was established?

Azriel seemed to think on your question for a moment, combing through his answer. He angled his body towards yours, the way his hands twisted around each other hinting that he was…nervous.

“When I took you flying the first time, I mentioned that Prythian is divided into seven courts,” he explained slowly. “Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Dawn, Day and Night. Do you remember what else I told you?”

How could you forget? You’d turned it over in your mind enough that the words had begun to fray at the seams.

“You said you’re from the Night Court. That you’re part of the High Lord’s inner circle. You’re his spymaster.” Your gaze swept around. “So this is the Night Court.”

Azriel dipped his chin. “It is. But it’s a city in the Night Court. A secret, guarded city. There’s more out there than just this.”

“Secret and guarded? Why?”

For a moment, silence stretched between you that felt as long as the winding bridge. You found yourself focusing on the ebb and flow of the water beneath you, watching its languid dance. Until warm fingers landed on your arm.

The touch — tentative and gentle — coaxed your gaze back to Azriel. You studied him, drank in the sincerity and openness on his face. This was hard for him, you realised — to be so forward, to bare all. He was, perhaps, as guarded and secretive as this city itself. Perhaps more.

But his soft hazel eyes told you that he wanted to push through that difficulty. For you.

“It’s secret and guarded,” he answered huskily, “because it is beautiful and good, and the entirety of the Night Court is not. The entirety of Prythian is not. There are other places like this, of vibrancy and love and light, and then there are places of pure, evil darkness. Places that I would never dream of you venturing. They exist as truly as the good places do. As Velaris does.”

Once again, your eyes took in the area around you. On the other side of the bridge, a couple were hunched over a table, in their own world, sharing quiet words and quick kisses. A few buildings down, a group of friends roared with laughter as they spilled out of the door, arms around each other and happiness on their faces.

This place was beautiful. It was…life.

And the existence of darker places did not change that, did not steal its essence. Good and bad both simply existed. In people, and in places.

Just like in the human lands.

Just like Azriel had been trying to tell you all along.

“There’s good and bad everywhere…” you murmured quietly, the words sinking in, hitting home. How could you deny it when the people here clearly were not scared, not running and screaming and begging for their lives?

There was movement, and you felt Azriel’s side press against yours. “There is.”

And you could see it now, like a fog had been lifted. But there was still one pressing question that plagued you. One you couldn’t tamp down on as you angled yourself towards Azriel proper.

“Why bother, though?” you asked, studying him. “Why go to these lengths to prove this to me? You don’t owe me anything. Why…why would you bother taking the time to make me see this?”

Azriel gazed back at you, something burning in his eyes. He pursed his lips, like he was trying to force his words back down, trying to stop them spilling out.

A fight he ultimately lost.

“Because I am selfish,” he said, staring at you fiercely. “And I couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to see you anymore. Of you thinking I’m a monster. I would not care if anyone else were to think so, but…”

“…but what?”

“But not my Bluebird.” His voice was raw, raspy. He reached out cautiously, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Not my Blue.”

A breath shuddered out of you, and with it went your resolve. You knew you could no longer fight what been pressing you for a while, now. Could no longer deny what was right in front of you.

You cleared your throat, feeling the shivers that pulsed through your skin with Azriel’s hand still hovering so close to it. So badly, you wanted to lean into it. But you forced your gaze back to the brilliant city of Velaris.

“Life seems so lovely here,” you admitted, your voice surprisingly hoarse.

“It is,” Azriel concurred. “It really is. And you, Y/N…you deserve loveliness.”

You stared fiercely at the water, begging yourself not to get choked up. You’d never had loveliness.

A warm, comforting hand pressed against the small of your back. You shamelessly allowed it to.

“Would you like to meet my family?” the shadowsinger asked.

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You were going to be sick — and not from the flying.

Your feet touched down on a beautiful, ornate estate — grass trimmed and decorated with fountains, ornaments, decorative hedges. Trees and obscure plants and beautiful flowers. Never had you been anywhere so grand.

And before you — a huge, stunning house of pillars, winding staircases, giant windows and just…pure opulence. It intimidated you just to look at.

“This is…this is where they live? Your…High Lord and High Lady?” The words felt foreign on your tongue.

“It is.” As Azriel stepped up to your side, you realised his arm was still wrapped around you. “Did I ever tell you she used to be human — my High Lady?”

Your gaze shot to him in a flash. “What? How is that possible?”

“It’s a long, elaborate story that I’ll allow her to tell you, when she feels like it. But it’s true — she and her two sisters were once human, and they were all turned fae.”

A thought that set your heart thudding at a gallop. Had they once been lowly village girls, like you were? You hadn’t considered that you might have anything in common with these people.

“Shall we?” Azriel’s arm tightened around you, and you welcomed it. You needed the grounding comfort.

With a deep breath and a nod, you allowed yourself to be led up the broad stone steps that trailed up to the mammoth front entrance. You followed Azriel’s lead, wide-eyed as he opened the front door like it was his home, also, and led you inside.

The interior was, unsurprisingly, as decadent as the exterior, but you found yourself too nervous to take in any details beyond polished marble flooring and huge, painted portraits that hung on the wall of beautiful beings. You did, however, stop to take in the portrait that was undoubtedly Azriel.

“Feyre — our High Lady — is an artist.” Azriel stopped beside you. “She painted all of these.”

“And a damn excellent artist, too.” Behind you, a voice of pure, cloaked night echoed through the giant room. It added with a hint of glimmering humour, “Not that I’m biased, of course.”

You turned at once, knowing that such a voice could never come from a human. Your heart almost stopped at the sight of the male who leaned against a carved arch, and you blushed furiously at the thought that he could probably hear such a thing.

He certainly resembled Azriel, in his golden skin and dark hair. But his eyes were of a stark, peculiar shade — violet — and his ears very much pointed. Something about the smug ease with which he stood screamed at you that this — this was the High Lord of the Night Court, looking regal in a black button-up shirt and dark trousers.

And beside him, a woman — female — of such otherworldly beauty, it was hard to imagine that her golden-brown hair and blue eyes had ever been dulled by mortality.

“He is biased,” she said with a soft smile, fondness in her eyes. She drank in the sight of you, and there was no judgement, no disapproval — just simple curiosity. “Y/N. Welcome to our home.”

“This is Rhysand and Feyre,” Azriel explained beside you. “High Lord and High Lady.”

“Rhysand?” The High Lord echoed jovially. “You sound like Feyre when she tells me off. Just Rhys will do,” he sketched you a flourishing bow, “and as my beautiful mate said — welcome to our home.”

“I…I’m afraid I don’t know the customs, where greeting a High Lord or Lady is concerned,” you cleared your throat. “But thank you for having me.”

Feyre smiled warmly. “You’re very welcome. Shall we get a drink? The others are waiting.”

Your stomach turned with nerves, but you nodded. As Azriel stepped forward, falling into stride with Rhysand, Feyre stayed behind, turning to you.

“It’s nerve-wracking, isn’t it?” she smiled at you gently. “I had already been turned fae when I first came here, but…I can’t imagine coming here as a human who’s never had much to do with our kind.”

Our kind. Clearly her mortal roots were but a distant memory.

“It is,” you agreed. “This is…hugely out of my comfort zone.”

“Just stick with me, Y/N. But you have nothing to worry about.” Her smile grew. “We’re all just happy that Azriel has found someone. Even Elain.”

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Even Elain. What the hell did that even mean?

It stuck in your mind as you held yourself through introductions, your curiosity such that you were waiting for an Elain to be introduced to. But through the names that were thrown at you — Cassian, Amren, Morrigan, Nesta — that one did not come up.

The tiny Amren was terrifying despite her small stature, and yet you found her quick wit and remarks to be personable. Morrigan — Mor — had invited you to sit with her the second the introductions were over, and she seemed almost…excited by your presence. Cassian was jovial, warm, quickly making it clear that he would joke and banter with you as much as he would with his family.

Ironic, then, that the least forthcoming with any warmth was Nesta — who surely could relate to your humanity, even if her own was long gone.

She’d barely spoken to you beyond a terse greeting. And since then, she’d stared you down from the other end of the table. You couldn’t help noticing that her eyes continuously darted to the round edges of your ears. You couldn’t read the ferocity in her gaze.

It was an effort to ignore it as conversation bloomed around the table.

“So he was just hovering above your inn like a little creep?” Cassian’s broad grin was savage, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he plied you with questions. “You should have shot him down with an arrow. Taught him a lesson.”

Your lips twitched as you answered, “Somebody else saw to that. I just ended up helping him.”

“Boo.” The Illyrian warrior snorted. “How boring.”

Beside you, Azriel rolled his eyes, but a soft smile played on his lips that told you he rather enjoyed the teasing. You couldn’t help relaxing at the…normality of it all. How easy and light and warm this conversation was.

How naive you had been, to assume that the fae were simply cold, severe beings. The furthest thing from this loving family unit. It didn’t even seem to be a bizarre circumstance to them, that they had been gathered to meet at such a late hour. If not for the huge windows letting the night sky in, you’d be forgiven for thinking that their energy and enthusiasm was indicative of day time.

“From which village do you hail, Y/N?” Feyre asked you, sipping from her wine. You’d tried not to stare too long at the casual intimacy between the High Lord and Lady — the little touches you so naturally wanted to mimic with the male beside you. She added, “Perhaps Nesta and I would have heard of it.”

At that, Nesta lifted her chin a little. You could have sworn a glimmer of curiosity streaked through her eyes, there and gone in an instant.

“Northern Swancross.” You answered, eyes darting around the opulent dining room. “It isn’t anything grand. “Most of its residents are living in poverty.”

Feyre sipped her drink, offering an understanding nod. “Perhaps too far north for us. I don’t recognise the name—”

“I do,” Nesta said sharply — the first time she’d really spoken to you. “I remember reading a pamphlet once, about fae attacks on human villages. Northern Swancross was named in regards to an attack there a couple of decades ago.”

Silence and stillness filled the space that conversation had lit up moments before. Your mouth went dry. You felt the cool touch of a shadow caressing your arm.

“That would have been my mother,” you answered, clearing your throat.

Nesta stared at you a long moment, a slither of what seemed to be…solidarity…seeping through the cracks of her icy reception. She lowered her chin in the slightest of dips, and somehow, you knew exactly what that minute gesture communicated. We have both suffered at the hands of the fae. And yet, somehow, here we both are.

“That’s awful,” Rhysand’s voice cut through the moment, quiet and laced with sympathy. “I’m sorry for the loss of your mother. We all are.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

“Nesta, Elain and I also lost our mother,” Feyre supplied. “To illness, rather than to the fae. But we understand what the loss of a parent is like. Many of us here do.”

A kind and heartbreaking sentiment, and yet all you could focus on was the mention of that name again. Elain. She must have been the third sister.

You didn’t know why you felt such preying curiosity about her standing in this group…or her standing with Azriel, and why her support for his happiness was a thing Feyre felt was worth mentioning. You couldn’t stop yourself wondering if her absence was a deliberate thing.

As if she’d read that thought, Feyre cleared her throat. “You’ll have to forgive Elain’s absence. She’s not much of a night owl.”

“Despite living in the Night Court,” Cassian added, and his booming chuckle at once chased away the tension that had seeped into the room. He grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his glass. “So tell us more about you, Y/N.”

You did exactly that — and found yourself peculiarly willing to do so. Such a sheltered life you’d lived with no one to truly call a friend, that it now seemed that years of pent-up conversation came flooding out of you. And as hours ticked by, pedalling closer towards morning, you found yourself relaxing, forgetting that you were human and they were fae. They were just…people. Kind, good people.

And in turn for the information you shared with them, they told you about themselves, answered your questions, explained things you didn’t understand. Mor spoke to you like she’d known you for years rather than minutes. Even Nesta’s reservedness began to thin into something more cordial. One-by-one, the High Lord’s Inner Circle pulled you into its fold as if a place for you had been carved there for a very long time.

They did not balk — not even a little — at the idea of you being of worth in Azriel’s life.

Azriel himself was largely quiet throughout the night. He seemed to take a backseat and allow you to navigate this situation as you saw fit, only interjecting with comments and responses every now and then. But at your side, he remained a solid, steadfast presence, his shadows a thing of comfort. And the urge to lean against him as the night wore on was a pressing, growing one.

You didn’t want to resist anymore. Didn’t want to take a step backwards. You’d seen what he’d wanted to show you, and there were no more weak excuses you could come up with as to why your involvement with Azriel was a bad idea.

You wanted him…and you were done denying yourself him.

It was only when the night drew to a close that you began to feel the tiredness waiting on the edges of your mind. Nesta was the first to leave, and soon after that, everyone else was standing and saying their goodbyes.

“You’ll come back soon?” Feyre asked you, her hands squeezing yours. She seemed genuinely thrilled that Azriel had brought you here.

You glanced at the shadowsinger beside you, a smile playing on your lips. “If he’s willing to bring me.”

A soft, low chuckle sounded in Azriel’s chest. But there was nothing comical about the way he promised, “Whenever you want.”

Bidding the High Lord and Lady goodnight, you descended the front steps with a lightness that you hadn’t felt upon arrival. Tonight had been…easy. Simple. There was nothing more to it than merely getting to know Azriel’s friends. Getting to know Azriel’s world.

And when the doors closed behind you, it was just you and him alone, for the first time in hours.

He strolled at your side, back through the opulent front garden. Neither of you seemed to know who would speak first.

Until you turned to him and said, “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Az stared back at you, pausing for the slightest of moments. “To the River House?”

“And to Velaris. To…to Prythian.” You, too, paused. “To the truth, I suppose.”

His chin dipped just slightly. “You deserve the truth.”

A few paces forward, you walked in silence. It wasn’t until you were under the canopy of a huge, overhanging tree that you pressed your back against the trunk and allowed yourself to stare at him. Properly stare at him. To take in his beauty.

He stopped a few steps away, asking, “What?”

So many things you wanted to say. I’m done fighting this. I’m done fighting us. I want to dive further into this world with you. I want you, Azriel, whatever the hell that means for me—

“Who is Elain?” The words spilled, unplanned and undignified, from your lips. Your eyes shuttered for a moment as you regained your composure. “I mean…I know who she is. I know she’s Feyre’s and Nesta’s sister. I just mean…who is she…to you?”

Azriel was still for a moment, his brow pinching slightly. He took a step closer. “She’s…a friend.”

“…just a friend?”

“I…I won’t deny that I wondered, at one time, if she might be more than that.” His scent hit you as he continued to step closer. “But she has a mate. And I wondered that before…before I met you.”

The bark of the tree bit into your back as you held yourself firmly, grounding yourself in the moment. You inhaled a small breath, trying to ignore the dizziness that his general proximity seemed to provoke. But as he stepped closer still, now mere inches from you, you knew you were fighting a losing battle.

Still, you lifted your chin and stared up at him. Stared, as he closed the gap between your two bodies and pressed you further against that tree, his body seeming to line perfectly with yours despite your height difference. His breath tickled your neck as he leaned into your ear.

“Were you worried about that, Blue?” he asked huskily, a smile in his voice.

You couldn’t control the way your breath hitched in your throat. Lie, save face, deny it, your mind screamed at you. You weren’t sure you currently had the mental capacity to do so.

“You said you’ve had lovers,” you rasped back. “I was just wondering if, perchance, Elain had been one of them.”

A mix of both relief and disappointment filled you as Azriel pulled back — not far, but simply enough to stare sincerely into your eyes. His face was open and soft, despite the teasing that had been in his tone.

“No.” His tone was a promise. “Elain has never been my lover. I don’t…I don’t want you to worry about that. About her.”

Your shoulders relaxed just slightly. But as your gaze began to lower from his, his hand was suddenly at your face, cupping your jaw, holding your attention firmly on him.

“It’s been a long, heavy night for you,” he murmured, studying you closely. “I want you to tell me honestly how you’re feeling.”

Perhaps the most loaded question he could have asked. You swallowed, slowly shaking your head. “I…I’m feeling lots of things. Relief…that what you told me about this place was true. Shame…that I was obstinate in my ignorance—”

“You do not need to feel one bit of shame. There are always two sides of the coin—”

“And fear. I feel scared.”

Your words lingered between the two of you, truthful and unwavering. They were out in the open, now. You found yourself not wanting to keep them to yourself.

“I feel scared,” you repeated, “because I have nothing to hide behind, now. I can’t run and deny what I feel. You’ve shown me the truth, and I…I can no longer deny my own.”

His hand still cupping your face, Azriel brushed his thumb over your cheek. His eyes remained fully trained on you, not willing to look away for a second.

“There is no going back from this night,” you whispered, staring back at him. “And I’m glad about that. But I’m also so scared.”

“I don’t ever want you to feel scared. Not with me.” His hushed words, spoken quietly for your ears only, landed on your lips. “I just want to make you happy, Blue.”

It took a moment for you to realise that the soft noise that sounded — a small cry of both relief and need — came from you. You couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. You were done with resisting.

Your hand cupped the back of Azriel’s head, and you pulled it down, slanting your mouth over his. At once, he hummed against your lips and moved his hands to your waist, pulling you closer against him.

This was everything. Azriel was everything. He just wanted to make you happy, and you wanted to make him happy, too. He was not fae or a shadowsinger or a huge, imposing figure with wings. He was just Azriel. Your Azriel. Your salvation.

The male you were so, so glad to have been proved wrong about. The male you were falling in love with.

Your tongue pressed against the seam of his lips, and he parted them for you, allowing you to dip inside. At once, his taste mingled with yours, and you moaned softly, your hands grasping at him, wanting to feel him against you as you kissed him harder, fiercer.

And he kissed you back just as ferociously. You may have been inexperienced, but you knew the taste of desire on his tongue, and you knew exactly what you were feeling when he hardened against you, his arms banded around you.

“Blue,” he broke away, panting. His eyes were glazed as he stared down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily. “We’re getting carried away. Tell me what you want. I need to know what you want.”

Him. All of him. Every single inch of him.

Your eyes trailed down to the hardness that was unmistakably outlined through his leathers. Such stark hunger bolted through you that it sent shivers coursing down your spine. Had wetness pooling between your legs.

And from the way Azriel’s nostrils flared, and a deep, guttural noise vibrated in his chest, you could only guess that he’d scented it.

You pushed up onto your toes, brushing another kiss to your mouth. A light one that he seemed ready to get lost in, before you were pulling away, your eyes clashing with his again.

“I want you to take me back to my home,” you told him breathlessly, your fingers biting into his leathers. “And I want you to stay.”

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Not one bit of the journey was memorable. Not the flight back to the Wall, or that brief flash of darkness as you were winnowed from there, right back into the taproom at the Bluebird Inn.

Your only focus was on Azriel. The feel of his body pressed against yours, and how…how it would feel even better when you both rid yourself of clothing.

And gods, you were nervous. But you could feel in your very bones — you were ready.

This night had, indeed, been a reckoning. This night had, indeed, changed things forever, and made you realise that you had no good reason to deny yourself of the brilliant fae male who consumed your every thought.

You trusted Azriel. You wanted Azriel.

And when both your feet and his touched the wooden flooring of the inn, your eyes clashed only momentarily with his before you were pulling his face down to kiss you. And kiss you, he did.

It was hot and greedy and desperate, a kiss that could wait no longer. He made a low noise against your mouth, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards and pressed you against the bar. It was tongue and touching and too many clothes, and you were done waiting, done thinking, as you dragged a trembling hand down the firm feel of his leathers, down and down until you were cautiously folding your palm over the bulge in his pants.

You had no idea what exactly you were doing, but the way Azriel gasped against your lips seemed to be a positive reaction. One that only spurred you on further.

Even without properly seeing him, you could tell he was huge. Your hand barely fit over what pressed through his breeches. You explored the length of him, wishing that clothes weren’t in the way. That it was just skin on skin.

Azriel let out a choked moan — one that seemed pleasurable. Until he pulled away.

“Wait, Blue,” he panted, staring down at you. “Just…tell me you’re sure.”

You had gone past sure. Sure wasn’t a strong enough word. Sure was nothing against the certainty that roared in your veins.

“I am,” you promised, applying pressure with your hand. “Show me…show me what to do, Azriel.”

It was a pure, animalistic growl that broke from him then, and in one swift movement, he was lifting you up and carrying you over to the bar, perching you atop and slotting himself between your legs.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he kissed you. Kissed you again. Kissed you harder. “I promise, my bluebird.”

“Please,” you begged softly, grasping at his leathers. “I want you.”

Kisses deepened, turned more ferocious. Hands wandered, began roaming, exploring. You felt the cautious touch of a hand gliding over your breast, warm fingers permeating your shirt. You gasped, arching into the touch.

Perhaps that was why you didn’t hear it. Perhaps you were so distracted, so hungry for the male before you, that the quiet footsteps that approached were heard by neither of you. Not even by Azriel’s fae senses, his shadows.

No, you were both oblivious until a cold, stern voice filled the room.

“Y/N?” Devin stood against the doorframe, not taking his eyes off Azriel’s giant form. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

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berryzxx · 2 days

Text

To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part

Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate

Note: FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST be nice<3. also yes i will be reverting to fluff again. its my little cosy corner :) Also ty so so so much to @sarawritestories, literally an angel and helped me with this idea GO READ HER FICS BITCHES. @thelov3lybookworm, @fell-in-luvs @sweetorangeblossom @throneofsmut

@riddlesb1tch @milswrites TYSM for the help ily all. I'm never writing angst again <3

The dry, bland taste of the oats coated Azriel's tongue and he fought to swallow it down. A fight similar to his will to get out of bed every morning. Also similar to the fight of carrying on each day.

Mindlessly stirring his food which had now gotten cold he thought about what he would do for Star fall next week. Maybe he would get drunk so he wouldn't remember the night. Or maybe he would go up to the balcony to get the "best view" but in fact sulk in a corner because he didn't have a special someone to share the night with.

Pulling himself back to reality and berating himself for being ungrateful and forgetting about how much his family had done for him, Azriel watched one of his shadows depart and slowly move across the table until it had reached the open French doors. He tried calling it back but to no avail. Taking a deep breath Azriel continued eating, his shadows were always up to something. Maybe it was bringing back important information. Like maybe who his mate was.

His heart became heavy again at the thought. Still no mate. Azriel had seen so many things, lived through so much and sometimes he thought he deserved a mate. Sometimes when he wasn't so absorbed in self hate he thought to himself maybe he did deserve a mate like Rhys had Feyre or Cassian had Nesta. The thought left him as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head, he didn't deserve a mate. He would ruin her. He wasn't good enough. No where near good enough.

Scoffing at himself for even going down the path of thinking he out of all people could have a mate, he carried on eating his oats, finishing them in record time to get to training with the Valkyries and the priestesses.

***

"Isn't that your shadow?" Nesta asked pointing toward a lone shadow which was making it's way back in to the house, moving across the training ring floor and the edges of the walls before it disappeared completely. She was laying down on the mat, sweat dripping down her face. It had been an intense training session, Nesta having started to channel her anger into physical exercise resulted in Azriel having to hold the punching pads tighter than usual. He was happy for her. Glad she was better now and getting used to her fae body.

"It is" Azriel replied, his confusion increasing slightly. They were acting extremely strange. And the one that had left this morning still hadn't come back. Not to mention the shadows still with him were dancing around as if they were waiting for something. He shrugged it off. It was probably a new bakery or some drama from Velaris they had picked up on. Nosy pricks.

Nesta's silver eyes held concern, "Are you okay?" She bit her lip there was something like recognition in her eyes, as if she once held the same vacant stare that he did. "Are they usually like this?" Nesta questioned again, sitting up and trying to read his expression. He shook his head, flipping his water flask upside down to realise it was empty "They'll come back eventually"

She stood up and brushed her clothes down "You could get it checked. I heard Madja's working late today"

Azriel tried not to get angry. It wasn't as if she would know how it was basically impossible for any healer to ever help him.

"We'll see" He replied instead, already brushing the idea away. All he'd get was an afternoon wasted and a whole lot of poking at his back and wings. It wasn't that big of a deal. Well...that's what he hoped.

***

Flipping the dagger in his hand he began to sharpen the other side, making sure it was as sharp as possible so it would make a clean cut. He didn't need more blood on his hands. Well more than usual anyway. Looking to his right he saw Cassian stretching out his wings and yawning "I'm off to bed. Don't stay up past your bedtime" He grinned. Azriel shook his head a smile on his face even though the joke wasn't funny.

"I won't" Azriel lied. Cassian looked at him for longer than usual as if trying to figure something out. Of course he didn't. Azriel's secrets were too well hidden.

"I'm here if you ever need to talk" Cassian said resting a hand on his shoulder. Azriel gave him a rare smile and patted his hand "I know brother"

Leaving him to sit peacefully on the roof Azriel looked up at the sky. Automatically his eyes searched for the one star constellation he loved. Lyra it's name was. His mother had pointed it out to him when he was young. Said it was one of the constellations that would never leave him. Sometimes it felt like this constellation was the only stable thing in his life. Something that would never leave him and so far it was living up to it's reputation.

***

All fucking night his shadows had been restless, moving about and not letting him get one minute of sleep. Yes he ran on 4 hours of sleep perfectly fine but his shadows didn't even let him close his eyes for one minute without being irritating. Not to mention his shadows from previously hadn't come back. What the fuck was their problem?

Finally giving up he went down to the kitchen, drank a glass of water and stomped upstairs on to the balcony. His shadows were still making incessant noises and moving around too much for this early in the morning. Azriel walked over to the edge of the roof, standing on the edge and freefell down down down.

The air hit him at the perfect angle and gods did he wish he could keep falling. If he hadn't opened his wings at the right time he would have died but who really cared? It was just him after all.

He flew over Velaris, the sun barely visible resulting in a still and quieter city at this time. Not to mention it was Saturday, most of the fae probably nursing their hangovers right now. He veered left toward the Sidra, going past Feyre's bright and cosy artists corner, following his shadow at a leisurely pace as it stopped in front of what seemed to be a row of houses. They were bright and colourful, pale pinks and bright blue's, pleasing to look at. Settling on the roof of a house opposite them he watched the sun rise, his shadows finally calm. It felt like his heart was calm too.

A few minutes of sitting led to one of the rooftop doors opening and......and Azriel couldn't describe what and who stepped out.

She was a goddess.

She was the fulfilment of his dreams.

She was the most ethereal fae he had seen.

She was...gods words couldn't describe her never ending beauty. Moving toward her flowers towards the right of the roof she began to water them, her soft brown hair falling forward and covering her face slightly. His heart hurt. He didn't know why.

He could stare at her for an eternity. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her pink lips looked like they could say the sweetest words. Like they could soothe any pain he had from one whisper of her sweet voice. He swallowed.

He wanted to talk to her. Enjoy her company. Make her smile. Make her laugh. Watch as her eyes brightened because of him.

He could change. For her he could, he thought to himself as she stood up from watering the roses and looked at the sun rise too.

Her cheeks held a slight blush, hair dishevelled as though she had just gotten out of bed. Azriel was cataloguing each and every thing about her, storing it into his memory to cherish.

Clenching his fists and readying himself, memorising what he would say to this oh so gorgeous female he extended his wings.

Softly landing behind her, he felt like his tongue was twisted. Her hair fell in waves down her back, her arms wrapped around herself.

Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat. She whipped round and it felt like time stopped.

Her hand rested on her chest and her eyes were wide with surprise. Beautiful. That was all that went through his mind as he drank her in, looking at each and every perfect feature.

"Who are you?" His heart felt like it would burst from happiness. Her voice was music to his ears. She had straightened up slightly, her shocked expression gone as she patiently waited for Azriel to speak. He didn't want to. What if he messed it up?

"Azriel. Sorry I....I didn't mean to invade your privacy I-" He cleared his throat cursing under his breath for his stupid twisted tongue. Her lips turned up in a small smile as if she was encouraging him, waiting for him to finish. Like she actually cared for what he had to say.

"I just saw you watching the sunset- not that I was watching you...I meant I just saw you here-" A small laugh escaped her as she watched him struggle. He knew one thing. It was that his heart was no longer his. It was hers. His soul belonged to her. His broken and bloody soul was hers however much it had gone through.

Falling in love was impossible he used to think but looking at her now, he thought it possible.

He was so busy in trying to memorise her face he didn't realise his shadows from earlier swirling around her wrists and waist as if they had found their home.

"It's alright. Lets watch the sunset together, the view's gorgeous from here" Her soft voice beckoned him closer and as she turned back around her arm knocked one of the vases. She turned around trying to grab it and in that split second, she fell.

Over the roof and down to where Azriel couldn't see her.

His heart raced as he ran to the edge and jumped down onto the concrete floor, using his wings to slow his descent.

He had heard the sickening thud when she had fallen but he refused to believe it.

He watched as her lifeless body lay there.

Still.

The life in her completely gone. Silence rang in his ears, his throat closed up, he wanted to rip out his heart. Why?

Why?

Why was all he could think about it as he looked at her broken form. Blood pooled from her head, a puddle of deep red gathering around her hair. His shadows swarming around her, frantically trying to do something.

Maybe if he weren't so useless. Maybe if he had any dignity or shame he wouldn't have stared on and could have helped her. It felt like his voice was lost.

He looked at her dead eyes and when he did it snapped. The golden thread sparkling between the two of them, connecting them, before dying out again. The moment of completeness vanished in a split second.

Mate.

She was his mate.

He let out a tortured scream, his own voice ringing in his ears. His legs weakened as he dropped to the ground next to her, his energy depleted.

Tears slipped down his face and for the first time he didn't wipe them away. Didn't berate himself for crying because this....this was a tragedy everyone should have cried over. But instead it was only him watching her once smiling face lay face down on the concrete.

Why was it him? He hadn't even gotten to see her smile properly because of him. Hadn't been able to hear her speak completely. Hadn't heard the sweet words she was sure to voice if he ever got the chance to get to know her.

His eyes wouldn't leave her body as he choked out sobs, eyes blurry and wanting to look away from her limp body at the same time. His....His mate.

The word left him feeling empty. All he wanted was right in front of him except she was gone. She was dead and it was because of him.

His hands shook, his control slipping away as time passed, slowly reaching for her. He gently touched her hair ever so softly as if maybe she were sleeping and she would wake up. Slowly moving it to the side, he could finally see her beautiful beautiful face. A face which had been removed of all colour and life.

A strangled sound escaped him as he looked on unable to tear his eyes away. His heart fractured into so many pieces he didn't know what he'd do anymore. How could he live without her? Life wasn't worth living without her.

His mate.

Tears made his vision blurry as he tried to memorise her perfect features. She was a poem he would never be able to memorise. She was the dream he was always so far from reaching. She was his except she wasn't. Not anymore. Because she was gone.

He wished he could take her place. Wished he had died after seeing his mate. He would have died happy. Finally would know what true happiness was before dying.

Any alternate way of living his heart didn't know how to. Without her in his life he couldn't search for any reason for continuing on.

Gods he didn't even know her name. At the thought of this his lips pressed together trying to stop the heart wrenching scream he wanted to release. He didn't even know her damn name.

His mate.

His mate who was lying dead in front of him. Looking down at his hands he saw they were shaking, so was his body. He didn't deserve to live. This perfect female in front of him wasn't able to live her life so why should he, a broken and unlovable torturer?

The glint of his dagger beckoned to him. It would be oh so easy to end things now. Stab himself through the heart and lay down, lifeless just like his mate. At least they would die together. Taking out his dagger he looked at. Really looked at it.

The fates had known.

This was why he had sharpened his dagger. For this exact reason.

If his mate didn't deserve to live neither did he. He lifted the dagger, tears streaming down his face, his heart broken in too many places to fix, no one left for him in this world. Looking at his mates face for the last time he pushed the dagger straight into his heart.

Fitting ending he supposed. After all the killing he had done, he had ended his own life. Blood seeped from the stab wound but he didn't care. He tried to touch her face one last time, extending his hand, but he couldn't. Because he had collapsed onto the cold floor next to her, unable to touch her for the first and last time.

He was damned. His fate was unlucky.

He was a bastard who didn't deserve anything.

Without even realising his shadows had left him too.

"LYRA" A heart wrenching scream echoed in his ears as the blood emptied out his body. That was his mate's name.

Lyra

If he were still alive he would have smiled and cried at the irony of it all but he wasn't. His eyes now stared straight up as his heart no longer pumped blood.

A fae walking past would see it as a tragedy but it was more than that. It was a man who would never get a happily ever after no matter how much he wished for it. It would be a story passed down to generations. A story with no happy ending.

***

If only Azriel had known that he was in fact loved. That he did have people that held him close to their heart

If only he had known.

Rhys who was waiting in his meeting room for their debrief.

Cassian who had set up a game of chess for him and Azriel to play.

Nesta who thought up new techniques for fighting that she would show him the next morning.

Feyre who was painting his portrait in her art studio.

Nyx who was waiting for his favourite uncle to come home so they could fly together.

Little did they know Azriel would never come home again.

....first and last time writing angst :) if u can even call it that

->Masterlist <-

tagging: @hijabi-desi-bookworm @lilah-asteria @fxckmiup @minnieoo

@kennedy-brooke @daycourtofficial

#berrywrites #azriel angst #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #acotar series #azriel fanart #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadow singer x y/n #azriel spymaster #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader

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xmalfoyweasleyx · 2 days

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Batboys x reader headcanons/thoughts: having a nightmare

Warnings: none, except nightmares, just fluff and cute Illyrians :)

Rhys

Rhys would softly stroke your hair, trying to wake you up. “Hey baby, wake up, it’s me... you’re okay.” You startle awake, immediately going in a sitting position with tears in your eyes. He strokes your back gently, tracing little patterns on your skin while sitting up next to you

He always helps you by taking calming breaths together. He would grab your hands and count with you, “one more deep breath, good girl.” That man praises you SO MUCH!!

And when you calm down, Rhys would be the kind of person to not let you sleep immediately, he would talk to you and ask about the dream. After a while you both start to talk about other things, a soft conversation in the comfort of his arms. Eventually you fall asleep mid conversation.

I know for sure he would watch your peaceful face for a while when you sleep, slowly drifting off too.

I also think Rhys would feel guilty about the fact you get nightmares so frequently, so that's why he fights to stay awake, to be sure you are comfortable when you fall back asleep.

Cassian

This man always sleeps so deep, but when he feels your foreign shifting in the tight grip of his arms, he awakes eventually.

Cassian would sooth you by kissing you all over your face. Soft kisses starting on your cheek, than your nose and other cheek. “Don’t worry baby, I’m here, everything’s okay”. He literally can’t stop pampering you with kisses.

When you realize it was all just a nightmare, silent tears of relieve fall into your cheeks. “Cassie, ‘m sorry for waking you up again”

“No no, never apologize for that baby, come here” he quickly says. He would not let you feel guilty about this kind of things. He grips the back of your head and pulls you into his chest. You snuggle into his warmth. He smells like a warm day and something sweet, like caramel.

“I love you sunshine” he whispers into your hair

“I love you too, my sweet Illyrian warrior” you answer and he can only chuckle in response because of the nickname.

Azriel

When you’re like best friends but so in love and he is working late on something, he hears you screaming. He rushes into your room, worried something happened. When he sees you asleep, he whispers your name softly. You wake up. “Are you okay?” he asks.

He is so worried but wants to give you space too. You on the other hand, want him to stay. “Please, Az, can you stay?"

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, love?” he says hesitant. “I could make you some tea?”

“Please, just for a moment, come lie with me” you plead. I feel like it wouldn’t be the first time Az sleeps next to you for comfort. Sometimes it’s the other way around and you sneak into his bed, always toying with the loose curls of his dark hair. “Okay sweetie, only for a moment then” he complies. He lays in bed beside you, his warmth so welcoming and comforting. You lay your head on his warm chest and he kisses your hair.

Sleep finds you quickly when Az is so close to you. He always wraps is his wings around you and sometimes you feel his thumb, stroking just above your hips. Thanks to your comofting smell and the softness of your skin on his fingers, he falls asleep too

And ofcourse, he eventually stays the whole night

Would you all like it when I include Lucien and Eris too? Lucien is one of my all time favourite characters and there's not enough of him on this app!!! But I’m scared I don’t know enough about Eris? :(

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #azriel #cassian #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #batboys #batboys x reader

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flickering-chandelier · 9 hours

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The Best Thing That’s Ever Been Mine

Pairing: CEO Azriel x Coworker Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been dating for a while, effectively keeping it a secret at work, despite their frequent make-out sessions. When a different coworker asks Reader out, Azriel gets very, very jealous.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: Az gets a little possessive, some very brief smutty moments

Word Count: 3.7k

Anne, the secretary, called your name, poking her head into your office. “The boss wants to see you.”

“Thank you,” you smiled faintly at her, smoothing down your skirt under your desk, schooling your face into a neutral mask even as heat rushed through your body.

Tapping your foot, you waited impatiently in the empty elevator, going to the top level where you made your way to the CEO’S office.

You knocked on the door and he glanced up at you briefly before his eyes landed back on the stack of papers on his desk. “Come in,” he said.

Once you stepped over the threshold, his eyes darkened as they met yours again. “Close the door,” he said gruffly, authority dripping from every part of him.

Slowly, you closed the door behind you.

Eyes locked on yours, he stood up, rolling up his shirtsleeves as he stalked toward you, revealing his muscled forearms.

He stopped when he was toe to toe with you, his body towering over yours. He reached behind you and locked the door.

In the next moment, his hands were on your face and he was kissing you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you clung to him.

His lips trailed down your neck and you moaned softly, unable to hold it in. He covered your mouth with his hand, smirking into your skin. “If you can't stay quiet, I'll have to send you back to your desk.”

You nipped at his hand with your teeth and he laughed quietly, spinning you around and backing you up toward his desk, his mouth back on yours.

When your ass collided with his massive wooden desk, he lifted you up and sat you on top of it, spreading your legs wide and stepping between them, all without breaking the kiss.

His hand ran up from your calf to your thigh, under your skirt.

“Az,” you warned, breathlessly.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his hand pausing its ascent, his thumb drawing soothing circles on your skin.

A knock on the door made you both freeze. He sighed into your neck in frustration before silently, expertly helping you to your feet, smoothing your clothes, your hair.

By the time Azriel casually said, “Come in,” you were seated on opposite sides of his desk, looking for all the world like two coworkers who were having a professional meeting.

Azriel nodded to you politely as the intruder entered his office: your cue to leave.

You stopped in the bathroom before returning to your desk, dabbing cool water on your face, on the back of your neck.

A year ago, when you had started working here, you remembered meeting your CEO and thinking that he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. You had spent months daydreaming about him, longing for him to notice you, for him to linger by your desk or look at you during a meeting.

Then one day, it happened. At the end of the day, you were getting on the elevator on your way out and he was in it. Alone.

You stood side by side, your heart pounding. Standing so close to him, the realization hit you how massive his body was compared to yours, and you couldn’t help but glance at him as you made the descent down to ground level.

He cleared his throat, and your eyes whipped to him. “You look nice today,” he said.

Immediately, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you said, feeling breathless.

When the side of his mouth turned up into a half smile, you simultaneously realized that you had never seen him smile before, and you would do just about anything to make him do it again.

His eyes bore into yours, alight with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place.

Quietly, he said your name, taking a step closer to you.

Azriel must have seen the lust written all over your face because he jabbed the hold elevator button with his thumb, not taking his eyes from yours as the elevator lurched to a halt.

Another moment later and you were being pushed against the wall, his hands on your neck, in your hair, his lips devouring yours.

“Is this okay?” he said against your lips, and you could only moan, could only wrap your arms tighter around him.

That night, you ended up at his massive penthouse, tangled up in his sheets.

You had been together ever since.

It was thrilling, if you were honest with yourself. Azriel had thought that it would be best to keep your relationship a secret at work. You had readily agreed, not wanting to deal with the potential backlash of people finding out you were sleeping with the boss.

The first time the two of you made out at work after the elevator had been a bit of an accident. You really did need to go to his office to talk to him about something. It was confidential, so you had closed his door behind you.

…And as soon as the business was over, the pleasure started. He had smirked at you, pulled you into his lap, and kissed you senseless.

After that, it became difficult to avoid. Any time the two of you found yourselves alone together, one of you was pulling the other into a kiss.

The fact that you had never been caught only spurred you on further. You did admit that sometimes it got a little reckless.

But that was all part of the fun.

Unfortunately, you didn't see Azriel for the rest of the day, though you did get a lot of work done because of it.

That evening, you were peering into your near empty refrigerator with a frown, when you got a text.

Azriel: Come over.

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

You: What's the magic word?

Azriel: Pretty please come over.

You: Much better. 😘

Azriel: So you're coming?

You: I haven't eaten yet…

Azriel: I'll order whatever you want.

You: !!! I'm leaving now.

Mere moments after you knocked on Azriel's front door, he had you pinned against the wall with his body, his length prominent against your ass, his lips on your neck.

“Bitter about how things ended at work, huh?” You asked as his hand traveled up your bare thigh.

He growled into your skin. “You've been on my mind all day.”

“Oh yeah? What have you been thinking about doing?” You teased, pressing your ass further against him.

Immediately he flipped your dress up and pulled your panties down. You dug your fingernails into the wall as he unbuckled his belt.

You moaned, leaning your head back as he entered you in one fluid movement.

His hips slapped against you over and over again as he moved in quick, deep thrusts. You were both so riled up that it didn't take long for you to finish.

Once you were cleaned up and your clothes were back in place, he kissed you gently before taking your hand and leading you to his massive, unbelievably expensive kitchen that he never used.

Spread on the counter were take out bags from three of your favorite restaurants.

You looked at him pointedly and he shrugged, smiling faintly. “I didn't know what you wanted, so I got your top three.”

Laughing, you stood up on your tiptoes to kiss him again before getting two plates from the cabinet and opening one of the bags. “You could've just waited to order until I got here,” you said, handing him a plate.

“I couldn't let you go hungry after I ravished you,” he smirked.

You carried your plate to the table, and he sat across from you, falling into companionable silence as you ate.

After dinner, you retired to his bedroom. He had an entire closet of clothes for you there that he had slowly built up after you started dating. You tried to resist at first, but you had to admit it was convenient.

You changed into pajamas and cuddled with him as the two of you fought over the remote.

“Sweetheart, we watched your show last time,” he said, one hand on your chest to hold you back while he raised the other far above his head, changing the show you had put on to a documentary.

You groaned, flopping back against the massive mattress dramatically. “Az, you pick the most boring shows in the world. Can't you pick an interesting documentary about murder or something?”

He raised an eyebrow at you and you seized your opportunity, pouncing on him and wrestling the remote from his hand.

You rolled to the opposite side of the bed, cradling the remote in your hands and giggling while you changed it back to your favorite reality TV show.

Azriel let out a resigned sigh as he pulled your body back into his. “Alright, fine. You win.”

Grinning, you kissed him and settled into his embrace for the rest of the night.

The next morning, you woke up with Azriel's absurdly early alarm and swore.

“Hmm?” He asked sleepily, kissing you before he even opened his eyes.

“I didn't mean to sleep over on a weekday.”

“Why does it matter?” He mumbled into your skin.

“People can't see us showing up at work together.”

“I can call a car for you,” he said. “Or we can risk it and try to be sneaky,” he smiled, kissing a line down your neck.

“Don't you think we've been risking it enough?” You asked.

Azriel settled back against the pillows again. “I don't know. With you I feel pretty invincible,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and he laughed. “It's up to you,” he said, kissing you one more time before padding to the adjacent bathroom.

You followed him, stopping in front of your side of the double sinks, pulling out your toothbrush in tandem with him. He faced you as you both brushed your teeth, gently brushing stray hair out of your face. You shook your head, smiling lightly, though you did love this side of him, the one that could make any menial task feel romantic.

He kissed your temple after you had both brushed your teeth, and you took out the makeup and hair products from the drawer he had set aside for you as he stepped into the shower.

By the time Azriel was out of the shower, you were still finishing up your makeup. He stood behind you, smiling softly, watching your reflection as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on the top of your head, a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist. Even after all this time, he still gave you butterflies, still set your body on fire when he touched you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly.

You couldn’t help but smile. “You’re unbelievably hot,” you said, your voice teasing but your eyes alight.

He barked out a laugh before kissing the top of your head and sauntering back into his bedroom. “Good to know you still think so.”

Shortly after, your makeup was done and your hair looked presentable, and you joined him in the bedroom, where he was pulling his pants on, still shirtless.

“It was my first thought, you know,” you said, arms crossed, eyes intently watching his body, every ripple of the muscles in his forearms, his biceps, his stomach.

“What was?” he asked, looking up at you as he slung his shirt on, buttoning it up.

“The first time I saw you. All I could think was that you’re the hottest man I’d ever seen.”

His smile turned slightly predatory as he stalked closer to you, the top few buttons of his shirt left undone. “I know. I could see it in your eyes,” he murmured, bringing his hands to your waist, his lips drifting closer and closer to yours.

“You could?” you breathed.

“Well, I saw some kind of spark,” he said, slowly moving his mouth to your ear before playfully taking your earlobe in between his teeth. “I was hoping it was for me.”

Your breath came out in a soft exhale, your heart rate picking up speed. “We need to leave soon,” you said, trying to focus.

“Yes, we do,” he murmured, before kissing you softly, cradling your face in both his hands.

It took every bit of effort you had to gently push him away. “Get dressed,” you said breathlessly.

He laughed, reaching up and buttoning his shirt as you pulled out a skirt and blouse from “your” closet. “As you wish, my love,” he said, his eyes shining with amusement.

You couldn’t get enough of him that morning. So, you decided to take your chances and ride with him to work. His sportscar’s windows were tinted so extremely that nobody could possibly see in, and Azriel made it a point to always be the first one in the office, so you hoped that there wouldn’t be anyone around to see you get out of the luxury vehicle.

His hand rested casually on your thigh as he drove, and your eyes were glued to him. With his designer sunglasses, his pristine suit, his expensive watch, he looked like he should be on the cover of some magazine for rich men, making them all drool with envy.

Sure enough, the parking lot was completely empty when Azriel pulled into his reserved parking space.

He smirked at you, squeezing your thigh. “I told you it would be fine, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to give you a long, slow kiss.

You let yourself sink into the kiss, into the feeling of him, for a few beautiful moments.

After a bit, you went inside hand in hand, thankful for the empty hallways. In the elevator, he pulled your body to his, threading his fingers through your hair, kissing you until the doors opened.

He walked you to your office and lingered in your doorway, still holding onto your hand, giving you one more kiss before he went up to his office, shooting you a bright smile over his shoulder.

Through most of the work day, you didn’t see Azriel and kept to yourself in your office.

That is, until Spencer showed up, knocking on your door with a smirk before entering your office, leaving the door ajar. It was toward the end of the day, and most of the office had cleared out by then.

Spencer wasn't your favorite person in the office. He was a cocky asshole, to put it blatantly. Nobody really liked to work with him, but especially not the women. His ego was bigger than anyone's, though he had done absolutely nothing to deserve it.

“Hey,” he said with a crooked smile, leaning casually against the door frame.

“Hi, Spencer,” you said, trying to keep your voice mild. “What's up?”

“I was thinking that you and I should get dinner sometime,” he said, shooting you a cocky grin that you had seen him use on other women in this very office.

You raised your eyebrow, saying cautiously, “Like a date?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “If you want to call it that.”

Fighting the urge to scowl, you said politely, “No, thanks. I have a boyfriend.”

He looked annoyed, like he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. He blundered through a somewhat awkward goodbye before he left you alone in your office again.

As soon as Spencer's footsteps faded, Azriel was in your office, his eyes on fire.

“What,” you said, surprised, “Did you hear all that?”

He growled, kicking your door shut before he was taking your hand and pulling you upright, kissing you hard, his tongue and hands unyielding.

You gasped in surprise as he lifted you in his arms and set you on your desk, still kissing you relentlessly, his hands wandering over your thighs, your cheeks.

“Az,” you breathed, but he cut you off with another searing kiss.

“You're mine,” he said against your mouth.

“Of course I am,” you said, leaning back slightly, trying to suck air into your lungs.

“Say it,” he ground out before kissing you senseless again.

“I'm yours,” you gasped, clutching to him.

He pulled back finally, holding your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes. “And I'm yours,” he said.

“Az,” you said gently, running your thumb on his bicep in what you hoped were soothing movements. “I love you. You know that.”

“I know,” he said, breathing heavily. “I just-- that pissed me off. That guy really fucking pisses me off.”

You laughed, despite yourself. “Me too.”

He sighed, kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again.

“I'm sorry I got -- you know,” he winced slightly.

“You don't have to worry about anybody else,” you said. “You're the one I want.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing you softly.

Spencer must have really gotten to Azriel, because he took you out to an extremely expensive restaurant that night, and he didn’t take his eyes off you for a moment while you were there.

You couldn’t help but grimace as you looked at the menu, some of the prices for an entree were more than you’d spend on food in a week.

“Get whatever you want,” Azriel said, reading your thoughts.

“Az, these prices are ridiculous.”

He smiled faintly. “Get whatever you want,” he repeated, his eyes softening.

You sighed, and when the waiter came by, you did indeed get what you wanted.

As soon as you were alone, he reached for your hand across the table. “I am sorry about earlier.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I just don’t get why you got so jealous. Spencer’s a sleaze.”

Azriel laughed lightly. “You’re the most important person in my life,” he said, his eyes sparkling under the dim lights. “I love you. I don’t like that an asshole like him thinks about you.”

You ran your thumb along his hand absentmindedly. “I’m sure he’s already moved onto thinking about somebody else.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “He better have.”

For the rest of the evening, his hands were on you, like he didn’t want to let you go.

The following day, there was a mandatory meeting that Azriel was leading, one that both you and Spencer would be required to attend.

You didn’t think much of it. You and Azriel had been in countless meetings together since you had started dating, and the two of you had always been perfectly capable of remaining professional throughout them, never raising any suspicion that you knew of.

Azriel, as always, was the first one in the boardroom, sitting at the head of the table with his laptop open, a stack of notes next to it.

He smirked and winked at you as you walked in and sat down a few seats away from him.

“How are you today?” you asked pleasantly, as if you hadn’t woken up in his bed and already snuck up to his office once that morning.

“I’m doing well, how are you?” he said in his boss-making-small-talk-with-his-employees voice.

You nodded as a few of your coworkers wandered in, laptops under their arms. “Oh, you know. Can’t complain.”

Azriel turned his attention to the people settling in around the room, getting the pleasantries out of the way. This was a part of the job that he hated, you knew. He would much prefer to stay silent unless absolutely necessary, but he also wanted his employees to like him, to trust him.

Everything was pretty business as usual, until Spencer walked in and sat right next to you. Even from where you were sitting, you noticed Azriel’s muscles tense. There were half a dozen other open seats that Spencer could have sat in, and you were sure that Azriel was thinking the very same thing.

Spencer smirked at you as he opened his laptop. “How was your night?”

“Fine?” You said, using all of your focus to keep your eyes from flitting over to Azriel.

“Just fine?” Spencer asked, clearly amused. “Hmm. Sounds like it could've been better if you hadn't turned me down.”

Before you could form a response, Azriel cleared his throat, starting the meeting abruptly, his eyes practically burning a hole into the side of Spencer's head.

Azriel, who was usually so good at concealing his emotions, at wearing his face in a mask of indifference, was visibly ruffled. There was a slight edge to his voice as he updated us, his eyes narrowing slightly every time they drifted over Spencer.

You wanted to reach out to him, to try and bring him back down to earth, but you obviously couldn't do that.

When he turned the focus over to someone else who started updating everyone about recent developments, his eyes landed on you and finally softened a bit. You smiled faintly at him and he seemed to relax.

It was an effort to focus on the meeting, to not stare across the table at Azriel.

Later, when Azriel said you all were free to go, you jumped up and exited quickly so you wouldn't have to deal with any more idiotic comments from Spencer.

You hid out for a little bit before you deemed it safe to go up to Azriel's office. You knocked lightly on the open door and he looked up from his desk and nodded toward the door behind you to close it.

You closed the door quietly behind you and went to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning into you.

“It would be wrong to fire him, right?”

You laughed, leaning in to kiss him. “Yes.”

He sighed. “Right.”

Gently, you took his face in your hands. “Ignore him.”

Frowning, he said, “When he's making comments like that to you?”

“Yes,” you said, kissing him softly. “I can handle myself if he says something like that again.”

He nodded. “I know you can.”

For a few moments, he just gazed at you. “What is it?” You asked.

Smiling, he said, “It's just… I love you.”

Kissing him sweetly, you said, “I love you, too.”

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel one shot #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel fanfiction #azriel modern au #azriel ceo #request

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thatacotargirl · 2 days

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Shadows and Surprises (6)

Part 6 of Azriel x Reader fanfic!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: none.

Tag list - @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @minnieoo @st4r-girl-official

@courtofjurdan @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @impossibelle

@mybestfriendmademe @hauntedstudentobservationus

Azriel's POV

"There is nothing that needs to be done, Azriel".

Rhysand was trying to reassure the pacing Azriel that you were, indeed, safe in Velaris. He had provided you with unconditional refuge in the city in case your father or uncle tried to have you removed back to Illyria.

"She has refuge here, and they have no claim to her anyway. She is safe in Velaris, as is the child".

Azriel still felt the panic deep in his bones, and felt them shake when he was reminded of his child. It wasn't only you that needed protection now, it was his sweet unborn baby.

"Neither Darius nor Devlon can do anything about this", Cassian reassured him, but it didn't stop Azriel's pacing.

"We need to do something about this Rhys, he injured her, her cut off her wings".

"Az, believe me, if we could go and take them to the Hewn City right now I'd do it in a heartbeat - but we need to do this strategically. And we can't hurt y/n in the process".

Azriel knew Rhysand was right, but it didn't make it any easier to accept. However, fighting with his brother wasn't going to help him either, and he needed all the support he could get right now, even if he found it hard to admit that. He let his head sag in resignation that, right now, he could do nothing more.

"I need to speak with you both, actually".

Azriel raised his head to look at his High Lord, who looked paler and more withdrawn than usual.

"Feyre is in Velaris".

Y/N's POV

After another morning spent training with Cassian before he went for a meeting with Rhysand, you were exhausted. Cassian was careful to make sure you stayed within your level of comfort and kept hydrated, but there was no denying that being pregnant and trying to exercise with an Illyrian warrior was a tough feat.

You walked through the House of Wind to find it surprisingly quiet; with Azriel having joined Cassian in Rhysand's office for the meeting. It was a rare opportunity to find yourself in peace and quiet, with the three males doting on you every time you walked into a new room, so you figured you'd make the most of it and enjoy a quiet afternoon in the living room with a book.

You walked in and froze. There, sat on one of the sofas, was a female you had never seen before and who looked equally as petrified to have run into you.

"Hi, I'm y/n", you offer, keeping your distance from the female whose fear scented the air so strongly you had to hold back a gag.

"Feyre", she replied.

"Are you here with?....." you gesture behind you, trying to figure out why she was currently sat in the living room.

"Rhysand".

"Ah".

You avoid each other's eyes as you stand in awkward silence, not knowing how best to address the situation. It was at that moment that your unborn baby decided to make a move for the pair of you, and gave you a gentle kick. It didn't feel like much, maybe just a gas bubble, but one discernible enough that you knew it was the life inside you. You gasp and your hand flew to your stomach. Although your belly was hidden under the jumper you were wearing, you knew the scent of pregnancy was noticeable to everyone, and you watched as Feyre jumped into action.

"Are you ok?", she asked, reaching out towards you but not quite touching you.

"I think, I think the baby moved, maybe, or maybe it was gas, or both? I don't know I don't know what it's meant to feel like", you laugh as you hear your voice getting higher and higher with excitement and panic. Moments like this made your pregnancy feel so much more real.

You looked at Feyre, whose eyes had softened and fear had dissipated. Her hand was still outstretched in the air, so you decided to reach forward to take it and place it on your bump. At that moment, your baby decided to throw in another kick, and Feyre gasped as she too felt the very, very tiny flutter of your stomach.

"You're the first person to feel the baby kick", you smile at her. She returns with a warm smile of her own, her hand still resting on your stomach.

It is sometime later, the two of you sat engrossed in conversation, when the males walk into the room. You peer around the edge of the sofa and see Rhysand standing tall, shoulders back, face pale. He looked worried, stressed, and you can only guess it is because of Feyre. You giggle, the mighty High Lord being taken for a loop by the small female sat opposite you.

"I see you've met Feyre", he says, walking to stand in front of you both. Azriel and Cassian follow.

"I have, she's wonderful!", you exclaim, giving Feyre a beaming smile, which she gladly returns. Feyre looks at the Illyrians with apprehension, but you're pleased that the scent of her fear is nowhere to be found - if not for her, but for your own nausea.

Rhys looks pleased that you seem to have taken Feyre under your wing.

"Feyre will be staying here for the foreseeable future".

You sense a tension in the atmosphere, but you don't pry. It's not your place if they don't wish to talk about why Feyre is here and why Rhysand is standing before you both looking constipated. Cassian must notice the tension too, because he jumps into the conversation.

"Dinner, anyone?"

Mor wasn't around, so dinner was solely for the 3 males, you, and Feyre. You deliberately sat Feyre at the edge of the table with only yourself next to her, if only to comfort her. Azriel sat opposite you, Rhys opposite Feyre, and Cassian at the head of the table. Conversations were kept light, no mention of Feyre's sudden appearance in Velaris was made, nor any mentions of yours and Azriel's relationship. Feyre hadn't asked who fathered your baby, and you had no idea how to explain the situation, so you were grateful it hadn't come up.

You were talking to Feyre about a book you had both loved, when you felt a wisp of something in your hair. You reach your hand up and pull it back with surprise, as a shadow had wrapped itself around your wrist. You looked at Azriel, who looked equally as shocked.

Suddenly, a flurry of shadows entangled themselves in your hair, around your limbs, and brushing up against your stomach. You could see Azriel trying to draw them back, becoming more and more frustrated at their ignoring him, and you couldn't help the laugh that came out. Watching the notorious Spymaster of the Night Court flustered because his shadows were disobeying him was funnier than you cared to admit. You could see Rhys and Cassian trying to stifle their laughs, and Feyre watching intently as the shadows drew your hair up into different hairstyles and played with your necklace.

"They're ok, Az. Let them be", you cooed, letting the shadows dance around your fingers. Azriel gave up trying to command them back to him, and instead indulged in watching the way you interacted with them, almost like you were playing with them.

A few darted off out of the room and came back a few moments later holding onto a purple paper bag. You saw the way that Azriel paled and lunged for the bag, but the shadows dodged, dropping the bag on your lap instead. You looked up to Azriel, his eyes wide, and thanked the shadows for bringing it to you.

"Is this for me?", you asked. He nodded, but you could clearly see he was uncomfortable. You decided he'd been through enough tonight.

"Thank you, and thank you sweet shadows" you cooed at them, placing the bag on the floor. If it was a gift, Azriel clearly wasn't ready for you to have it, so you weren't going to embarrass him by opening it at the table in front of everyone.

"Dessert?" you asked, smiling at Feyre, trying to change the conversation. Azriel looked at you gratefully as Cassian pounced on the chocolate marble cake that appeared on the table.

You had subtly handed the bag back to Azriel at the end of dinner before departing for your bedroom. You were even more exhausted now, having not been able to get in an afternoon nap. You showed Feyre to her room, gave her a few of your favourite books that she hadn't read and a glass of water, and had settled in to your own bed. Just as you went to switch off your light, you heard a knock at the door.

"Come in", you called, thinking it might be Feyre. The Illyrian wings that filled the doorway told you otherwise.

"Az?" you asked, sitting up in bed. Azriel was standing in the door, clutching the bag in his hand.

"You can have this now. I didn't know when to give it to you, but I guess the shadows want you to have it today". He handed you the bag and you took it happily.

"They've never done that, you know".

"Done what?"

"Disobeyed me to go to someone else. They've never done that. They seemed enthralled by you".

You chuckle.

"Maybe because they know I'm carrying your baby?". Azriel looked away wistfully, before nodding.

"Yeah, that must be it".

You pulled the tissue paper out of the bag before your hands touched soft fabric. You pulled out a small bundle of black and unfurled it to reveal a teeny, tiny baby grow. The back had small slits to fit small wings and it adopted on a celestial pattern - with the words "Our Little Star" in silver embroidery on the front.

"I know you wanted the first piece of clothing the baby had to be special, I hope I didn't overstep".

The tears that had lined your eyes now spilled, and you opened your arms to engulf him in a hug.

"You didn't, Az. This is beautiful, thank you". You stayed like that for a few minutes, holding each other, before Azriel stepped back.

"I'll let you get some sleep".

"Ok, thank you again Az".

He smiled and left your bedroom. Your eyes fell to the beautiful baby grow and you held it to your chest, feeling more love than you had ever felt in your entire life. As if feeling it too, you felt another little flutter, and smiled to yourself.

You carefully placed the baby grow on your dresser and settled back down, your eyes heavy. As you lulled into a deep sleep, you felt the gentle caress of a shadow stroking your arm and, once you were asleep, it nuzzled itself into your open hand.

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of silver flames #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger x reader #acotar fic

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utterlyotterlyx · 3 days

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The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Ten

Summary - The meeting between Eris, Helion and Tamlin looms meanwhile further betrayal lands you in a place that threatens to break you completely.

Warnings - angst, depression, mentions of torture and trauma, ptsd themes, kinda a dark part to this series.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine

The one special spot in his heart had ached through the night, like somehow, somewhere, you were pulling at the rope wrapped around his heart and soul. Though, Eris couldn't feel you, not truly, all he felt was the occasional pang in his chest that he had convinced himself was you, that it was your way of telling him that you were still there.

It was the only thing he could grasp onto that would give him any amount of hope.

Eris hadn't been able to sleep that night, not when he knew that the chance of getting you out lay in the minds of two other males, on their beliefs and morals. Instead, the High Lord lay on his, your, bed, staring up at the ceiling with an arm tucked behind his head. The thoughts wouldn't stop speaking to him, ones of horror at what Rhys was doing to you whilst he sat safely in Autumn, thoughts that told him how unworthy he was for not moving sooner.

An entire night had been spent that way, from dusk till' dawn, from when the sun set to when the birds began their morning greeting. Light slotted through the still-open curtains, Eris hadn't bothered to close them the night before, knowing that sleep would not grace him anyway. Tension lingered in the manor, it clung to each and every surface it could, seeping into the bones of every object it kissed; it was one of unknowing, and it was putting Eris on edge.

Swinging his legs to find the floor, Eris sat there for a moment, inhaling deeply and attempting to centre himself; his fists were balled up in the cream bed spread that still held the faint scent of you, and he rocked back and forth gently, imagining the ghost of you wrapping your arms around his chest and pressing your lips to his shoulder.

Eris didn't know how long he had sat like that, picturing you straddling him with that smile he loved so much pulling at your lips. Eris was content in sitting like that for the rest of his days if it meant that a part of you was alive within his mind. A curt knock pulled him from the thoughts, and he didn't bother turning around when the door opened and Lucien appeared, "Helion and Tamlin will be arriving soon, just in case you wanted to put a shirt on or something."

Lucien had been trying his best to bring some joy to Eris' world since you had left, he thought that you would have wanted that.

A fleeting moment of silence encapsulated the air, then Eris turned his head to the side slightly, only by a couple of inches to make it clear that he was listening, "Lucien," Eris swallowed hard and from where Lucien stood, he saw his brother fight against the tears threatening to dampen his mask, "Do you really think that she'll make it back?"

The window of the bedroom had become more of a mirror to his dreams recently, he envisioned himself rising one evening after soft waves of your scent reawakened his land to look through that window and see you lingering at the end of the path that led to the manor. Each time he looked through it, he almost crumbled with the disappointment.

Lucien had moved closer to his brother, perching on the spot beside him and sighing, "I think that there is no world that exists where she would ever truly leave you behind," Eris' chin was bowed low, he didn't wish for Lucien to side the more vulnerable side to him, no one ever had really, no one but you, "Whether she knows of the bond or not, y/n loves you. Only a fool would be blind to it."

"I remember when I first met her. It was after you had found Feyre and I, when we had returned from the Night Court after that encounter," Lucien's eyes flickered as he recounted the memory, like the images were replaying in his mind, "I remember being intimidated by her, and all she did for a couple of days was observe me, watch me closer than I ever had been before. Then one day she sat beside me and handed me a book after not speaking more than two words to me, she said that she had found me in the library staring at the spine for a second too long and knew that I was intrigued by it so she went and bought me my own copy," a fond sad smile grew on his lips, then soft amusement flashed in his eyes, "She said no one could ever take a single book from that library without her permission, she had the entire place warded against it. It was then that I knew that she was meant to be in my life in some form, no one had really taken a moment to observe me in a way that mattered. It made me feel bad actually, I thought she was watching me to decipher if I was some kind of threat when actually she was figuring out the ways to help me feel more comfortable and adjust to the life I found myself living."

"She still kept her distance a bit, but I'd often find the odd title left on my bed or some kind of Spring Court baked good on my table. It was her way of showing that she cared, she was the only one out of all of them that really made an effort with me. You hear the stories of her, of how terrifying and monstrous she is, but then you stand with her for a moment and know that she is the most pure thing to ever walk this world," Lucien closed his eyes and dropped his shoulders, and he whispered, "I miss her."

Eris rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly, "So do I, brother. So do I." Eris sighed, the weight of the truth weighing down on him.

"I need to tell you something, about y/n." Eris felt the sidelong glance streak down the side of his face, "When she was Under The Mountain, Amarantha took a special liking to her, she knew that y/n is the most powerful being in Prythian, and she had a theory. Wings are the most sacred thing to Illyrians, they're basically entangled with their souls, and Amarantha suspected that she would be able to alter y/n's soul through them." A chill shrouded the room, "Amarantha placed the stone of a demon in her mutilated flesh the night she took her wings, believing it was a direct line to possessing her, to giving her body as host to the demon trapped within the stone."

"The Monster of Velaris is real, Lucien. It's just not y/n."

Lucien's mouth had gone dry the moment Eris had suggest that you had been experimented on, shaking his head, he demanded more information, "She is sharing her body with a demon? Does she know? How do you know this?"

Straightening his back and looking beyond the window, to the place he always imagined you to be, Eris blinked, and then answered, "Honestly? I don't know if she does," Then the cogs began to turn, "Rhys sent Nesta and Azriel on a mission before I brought y/n here, he sent them Under The Mountain. Nesta found a journal of sorts written by Amarantha on all the things that have happened to her. Things that happened before Amarantha even met her."

"What do you mean?"

Eris didn't want to say it, he didn't want it to be real, not because of his lack of love for you, but because what Rhys had done to both of you was cruel, and if you knew, it may very well shatter your light. And it threatened to shatter his light too.

"We are Carranam. Our bond flows deeper than just mates," he said as though being mates was a fickle speck in the grand scope of what he felt, "Our magic flows as one, our minds reach out for one another. I made her more powerful, more of a threat, and Rhys was ordered to wipe our minds of each other," his fists clenched in the sheets at the thought, "We were in love, Lucien. I always knew it was her, even when I couldn't remember her or our time together, I knew."

Eris was the only person that you had encountered that hadn't looked at you in terror and ware, he looked at you like some precious priceless antique, he admired you from afar and could only wish to one day be graced with some part of you. Eris had never been nor ever would be afraid of you.

Neither would Lucien. "And where is this book now?"

A nudging feeling knocked on Eris' shoulder, notifying him of the two presences that had slipped through the wards from opposite sides of the boarder. Eris rose to his feet, crossing the room and beginning to dress himself in the mirror that he occasionally found you twirling in front of wearing an array on new garments that now lay in the wardrobe in waiting, "It's in the library in the House of Wind."

But that moment wasn't the right one to talk of it, not when two High Lords were approaching the manor eagerly intrigued to know of the message scribed between the lines of Lucien's summons. The two Vanserra brothers had a role to play, a vital one that would allow them to have some form of hope, that would bestow them with allies to demand your freedom.

With a shaky inhale, Eris willed the mask of the High Lord of the Autumn Court to fall over his eyes and prayed to the Mother that it would be enough to save you.

It had become clear quickly that your presence in the River House was enough to make anything with sense scatter to the farthest reaches of the city. Not a single heartbeat other than your own could be heard, it thumped so intensely that it rattled the house.

Something didn't feel right.

A poisonous venom had seeped into your bones and mind, it threatening to wilt your soul and spirit, and for the first time in your life, you felt the darkness begin to salivate over the lightest part of you. The part of you that had always been untouchable, where everyone you loved lay safely.

Rubbing the spot on you chest over your heart, you frowned at the gentle tugging pulling at you, but you continued to ignore it the best you could. Like you had since the moment you stepped beyond the wards of Autumn.

The house had been watching you, reading you, and a small smile graced your face as you turned the corner to find a steaming bowl of soup and bread waiting on the countertop. No one is here to stop you, take it, the home seemed to scream, and you were happy to indulge the order. The hem of your skirt skittered along the floor and brushed against your skin as you stopped in front of the meal, inhaling the aroma of roasted vegetables, chilli and honey; you dived in right away, scooping the spoon left on the counter into the concoction and humming when it hit your lips.

Weak fingers curled around the edge of the surface, using it as leverage to keep you from crumbling to the floor at the first real nutrition you had consumed in what felt like weeks. Time had become scattered to the point where you weren't sure how long you had been locked up in that room or how long exactly you had been a prisoner of the Night Court.

Even looking at your reflection had become strenuous. You couldn't bare to see the sullen cheekbones or the pallid hue that had possessed your skin let alone the dimmed fire in your eyes. Even the twin tattoo of Azriel's had seemed to fade, on the brink of collapse and withering at the loss of fulfilment. There was no point in looking after yourself, you knew that the chances of making it out alive were slim regardless of the alliances made with Cassian and Mor.

A faint creak sounded through the house, an opening of a door, and you froze as a soft melodic voice vibrated through the home, "Hello?" It sounded so familiar, the voice held a certain softness to it, a softness you knew very well but couldn't quite place in your haze, "It's Gwyn," she wavered, "I just wanted to drop off some treats for y/n?" A footstep echoed as the priestess delved further into the home, probably feeling the icy atmosphere coil around her frame.

Without thinking, you stepped out from the threshold of the kitchen and winced when the basket between her fingers crashed to the floor, "Oh gods," Gwyn scrambled to repack the delicately wrapped treats back into the basket and did her best to pick every crumb from the carpet before placing it to the side and approaching you, tentatively, like she had found a wounded animal in the middle of a forest.

"Gwyn," your shakily reached for her and she slid her hands into yours, her warmth instantly soothing the ache within you for a kind touch, "Are you really here?"

Gwyn glanced to your neck, to the inky black veins poking out from the onyx collar locked around your throat, and then to your wrists where her fingers had licked against the same stone, "What is this?"

"Rhys put these on me, they block my magic," the stone purred against your skin, relishing in the life pouring into it, "I'm a prisoner here now, I can't leave."

"Rhys did this to you?" Rhys her High Lord? Rhys your brother by blood? Rhys?

Humming gently, you felt the air swirl, a soft caress from the house that sought to warn you that soon enough you wouldn't be alone, "Gwyn I need you to do something," he grasped her arms desperately, her blue eyes gazed at you with water gathered on the bottom lid but she nodded, "I need you to get a message to Nesta and Eris, they're at Fir Manor in the Autumn Court. You tell them that I am here and what Rhys has done to me, you tell them that I am turning people to my side. You tell them that I love them and that if I don't make it out of here then they have to know that there is no place they could go where I wouldn't be walking beside them."

The world rumbled and you knew then that the presence approaching was not kind or understanding, it was everything opposite of that, "Take the basket and go, Gwyn," you glanced to her, "Get out of here before he sees you."

Gwyn hesitated but turned and left, her braid flowing over her shoulder as she swept up the basket of pastries in her fingers on her exit. The girl was clever enough not to linger, and you mustered up whatever little power that still dwelt within you, the last speckles of magic left, to glamour her scent just as Rhys stalked through the back door.

Rhys sniffed the air and his pupils dilated before his gaze landed on you, his frail and hunched over sister stood in the doorway that no longer reeked of Autumn. The house had whisked away its offering before he had entered, leaving no remnants of its care toward you and returning to its usual position of bystander. A talon reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, it trailed down your cheek and along your jaw, then it grasped your chin and jolted your head to meet the gaze of its owner.

"Azriel tells me that Helion and Tamlin entered the Autumn Court this morning," his head ticked to the side and his eyes darkened, he drew you closer into his body, "Seems as though your friend is rallying support."

Azriel.

Of course he was still watching over Autumn.

It was foolish to believe that you could change his mind, it was obvious that he served the delusional thoughts and beliefs of your brother, the only one who did actually. Pain struck through your body, and if it weren't for Rhys holding you up, you would have sank to the floor.

Gone were the days of entering your room to find him propped up on your comforter reading a book. Gone were the days of his showering affections and ghosting touches, of his lovesick gaze and bright smiles. Gone were the nights at the cabin promising to always care for one another and planning your futures around one another. It was all gone.

Standing chest to chest with Rhys, you could see his eyes morph to black, and now that you were powerless it was enough to terrify you, and you felt yourself shrinking in his embrace, "I have no hand in what Eris does."

"I know that my sweet sister," he pressed his lips to your forehead and smiled at the chilled caress that met them, "It just means that I now have to move you somewhere much less comfortable."

"You're a psychopath."

Rhys' smile widened into a grin and his grip wound around you a little tighter, "I prefer creative."

The world evaporated in a kaleidoscope of colour, and then you were somewhere dark and cold, where the only sound was the occasional dripping from the open sky light that allowed little to no light into the room. A metallic stench clung to the air, it was moulded with despair and longing, a horribly dark and lonely aura encapsulated the space. Dark stone encased you, no windows existed bar the one that lingered a hundred feet overhead, and the only source of light burned from the lanterns glowing every few metres, making the stone floor glow, and then you realised where you were.

The Prison.

Where the most vile and corrupt creatures were locked away and forgotten about.

Coiling his fingers around your upper arm, Rhys dragged you down the halls, groans and manic laughter emitted from the cells as they hurtled past and you bare feet struggled to keep up with Rhys' pace. You fought against his grip, using your digits to try and pry his hand from your flesh but it was no use, you had little to no strength left, you had used the last parts of your magic to glamour Gwyn's scent.

The rattling of your chains had spurred on the inhabitants of The Prison, all of which had pressed their eyes against their gates and were trying to reach you, their fingers brushing against your flesh as you pleaded with Rhys to stop whilst they whispered and hissed into the abyss.

The Princess.

Demon.

Death.

"Rhys, please, you can't do this. Please." The queen that lived within you had vanished, she had retreated into the darkest part of you for refuge and watched on as the last bulb of your light flickered.

His pace did not falter at your cries, and the unsettling vocalisations of the prisoners continued on, "I'll be back for you once this all blows over," he rounded the corner and you saw the open door, of a room that awaited to devour you and everything that you were or could be. Rhys tossed you inside, not even flinching when your knees collided with the floor and your body slumped against the poor excuse of a bed, it was more like an altar, like the one Amarantha had chained you to that night. Upon further reflection you discovered that the altar didn't just look like it, it was an exact replica of the one in her torture chamber.

Groaning doors pulled and locked into place and you crawled to it, bottom lip wobbling and resolve disappearing more with each passing moment. Grasping the bars, you hauled yourself up, clearing your blurred vision to see Rhys turning away from you and heading back in the direction where he had dragged you from, "Rhys! Please. Please don't leave me here. Please."

Soft sobs broke through your lips when he didn't even move his head and winnowed from sight. Turning from the bars, you sank to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest, your body shook furiously as it took in the darkness that welcomed you like an old friend, and that altar grinned at you like a loaded gun. Rhys knew exactly what he was doing when he put that in the chamber, it was his final attempt to break your mind, to put you back into the worst moment of your existence and watch as you succumbed to it.

For the first time in awhile, your mind was silent, no bickering thoughts swarmed around the canvas of it and in any other moment you'd be relieved, but you yearned for them to speak to you, to tell you what move to make next.

Raking your fingers through your matted hair, you allowed yourself to fall apart, muffling your cries into the torn skirt of your grey gown that drowned your figure. The writhing muscles in your shoulders caused you no pain that you hadn't already felt, and so you ignored them and crawled to the altar, pulling the thin pillow and blanket from the cold surface, finding a place in the corner of the cell and curling into a ball atop of it.

"Please keep him safe," you asked the Mother in a hushed tone, fixating your gaze on the wall, on any place that wasn't the altar, "Please allow his pages to turn gently," a tear rolled down your cheek, "Please."

As if your prayer had reached the recipient, a soft breeze swirled at your lower back, seemingly fitting the blanket tighter around your wilting body, and you sighed. The Prison wasn't a place that anyone walked out of alive, and you knew that you were no exception to the eons old knowledge.

No sleep dared to coax you, there were no happy dreams that could soothe you, and all you could do was stare at the stone alter that had cooed to your will shrouded in darkness as the first branch of your mind cleaved in two.

Author's Note

Here it is! Kind of a tough one to write x

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmtttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla @oucereeng @andreperez11 @demonicbusiness @megscabinetofcurios @superspideyparker @julesofvolterra

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acotarxreader · 23 hours

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Songbird

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: Azriel takes to the stage, slightly more than drunk and definitely slightly more than ready to tell the world how he feels about you.

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: A real silly goofy quick idea! Also I reread Storm Chaser recently and like idk did I write it half asleep so many funny lil mistakes, oh well!

P.S: When I was re reading this before posting I was thinking like is throwing the rattle out of the pram an Irish saying lol??? Anyways it's just like a child having a temper tantrum I guess.

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Azriel laughed over your shoulder at Cassian's insane story from his youth, sat in the poorly lit Ritas, with you standing between his legs, back flush to his chest. Mor began to reprimand the Illyrian gaining more laughs from you and Azriel at the show they put on. Your hands laid on Azriels thighs, supporting your weight, his fingers intertwining with yours before they snaked around your waist, pulling you back tighter into him. He rested his head on one of your shoulders and smiled at his two bickering friends.

“Hey everyone, hey YN, you wanna dance?”

“You wanna take a long walk off a short pier Wells?” you sent your elbow backwards into Azriels clipped words gaining a groan from the Spymaster.

“Ignore him Wells, maybe later” You gave a smile to the ego-bruised Fae as he sulked off back into the dance floor. You span to face Azriel, slipping from his grip.

“Az, chill out” Your hands landed on his shoulders to steady his increasing annoyance. His gaze glanced from your soft eyes to your mouth and back again before you noticed. He couldn’t help but fall so hopelessly in love with his best friend. Cassian reached from behind you, an arm wrapping around your stomach as he pulled you back flush into him.

“Yeah chill out Az sharing is caring” he laughed, lightly pecking your neck as you chuckled at the ticklish movement. His hand caught yours pulling you back, glaring at Cassian as he rolled his eyes. It was an unspoken rule that you were off limits, only making Cassian enjoy winding him up more.

“Come on YNN, let's leave the Illyrian babies to throw their rattles out of the pram” Mor took you by the hand laughing as you both took to the dance floor like a ducks to water, Wells joining the two of you soon after. The sweet sound of the live band making the three of you so endlessly happy.

“Az, relax, that vein in your head is gonna explode, here have a drink” Cassian handed his full tumbler of whiskey over, Azriel downing it in one

“Woah, Az, steady on you don’t wa-”

“More” Azriel almost gritted out, his eyes piercing into the back of Wells’ head. Cassian passed another drink to him and it was gone just as quick.

“Look Az maybe this whole, ignoring feelings isn’t-”

“-More” his hand banged off the mahogany of the bartop, and the bartender quickly replaced the glass for another full one. This was repeated numerous times until Cassian wasn’t sure if he was impressed or deeply worried.

“Az, you are definitely more whiskey than blood right now, let me get the bill- Az?” Cassian turned away from the bar to find an empty seat next to him. Before he could stop him, Azriel had found his way to the microphone on stage, rather unsteadily.

“YN!” He shouted your name into the microphone, it howling back at him causing the crowd to flinch, the singer of the band stood to the side, more than a little afraid of Azriels stature.

“YN? Where’s YNN? Oh! Hey there you are! Heeey” he was almost hanging off the microphone stand as the majority of Ritas landed their eyes on him. Mor and you laughed at the sight of the inebriated Illyrian but underneath the action made you nervous.

“Remember YNN-ie, remember when we we-re, Gods, like 20 and you push-ed me into the Sidra because- because I-I accidentally, allegedly, shredded your fav-ourite training leathers and then and then you realis-ed I was like drownin-g or something and you dove in and saaaved me” it was a barely understandable slur of a half story, but you nodded anyway, getting the gist of the story. The bar's eyes ran over you before returning to Azriel, you felt intensely uncomfortable under their gaze.

“Well I have fucki-ng loved you ever since then! And I fucking hate feelin-gs so yanno, screw you for that but anyway-” Cassian rushed onto the stage and tried to grab the microphone from Azriel's vice-grip strength.

“Cassy- Cass, I’ll hug y-ou later, go hug Nestaa, we all know you waaaant to-” Cassian stood back from his brother, shocked and embarrassed at the betrayal of trust, Nesta sinking deeply into a booth, covering her face in almost shame.

“Yanno what Az, fine, go right ahead” he stormed off the stage leaving Azriel to his evening announcements.

“Gods, Cassy I sai-d I’d hug you lat-er! So needy! Where was I…YN! Where’d she go? Oh there! Heres a son-g you can dance to, its called: I cherish our friendship so I won't tell you that I'd fuck you if you asked and I love you so fucking much” he cleared his throat before belting one horrendous note and then was tackled to the ground by Cassian, having decided he couldn't let Azriel sing, for everyone's sake more so than his own.

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Azriel stretched against his comforter, instantly awash with a pounding headache, preventing him from fully sitting up in the bed in his apartment.

“Gods” he groaned, pulling the duvet over his eyes to shield them from the unforgiving Winter sun.

“Good morning Songbird, pain relief tonic?” he peeked out to see you swimming in one of his nightshirts, a crystal clear glass of tonic in hand. One of his favourite sights in the world.

“Oh you wonderful creature” he took it eagerly sinking it faster than the alcohol last night. You watched him with a smile as his hand ran to a large bump marked with a cut on his forehead.

“Ah, a gift from Cass after he tackled you” you chuckled, sliding into the bed alongside him.

“What? I don’t remember that? Did he stay here last night?” confusion replaced the pain the tonic took away.

“I slept downstairs, had to make sure you didn’t choke on your vomit, Cass had some explaining to do to Nesta so after he helped me carry you he went to the House of Wind”

“Right…” more questions than answers danced across Azriels thoughts. He rubbed the back of his head to find a similar bump decorating his skull.

“Yeah, Cass also did that one when he dropped you on the walk home, you tried to sing your little song again and that was his instinctive reaction” you laughed at the memory of the not-so-accidental drop.

“My little… Oh Gods! Someone kill me” he buried himself deep inside the duvet again, taking the empty glass with me, you just laughed again.

“Does he hate me?” he said muffled through the sheets.

“A little but I think he’s a bit grateful it broke the ice between them but I wouldn’t lead with that when you apologise” You smirked as he exhaled deeply through the linen.

“Do you hate me?” so small you almost missed it.

“Would I have preferred it if you said you loved me not drunk and in front of everyone? Sure but I'll take what I get” You smiled as he slowly raised his eyes above the crest of the sheets.

“I’m really sorry”

“It's okay Az, I know saying those words isn't easy for you and maybe you would have never said them sober so-"

“-I love you YN, there, I said it sober”

“Well that doesn't count because you're probably still drunk from last night” you nudged him laughing, he smiled fully removing his face from beneath the sheets to look up at you “Thanks for looking after me”

“Thanks for saying I love you first”

“Thanks for not leaving me drown in Sidra river” you chuckled lightly, pushing yourself down in the bed so you could lie next to him, his hangover seeming to fully disappear at the action.

“You're welcome, I should have really just let you though, it would have been easier in the long run” You laughed and he prodded you light in the ribs before you continued.

“I love you too Az, you're my best friend” Unease grew in Azriel at the words, he loved the start of the sentence but was ever so slightly crushed by the end.

“Umm YNN, It's more than just- I mean I love being your friend but I- what I'm trying to say is-” you cut him off with a sweet kiss, world melting together, the feeling you had both denied yourselves for centuries.

“I know Az, I just wanted to see you squirm” You smiled into the kiss before he pushed back in faux offence.

“Not cool, I'm going to sing for you now as punishment!”

“No no no no no I'm sorry no!” but it was too late, he was howling and you were laughing at a volume to match.

-----------------------------------

Let me know what you think!

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mira-s-bookclub · 3 days

Text

Past Time Nightmares

Azriel x Reader

Note: Weird way to write?

Warnings: Burning (Hehe), nightmares, past trauma.

Summary: Being mates means sharing a lot, including trauma.

Words Count: 1,3k

. . . . . ╰──╮ ╭──╯ . . . . .

Everything went in a blur of sights. One second the disoriented but wonderfully peaceful dream was exchanged for another.

It came in flashes of hot white and blackness.

Her throat had closed. Her feet -bound, chained she found out, restricting her movement. She couldn’t breathe. She really fucking couldn’t breathe.

Everything was disoriented, blurry and clear at the same time. Her heart couldn’t take anymore, her breath coming in short and fast.

A set of hands before her came through. This is how I die, she thought. There was a sharp smell, something oily poured over her hands, still bound.

Everything went by so fast: a click there and a flick of light in the darkness.

She couldn’t see clearly, oblivious to the tears streaming down her face, her eyes, still clad in darkness.

When the flame came before her, she stilled. A threat. There wouldn’t be a pain quite like this one, she knew. Even before the flame set fire to her oil clad hands, she knew it would hurt her in ways that couldn’t be fixed.

She started trembling. Her nose clogged, her breathing coming to a stop. Preparing. The hands before her held the flame. Strong, mighty hands, holding the flickering flame, as if the flame, too, wanting to burn out.

She couldn’t do this. Her body lurched in the chair. She couldn’t. A strong set of hands held her. No, no, no. Four hands. And as she panicked and screamed at them to stop. Crying out for mercy. As the steady hands dropped the lighter. She wished for nothing but the darkness to take her away.

She lurched up from the bed. Hit something hard and fell back again. Twisting, turning, and hitting everything in radius.

She couldn’t breathe, her throat clogged full of the smell. That smell. Burning flesh. Right of the delicate bones, bubbling, sizzling. Strong hands gripped her again, shaking her.

She couldn’t do it again, wouldn’t. She’d rather die.

There was someone yelling in the background, gripping her arms so tight she knew she would notice the marks right away. Shaking her again, yelling at her.

She could still feel the phantom pains, the fire so hot it felt like ice was digging its way through her very soul. She was going to be sick. Gagging and choking, the person dropped her arms.

Taking the opportunity, jumping, crawling over and down on the floor. A pile of limbs, crumbling.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything.

Her name was shouted from across the room.

She was in a room.

Strong, hard barked hands gripping her cheeks, nimble fingers clearing the fog from her eyes. Her tears, she noticed, lay in a puddle on the floor. Hardwood floors, clad in small scrapes and cuts.

“For the love of god, look at me!” There was an urgency in his voice, scaring her- “Come on!” he yelled, lifting her face to face his. She gasped. Azriel. “I-I..” she tried; her voice almost too soft for his Illyrian hearing.

His arms wrapped around her, steadying her. She hadn’t even noticed the trembling; she shook so hard her teeth clattered. He leaned back. Azriels eyes was full of panic, his grip on her arms never faltering. “What happened?” he said, looking her in the eyes. His voice a little rough.

She curled into his arms again, both sitting on the floor, almost in his lap. “I was burning,” she said into his neck. Her voice hoarse, her throat sore from screaming.

That was how he had found her.

She had laid screaming and thrashing in her bed, completely safe, his shadows had made sure of that. There wasn’t a threat in sight.

He knew she had nightmares, he had them himself.

“Azriel,” she cried in his arms. He knew what she was going to say before she did, knew her own nightmares never spooked her much.

“It was you burning,” she whispered, a statement. They’ve done this before, but his heart still skipped a beat. Knew her own heart probably skipped it too. Together.

Her skin was sweaty, but ice cold. He rubbed his arms up and down hers, trying so hard not to think about her nightmare.

He had moved on, tried too at least. “I know sweetheart, I know.” He would never forget. Neither would she.

His breathing was ragged, a clump forming in his throat. “Come on,” he whispered in her ear, “let’s find something to eat.” There wasn’t much to do when either of them had a nightmare. The worst thing to do was go back to sleep, the nightmares always came back. Food and quiet was the best medicine.

She hesitantly unfastened herself from him, carefully taking his hands in hers. He knew she had to see them in full light, see how they had healed. She would hold them and any part of him she could for hours after a nightmare like this.

Azriel looked deep into her eyes. Knowing she was shaken but would be okay. It shook him to his very core when she was screaming. He knew she was fine, but it didn’t matter. He held her hands, kissed her cheeks, her lips. “Come now.”

She laughed at his antics. He had refused to let her walk down the short flight of stairs, giving her only one option: to be carried bridal style downstairs. Her hands lay around his neck, giving him quick kisses everywhere she could get to. His arms were wrapped under her thighs and lower back.

It was still dark outside, the sun wouldn’t be up for hours, she remarked to him. He just gestured to the light around the room. “Good thing we have lamps,” he said, tickling her stomach. “Stop,” she laughed again, “I would never tickle you in such a situation.”

He grinned at her, knowingly. She knew he wasn’t oblivious to her self-deprecation, but it was what she did to lighten the mood.

He sat her on the counter in the kitchen, gently stroking her thigh before turning towards the fridge. “Anything in mind, Love?” he said with such softness, she knew his brothers would laugh at him should they ever know.

She wouldn’t mind ice cream, she told him. Her voice was a little shaky, but if he noticed he didn’t say.

He came over a little later, two bowls of chocolate ice cream in hand. Shaking his head at her when he found her on the sofa instead, hand stuffed into a bowl of chocolate. He was smiling down at her with such love, she knew he really didn’t judge her.

She patted the cushion beside her, a request for closeness.

There were times were neither of them craved physical contact, needing only their presence to feel safe.

He sat down beside her, and she moved. Turning her back against the side of the sofa, her legs sprawled over his lap. He sat farther back, gently stroking her legs up and down.

This was exactly what she needed. Though the nightmare had scared her, she knew he was safe. His hands were not hurt anymore. His blood brothers were awful creatures for what they did to him. Such a difference from his found brotherhood with Cassian and Rhys, who would do anything for Azriel, she knew. He would always be scarred. Not only on the outside, but the inside too, mostly there. She knew she had healed some part of him after they got mated, knew he wasn’t as dark minded as before.

Fingers tapped against her leg. She looked up to find his eyes on hers, one eyebrow quirked up. He nodded his head towards the melting ice cream on the table and though he didn’t say anything, she knew what he meant: “You wanted ice cream, I made it. Eat.”

#acotar #acotar fic #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel #spymaster #acotar series #acotar x reader

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writeroutoftime · 8 hours

Text

true love's kiss

pairing: azriel x reader

summary: when azriel is hit with a powerful poison what - or who - will be able to save him?

warnings: talks of death, angst

words: 2.8k (buckle up)

a/n: my first azriel story and I'm so excited!! this idea just popped in my head the other day, and I ran with it lol. it was so much fun to write, so I hope you have just as much fun reading it!

(p.s. requests are open if you'd like to send anything in!)

oOoOo

Without warning, your heart began to pump furiously and an uneasy feeling settled over your body. Your muscles tensed up, as if preparing for an attack, and only moments later, you noticed Feyre's glazed over eyes widened in fear. Lunch suddenly postponed, she shot to her feet and ran towards the living room while you, Mor, and Amren quickly trailed behind.

Before you even stepped foot in the room, your suspicions were confirmed as the scent of blood and fear smacked you in the face. There was a brief space of time in which you mourned for the anguish Feyre would feel over an injured Rhys. However, the image of Rhys and Cass heaving an unconscious Azriel onto the couch suddenly seared itself into your mind.

"What happened?" you whispered the words over the commotion, though it rang out loud and clear to the Inner Circle despite its wobble.

"We were ambushed in Windhaven." Cass explained while Rhys reached into the void to call for Madja. "Az's side was struck with a sword, but it must have been laced with poison. One second he was standing behind me, and the next thing I knew, he let out a shout before collapsing almost immediately."

Tears lined your eyes at the thought, and the pain didn't register when you dropped to the ground beside Azirel, hands hovering over his body. The dark swirl of shadows that nearly obscured him from view parted for you, allowing you access to their master.

"Oh, Azriel." you breathed out, only distinguishable to you and his shadows. The later wisping gently around your face, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. You leaned into the gesture, wishing it was Azriel's palm against your skin.

Suddenly, you felt strong arms pull your shoulders away from Azriel as Madja stepped in and took your place, her gaze instantly drawn to his wound. Meanwhile, your family stepped back in fear. Rhys held Feyre tight in his grasp, and Cassian offered you and Mor each a comforting hand.

The only sounds for the next few minutes were Madja's grunts and huffs as she did her best to treat the injury. You couldn't help but cringe into Cass' side as her hands turned a dark-red, tinted from the blood that should have long ago clotted. It felt like an eternity before the healer turned around to face all of you, her face worn.

"I've done what I can to stabilize him, but the sword that struck our Shadowsinger was indeed laced with a poison I have yet to see. Unfortunately, it still seems to be working his way through his system. I can't say for certain how much time he has, but I will work swiftly to find an answer." she explained solemnly, taking in the pained expressions of you and your friends. "All I do know is whatever the cure ends up being, it needs to be a strong source of magic. I'm sorry I can't offer better news."

Rhys was the first to break through the stunned silence. "Thank you, Madja. C-can we move him somewhere more comfortable?"

The healer nodded before taking her leave. In her stead, all of you gaped in shock before Rhys and Cass worked together to move Azriel to a bed where they thought he would be more comfortable. Once they got him settled, you pulled a chair up, next to his bed, a stack of thick, dusty books beside you. If there was nothing you could do at the moment, by the cauldron you would at least help Madja research a cure.

When your focus couldn't get past the first few sentences on a page, you shut the book with a sigh and furiously wiped at your eyes. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter what you did. Carefully, you reached out and interlaced your hand with one of Azriel's, placing a soft kiss against the marred skin.

"Please, please wake up, Azriel." you whispered into the room. "I don't know what we'd do - what I'd do - without you." you told him, praying to the Mother and anyone else listening to heal your best friend.

As day bled into night, Rhys and Cass came into the room, trying to relieve you even just for an hour. They tempted you with food, rest, or even just a moment alone, but you refused. How could you leave Azriel alone in his moment of need? Eventually they got the hint, and slowly, the rest of your family began to take up residence in the room alongside you.

oOoOo

"How can there be nothing on this subject?" you shouted, tossing the book to the floor with a loud thump.

The rest of the Night Court looked up at your outburst, their own eyes red and bleary from the hours and hours of research. It had been three days since Madja first examined Azriel, and even the experienced healer was coming up empty. With every hour that passed, you felt the hope in your soul drain even further.

"There has to be an answer somewhere." Cass placated, stretching out his wings from where he sat. "Someone has to have used this poison before."

"That doesn't mean they had to write the antidote down, boy." Amren spoke cooly from her spot, ignoring your pointed glare.

"What is it, Feyre?" Rhys asked, taking note of her trance like state. She shook her head slightly at her mate before turning her attention to the rest of the group.

"Well...I was just thinking. Madja said whatever the cure ends up being will have to be powerful, but maybe we've been thinking about this too literally. Maybe it's not an answer that can be found in a book. What has been a powerful motivator for all of us over the years? Was even the answer to end Amarantha's reign?" she asked, the group shuddered at the mention of the name of that devil. "Love."

You stared at your High Lady, head titled to the side. "Okay, but how is that going to help us now? It's not like any of us don't love Azriel."

"And it's not exactly a position we can give him." Mor chimed in.

Feyre reached out a tattooed hand and grasped Rhys' hand. "Or maybe it is." she countered. "I don't know about here in the Night Court, but haven't you ever heard fairytales? True love conquering all with a kiss, and all that?"

"Do you think it would really work?" you ask, your tone warm and face full of light for the first time in days.

All eyes fell to Rhys and Ameren for guidance. The two shared a look, silently communicating their opinions on the matter, but it was Rhys who spoke first. "I've never heard of an instance of true love's kiss being the answer, but since when have we been known to do anything traditionally?" he said with a small grin, inspiring a soft chuckle in the room.

"Well," Cass dragged out. "I would try, but I don't think Az would appreciate me waking him up with a kiss."

You rolled your eyes at the general, before considering the impact of his words. "Doesn't that leave us with a problem? Azriel hasn't found his mate, so we're still stuck and unable to break though." A small pang shot through you at the idea of Azriel's mated to an unknown female, but you quickly tamped that down. This was a matter of life or death.

All eyes of the Inner Circle turned to face you. Looks of disbelief, amusement, and even understanding from Rhys, came your way. You caved in on yourself, suddenly feeling your cheeks heat under the scrutiny. This was not the time for their games.

"What?"

Mor spoke your name, gently, as her hand reached out to grasp yours. "Do we really need to spell it out?" she asked in your silence.

"Spell what out?"

Amren, having had enough of the tiptoeing, finally spat it out. "That you're in love with the Shadowsinger, and have been for decades. If anyone in this room has the power to break this curse, it's you."

A laugh bubbled up and out of your throat at her words, born out of sheer nerves that shot through your body. "N-no, no. I am not in love with Azriel. I mean, yes, I care for him - of course I do! I love him the way I love all of you. I'd do anything to help, but I really don't think this is going to work." you stuttered and stumbled over your words, bashful from the accusation.

"We've all seen the way you look at each other, y/n." Feyre spoke gently, her eyes soft and she stared at you. "I think you love Azriel a bit differently than the rest of us."

Her words brought tears to your eyes. Yes, you were in love with your best friend - how cliche. It had been that way for decades, but you never had the courage to speak up and say anything to him. And now, all these feelings were being dredged up in such a tense situation. What if it wasn't enough? What if you weren't enough to save him?

"Okay, fine, you've caught me." you conceded, throwing your hands up in the air as your voice grew thick and heavy once more. "Is that what you want me to say? That I've been in love with Azriel for years, and it's killed me to just stay by his side as just a friend?" a defensive anger rose in your body as you looked at each member of your family. "But you're forgetting an important piece to this puzzle. Just because I'm in love with Azriel, doesn't mean I'm his true love."

With that, you ran out of the room, collapsing against the wall in the hallway. You tried to take deep, steady breaths to calm your breathing, but it did little to help the situation. A few minutes later, you heard soft footsteps come up to your side, and Mor pulled you into a giant hug. The two of you stayed in silence for a few moments, grateful for the anchor she acted as in the moment.

"I know that was a lot to throw on you, and for you to have to admit to us." she spoke, softly and cautiously. "And nobody judges you for how you feel or how you're reacting."

"I'm so scared." you confessed. "W-what if I try and it doesn't work?"

Mor looks at you with a gentle smile. "What if you try and it does work?" she countered. "I think you underestimate the extent of Azriel's feelings for you. And, if, Mother forbid, it doesn't work, then we'll figure something else out."

Her words gave you a sense of comfort and the courage to wipe your tears and walk back towards Az's room. Before you stepped back in, you gave Mor's hand a grateful squeeze then rolled your shoulders back.

All talking ceased as you walked back in, and you knew your family had to have been discussing what to do if you didn't agree with their plan. But this was Azriel's life on the line, and you would do anything to protect it. Even if that meant having your feelings revealed, or rejected.

"Okay, let's try this." you told the Inner Circle, calmly and with conviction you tried to convince yourself you had. "But, all of you are waiting outside."

There were no laughs or jokes at your expense, which surprised you, especially coming from Cassian. Instead, they all nodded their heads and solemnly and filed outside to wait. On his way out, Cassian squeezed your shoulder and nodded.

"Bring him back to us." he whispered, board line pleading with you to save his brother's life.

When it was just you and Azriel alone in the room, you took a deep breath and crossed the space until you knelt before his bed. You took the moment to study his features. His hazel eyes, normally full of life and mischief, now were shut off from you. His skin looked more swallow and the rise and fall of his chest seemed to slow with each breath that passed. Even the presence of his shadows seemed dimmer as Azriel's life slowly drained before your eyes.

With a shaky hand, you reached out to brush away soft tendrils of hair that had fallen into Azriel's face. "Can you hear me, Az?"

The air was heavy as you waited a response that never came.

"We all miss you so much. I miss you - my best friend. I-I know it's not fair of me to ask, but just keep holding on, keep fighting. Please." you whispered, leaning down to rest your forehead against his body, gathering your courage. "Look, Feyre has this crazy theory about what could save you. It's uh, true love's kiss."

Again, no response.

"This was not the way I expected to tell you, not that I thought I'd tell you if I'm being honest. But even though I don't want to jeopardize our friendship, I'd rather have you alive and never speak to me again than gone forever. So, here it goes." you took a deep breath. "I love you Azriel, I think I always have. You are so good and kind, and the kind of male I've dreamed about for years. I-it's okay if you don't feel the same," you forced yourself to say. "but I thought you should know given our situation."

Not sure what else to say, you took one more look at the male in front of you, placed a gentle kiss against his cheek, and then dipped your head down to meet his lips. They were chapped against your own after a few days without enough water. Az's normal smell of cedar and mist was faint, but still there, and comforted you as it surrounded your senses.

You poured as much love and hope into the kiss as possible before slowly pulling away, falling to sit on your legs. The next few seconds that passed seemed to stretch for hours, waiting for a sign, a movement, anything. Just as you were about to sag and give up hope, a loud gasp sounded next to you and Azriel's frame jolted up.

"Azriel!" you shouted, watching as the color returned to his face and his eyes darted around the room.

Those hazel eyes finally landed on your frame, and Azriel quirked a small, albeit, sleepy smile at you. "y/n." he whispered, holding out a hand.

Wasting no time, you grasped onto the anchor for dear life, and the tears immediately began to pour down your face. "I can't believe you're awake. Oh, I was so scared for you Azriel. How are you feeling? Are you in pain? We have to get Madja and the other's here. I'll go-" you rambled, before being cutting off my Azriel.

"Hey, hey, calm down." he soothed, pulling you up onto the bed, flush against him. "I feel fine, considering I was just on the brink of death." he chuckled.

"Don't make jokes like that." you swatted at his chest. "We almost lost you."

"Yeah, but you saved me." he said, looking down at you in awe.

Suddenly bashful again, you began to stutter. "Oh, no, I didn't do much. It was all Feyre's idea, and we all were here helping to research."

"But Rhys and Cass weren't the one's to bring me back with a kiss." he said, and you felt as though your entire body was on fire at Azriel's words.

"Y-you heard all that?"

"I did." he nodded, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "And, I can't believe it took us until now to say anything, but I love you, y/n." he admitted, turning your face so you stared into his eyes.

As the words left Azriel's lips, both of your gasped. This time, however, it wasn't because of a sleeping curse, but because of the taught, golden thread you felt connecting your soul to Azriel's. Your mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, but the loudest one was "mate, mate, mate."

You stared at the male before you in awe, and Azriel grinned. "My mate. My knight in shining armor." he teased, then leaned down to capture your lips once more.

This time, the kiss sent butterflies to your stomach and you revealed in the feeling of Azriel's strong arms around your body. His kiss was long and unhurried, as though you had all the time in the world to explore. And as you kissed him back, you found yourself giddy at the thought of the rest of your immortal life with Azriel.

It was only when the doors had been thrown open and the rest of your family came stumbling in did you and Azriel pull apart. The two of you looked at each other, then busted out laughing at the shocked faces of your family.

"It worked!"

"You're awake."

"The two of you are mates?!"

Their voices all overlapped, and you felt Az sigh against you, hugging you close. Yes, your family was a lot, but they meant well. And now, you could live happily ever after.

oOoOo

a/n: ahh, I'm pretty impressed by how quickly this went from an idea to a story! kinda feel like I rushed the end, but oh well! hope you enjoyed!

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #acotar azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #rita writes

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 4 hours

Text

The apparition

a/n only fitting for to me come back with an angst after a month of disappearing. Do I think that this should have never seen the light of day? Yes. But oh well… Sleep token made me do it. Also, this a one shot. Won’t be writing a part two to this. Pain is pain for a reason. 🥹

warning: forbidden love, addiction, toxic love?, past trauma, brief mentions of sexual intimacy.

The part in italics is the glimpse of the past.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He felt like a kid. Pushed aside once again. A rock. Kicked carelessly by the side of the road. Mindlessly misplaced. Carelessly ignored. Azriel knew his tendencies. That desire to be loved. To be wanted. To be longed for. That same feeling had him crawling after females who never reciprocated his affection. Yet he crawled back. No matter the amount of stabs his heart took. He always found himself reaching.

Was this something his brothers had warned him about? Yes. Cassian repeatedly sat him down like a youngling, pointing out the damage he was creating. The wounds Azriel was tearing open. The self-inflicted pain he was causing himself. Yes, yes, and triple fucking yes. But it was like a drug, and he was an addict. Addict that was so far down the line that the withdrawal was scarier than knowing that every morning his bed was cold, his arms were empty, and his heart had been bled dry.

The corner street door creaked open. Alerting the lost spymaster. His senses perked up. Azriel doubted that it was true, but even now, even without catching a glimpse of you, he was convinced that he sensed you. But nothing compared to that wave of familiarity that crashed into him when your frame came into view. Chasing the last bits of air out of his lungs. His hands reached out in a frenzy of muscle memory.

“Azriel?”, and it’s the surprise—the hints of horror, almost pain—that sounded in the way you said his name. But his mind was too far gone to register that. So much of an always-alert spymaster. “Oh, no, no," you dragged your hand out of his grip, “You shouldn’t be here”, you shook your head, putting distance between you two. "Please," and here goes that plea. The desperation. “No, Azriel, we had a deal, remember? Last week was the last time," you hissed at him, turning to look over your shoulder.

“This will be the last time," Azriel muttered. A lie. He knew that. But maybe you didn’t. Maybe he could lie to himself to the point where even the ones around him believed him. “Oh, no, I know how this goes." You shook your head repeatedly, “I warned you, you stupid fool." He could feel the frustration flowing through you. The panic. “You promised me you were decent. That you had a hold of your mental shields." There was nothing sweet in your tone as you hissed out, reaching to open the door leading to your shop.

“They were. They are," Azriel muttered, stepping after you. “Don’t lie to me. You can’t fool me”, you huffed, looking through the drawer, cursing as loose pieces of paper swayed, falling to the floor. And Azriel just stood there, watching. Drinking in every single movement. “When?”, you asked, wild eyes looking up at Azriel. And he knew exactly what you wanted to know too. Should he lie? Alter the date? Hide a symptom or two. “Last month," his mouth betrayed him, however, and he had a first-seat ticket to watching your face fall. “But it’s not bad; I have it under control," Azriel quickly jumped in, hoping to defuse the situation, “It just flared up tonight, I promise." Another lie. But if he wanted to get what he was looking for, he had to push this narrative in a convincing enough manner.

“I’m telling Rhys," you muttered. "No," Azriel cut in so quickly that it made you jolt. “No need, plus he is aware that I am seeing you," he added in a much calmer tone. “Seeing me or seeing me now?”, you pushed. It was the mess with Elain that had made him crumple. Had taken him out for months before he found his footing once again. Even if he knew that the relationship had an expiration date, the mating bond always won. No matter the stories others showed down one’s throat about the chance of rejecting it.

“All of it. Knows all of it”, Azriel nodded. Just one more, he thought, just for tonight. “I’m saying this as a friend. You can’t keep coming back," you whispered, “This needs to stop." It was Rhys who had found you. An illusionist manipulating people’s emotions, threading together images that felt real to the depths of one’s bones. An alter of wished they called you. People and even high-fea prayed at your altars for Mother's sake. You were something some feared and others were ready to sacrifice themselves for.

“What illusions do you obtain from?" It was your fifth meeting, and Azriel, much to your dismay, had pushed the idea of getting to know each other. After all, he would have to let you into the depths of his soul. So that had been his one rule—befriend me first. You had stayed silent for a long time. Twirling the red wine in your glass. “Of love," you muttered, and Azriel could have never imagined that those two words would alert all of his life. “Why?”, was a question brought up by pure curiosity back then, with no implied intentions. “It gets messy, and the falsification of love feels wrong. Such feelings shouldn’t be tainted by magic," you said, pushing your hair over your shoulder. You glowed even in the dim light. The curves of your body were breathtaking as you lounged in the day bed on the balcony of Azriel’s apartment. It was a lethal kind of beauty, and with a handful of heartbeats, he knew that he was already slipping.

“I saw Elain today; she... we spoke, and I just..." It was a hell of a lie he was choosing, but the need won out in his logical sense. “Mend it for me; I can’t keep feeling as if I have nothing," he breathed out. His eyes filling up with tears. “Just this one time," Azriel said, sinking to his knees. He saw your walls cracking slowly as you rounded the table. Fingers reaching out to cup his face. His hands reach to hold onto your hips. Pleading eyes burning into you. “I should have never said yes, and I hope you know how much I regret this," you muttered, clawing at his heart.

“Admit it, I’m a fun company." Azriel leaned closer, making sure you could hear him through the music. You had no clue how he managed to drag you to Rita’s of all places, but here you were. One of the finest silks on your skin. A private booth. The lights. The drumming of the crowd. You shook your head, suppressing a smile. “You’ve gotten cocky," you observed, “Who knew you had that in you." Azriel leaned back, undoing the first button of his black shirt. "Oh, there’s so much more you don’t know about me, baby," he said, speaking into thin air. Knowing that you could hear him. He had leaned in only to feel you closer to him. Smirking as he lifted his glass.

His hands reached out, taking hold of your legs as he pulled them up, draping them over his lap. Caught by the sudden movement, you were forced to reach out. Hand on his shoulder as you steadied yourself. That’s when he caught that unrehearsed glimpse of need in your eyes, but it was quickly pushed back. “Now this is crossing the line," you huffed. But before you had a chance to move, Azriel clasped his hand on your thigh. “What are you afraid of?” He threw that question absentmindedly, not realizing how deep that root of pain was. “Wasn’t that what you asked me the first day we met?” Azriel smirked before averting his attention back to the crowd. Leaving you slowly breaking down beneath the feeling of him. Beneath the fear of yourself.

“I should have never given in," you said, lifting his chin, and he obliged without a fuss. “You liked this too. Admit it," Azriel bit back, his hold on you tightening. He would fight hell in hopes of being able to keep his hands on you. In hopes of keeping you. “We had a deal. No falling for one another," you hissed, nails digging into the sides of his face. “I warned you that my kind doesn’t do happy endings and picket fences, Azriel," you huffed. “I don’t need that from you," he argued, “I just need you to chase Elain away. That hasn’t changed. I still love her, not you." Another lie for the night. A bitter chuckle slipped through your lips, “You’re one shit of a liar, dear spymaster of the night court.”.

You were to blame for this just as much. You should have stood your ground. Should have never been entertained by that wimp. Because Rhys had warned you. Told you about Azriel's tendencies. So the fact that he had asked for a night that would make him feel loved should have been a red flag. But it was the empath in you that buckled at the feeling of his sadness. The loneliness that could drown out the whole army. The crippling emptiness. The way he broke down crying as he held onto you.

But all that could have been forgiven. Could have been managed. But it was yourself that you threaded into that glimpse of hope for him. Something you had never done before. It was always a made-up face you used while creating an illusion. It was the safest way. But you had been just as selfish. Nights spent getting to know each other left you wondering what it would feel like to know the touch of a man who wanted you. Who craved you. Who chose you even though loving you was a forbidden act of insanity.

And then it felt as if sending a ship you knew was destined to sink set sail. The next time Azriel stopped by, he was barely through the door as his hand grabbed the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. It felt so raw. So powerful. Whatever was happening in that small corner shop was way too big for it. Too big for Velaris. The whole world. As his hands danced over your body. Unraveling parts of you no one had seen before. Laying you bone bare beneath him. “Make me feel," he had whispered over and over. That sad lost man, making you break your own rules as you wrapped him in the sense of eternal peace as he made love to you over and over again. Digging a grave for each of you.

“If loving that silly girl with flowers in her hair had an explanation date, this has the date of your death engraved on your gravestone," you whimpered, your eyes burning as you held back tears. You warned him. Kept on warning him. In hopes of being able to wash your hands clean afterward. Because he knew the consequences. Loving you wasn’t something that could ever happen. But it only dragged you deeper. “I know. I remember everything," Azriel muttered, pressing ghost-like kisses over your stomach. His hands already slipping past the hem of your dress. Fingers skimming over your legs. You pressed your own hands over his, “Just an illusion this time, nothing more." You reached to pull back from his touch, but his grip on your thighs only tightened. “Let me make love to you," Azriel pleaded, and if you could justify the opium your magic gave him before, it was oozing out in ugly sores now. You had doomed him. Pained tears fell down your cheeks as you kneeled in front of him. Cupping his face with both hands. You let yourself take in the sight of him. Both because you knew that you would never meet another man like him and so you could torment yourself with guilt for fracturing him for the rest of your existence.

“You’re all better now," you muttered, smiling up at him. Azriel’s eyes grew hazy. “Do you remember the night we danced in your apartment after way too much wine?” You pushed the damp curl from his forehead, biting the inside of your cheek so you wouldn’t break down alongside him. He nodded eagerly. “You’re there, my love, in that moment," you said, taking a steady breath. Savoring the warmth of him. The feeling of him being close. “But you’re not there with me. Because I’m not real, Azriel," his shoulders sagged at your words. You could feel him trying to pull back, but you kept your hand on his neck. “I was never here. Never with you. You dreamed me up, baby," you said, pressing your lips to his forehead. You closed your eyes, feeling your own heart shatter, “But it was a nice dream, Az, and you will wake up way lighter tomorrow.”

Those same words were like a broken record as Azriel jumped up. Body aching and drenched in sweat. He turned aimlessly, as if in hopes of seeing you there. But he was in his room. The black sheets covered his body. "No," he grunts, yanking the black silk off him. Without a second thought, he winnowed. To one place that had been calling for him all of these weeks. And he’s nearly falling to his knees as the side of the wall comes into view. No windows. No sign. A solid concrete wall. “I know it’s your doing," he screams angrily into the depths of night. Hands pushing against the solid foundations. But there’s nothing. Not even a breath of you. As if it were never there. As if for the entire time it was just the corner of the street.

“You can’t push me away," he roared, beating his fist till the skin of his knuckles cracked, “You’re a fucking coward; that’s what you are." There was no way he had dreamed it. That you were a fleeting image of the night. Drafted by his brain. “You promised...", Azriel sank to his knees. His hands still pressed against the wall as he leaned against it. “I know it was real; you can’t make me believe otherwise," he crocked out, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Falling to the ground, he pressed his back against where the door of your shop used to be. His wings sagged on either side of him. And he just sat there. The stars up above keep him company throughout the rest of the night. He wasn’t gonna move. He won’t go. He wouldn’t go. The wind kissed his damp cheeks but he was numb to it. You watched him from the other side of the alley. Hand on your mouth as you drowned the shattering waves of pain within. You watched until the night took you away forever.

#azriel spymaster #azriel acotar imagine #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x reader

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stormhearty · 2 days

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✨ pairings: Eris x reader

🔮 preview: “(Y/N)…” your name on his dry lips was hoarse, the sound a scratchy noise in your ears and all you could do was whimper, trying to scramble away from the re-dead animation of him. “All I wanted was to be in love… I didn't want to die. What was wrong to fall in love with the same woman as him? Was it so wrong to fall in love with the Lady of Autumn?” A sob escaped your lips, tears streaking down your cheeks, “I’m sorry, Felian…” you whispered, shrinking away from him, frantically tugging at your leg to try to run away. You watched those eyes — those lifeless eyes — stare up at you, begging you to stay with him, to let him drag you down with him to the fire pits of Hell.

📣 trigger warnings: nightmares, mentions of blood, death 🔎 rating: PG-13 | 🔏 word count: 3.6k

💜 masterlist | series masterlist + notes: This part has been way overdue, and I am so sorry for that. Writing recently has been way too finicky for me but I’m slowly churning out fics, please look out for them. This part is a bit of (Y/N)’s history, on her reason to take Beron down, to make Eris High Lord. It’s kind of a filler episode, I guess? But still an important episode. In addition, this has a bit of a spoiler for ACOSF and a bit of non-canon stuff as well. The lore of how the Forest House came to be and where the castle was situated reminded me of Rivendell from LOTR. I hope you guys enjoy it! Like, comment, and reblog if you enjoy it! I would love to hear your thoughts!

Your pulse drummed in your ears, eyes trained on the blood that surrounded you — maroon pooled around your feet, like the Nile River that seemed to be overflowing. The stench of metal hit your senses, and you couldn't help but scrunch your nose at the smell, one so strong that the contents in your stomach churned like raging waters in the stormy sea. You fought the urge to vomit as your eyes trailed that river of blood — homing in on a lifeless body only a few feet up ahead.

The mass of hair, one similar to your hair color, was the source of the blood — the body lying on its stomach, a sword impaled in the middle of its back.

With shaky legs, you stepped forward, feeling and hearing the squish of maroon liquid underneath your bare feet. Your breath quickened as you leaned down, and with much effort turned the body around, a cry of horror unknowingly left your lips.

There, laid, your older brother — dead.

“Feilan…” you whimpered, a hand coming up to press against your mouth, holding back another scream at your brother’s lifeless form, taking a step back, your body wanting just to run away from such a horrifying scene.

But your body felt stuck as if your feet were glued to the ground below you and you glanced down, watching bloodied hands reach up from the pool of blood and grasp your calves and shins, leaving bloodied prints along your skin.

A terrified scream left your lungs, trying to reach down to swat those hands away from your legs, trying to desperately move your extremities from the tendrils of death. But when a lifeless hand reached over and grabbed your ankle, you let out a startled yell and fell backward, landing on your bottom.

You grunted, surprised that no pain racked your body at the fall, but when a squeeze of your ankle pulled you from your thoughts, eyes blinked open and trailed those ashen fingers to the revived hues of your older brother.

“(Y/N)…” your name on his dry lips was hoarse, the sound a scratchy noise in your ears and all you could do was whimper, trying to scramble away from the re-dead animation of him.

“All I wanted was to be in love… I didn't want to die. What was wrong to fall in love with the same woman as him? Was it so wrong to fall in love with the Lady of Autumn?”

A sob escaped your lips, tears streaking down your cheeks, “I’m sorry, Felian…” you whispered, shrinking away from him, frantically tugging at your leg to try to run away. You watched those eyes — those lifeless eyes — stare up at you, begging you to stay with him, to let him drag you down with him to the fire pits of Hell.

You wanted to, you had tried to save him, wanted to save your only family member. You were nothing but a child. You had no power in Autumn Court, no leverage of power to sway thoughts… you had little influence over the Autumn Court Family— there was no way for you to save your brother against the jealous rage of Beron Vanserra.

The grip on your ankle grew tighter, drawing your attention back to him and you watched in horror his features melt away — skin and muscle rotting away in blood, revealing the very male that had taken his life away. Lips tugged into a grin as the form of Beron Vanserra started to grab at your calves and thighs, pinning you underneath him. A scream pulled from your lips, as hands gripped the base of your neck, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

Frantic hands grasped Beron’s wrist, trying to use your strength to pull him off of your form — but it was to little use — he was stronger, more powerful than you and your femme stature was no match for the strength of a High Lord.

“—-S-stop…” you gasped out, feeling your body give out underneath his own, “Please…” you all but begged the High Lord.

The inhumane form of Beron grinned and leaned down, his face hovering over your own as you watched for the second time as those regal features shifted to someone you had grown fond of — Eris.

“(Y/N)…” he whispered your name, one filled with malice and hatred in every syllable.

Tears brimmed the edge of your eyes, as you felt your life slowly trickle away from you. Spots started appearing at the corner of your eyes, the grip on your throat growing tighter every second. You watched as his lips mouthed your name, your body feeling airless as you fell unconscious.

“(Y/N)!!!” You were pulled out of the hellish nightmare by strong and reliable hands, your eyes snapping open, your body lurching forward into a sitting position as hands came up to your neck, trying to feel for hands that were taking your life. Your chest heaved, trying to get the air that was sucked out of you… trying to gain your mind back from your dream.

“…(Y/N)…”

The sound of your name, one that was filled with love and care, pulled you from your racing thoughts, your body jumping slightly in the large bed and head whipping towards your left — Eris looking at you with worry, his hand raised in the air, his touch lingering on your shoulder.

Your body wanted to run — those hands were just on your neck, taking an attempt at your life — those hands wanted nothing more but to hurt you. But your mind screamed at you — this wasn’t the Eris that was in your dream, this wasn't the Eris that was trying to take your life.

This was your husband.

The one who knew your secrets, the one who knew your weaknesses. The one who plays your political games in Autumn Court. The one who protected you for millennials.

Your husband who would never lay a hand against you.

When the fight and flight eventually left your body, a shaky sigh escaped your lips — a signal that you were calming down from your dream. It was the only thing that Eris needed to see before he pulled you close, shifting your body to lie sideways on his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist and tucked into his chest, his chin on the crown of your head.

He didn’t say anything — he didn’t have to.

For centuries, your sleep had been plagued with nightmares of one particular day — the death of your older brother, at the hands of Eris’s father. You had watched him die in front of you, watched his life leave his eyes. And as a child of merely two centuries, you couldn’t do anything to save him.

You had despised your brother, no matter how much you missed him — hated that he had fallen in love with Gwinthedwe, Lady Autumn. You had watched him from afar as he courted her, watching her slowly fall in love with him — despite being married to Beron.

No matter how many times your mother had pleaded against continuing to court Gwinthedwe, he wouldn’t listen — begged that she had been the one for him. He planned to elope to another Court, to bring her with him — to save her from the claws of the High Lord.

That night… when the two lovers had planned to leave, Beron had found them and slayed Felian, in front of Gwinthedwe — and unknowing to them, in front of you, as well. You had followed them in shadow, using your power of illusion to cloak yourself in darkness, you watched from behind the pillar as the sword pierced through his chest, the terrified scream from Gwinthedwe echoing the halls.

But to you, all you could stare at in horror was your brother’s dying form and his gaze never left Gwinthedwe’s as the guards dragged her to the shared bedroom of Beron.

All you had wanted to do was scream at the High Lord for killing your brother, scream on the hatred that grew in your stomach for your older brother — but had been too terrified to do so, too afraid to be caught and be at the end of Beron’s sword.

It was Eris who had pulled you away from such a gruesome scene, saved you, and protected you from his father, though he was only a few centuries older than you.

It was right then and then, that you knew what you had to do — to take revenge for your older brother — and to ensure that Beron’s wrath would be ultimately stopped.

You and Eris had played the long game — a millennial long game. You had played the lovely marriage candidate for Eris, softened the heart of Beron, who had long forgotten that your brother had died by his hand and learned the political ways of the Court — all the while being by Eris’s side.

You had played the beautiful wife, the doting wife… the wallflower that only spoke when spoken to.

Unknowing to all that you were nothing but a vicious butterfly waiting to bite on her prey.

“…—-(Y/N)… (Y/N)…!”

A light shake pulled you out of your thoughts, the growing panic in Eris’s voice evident as he called your name again. You hummed, letting your husband know that he had gotten your attention, pulling you away from the past.

“…Sorry…” you apologized, a word that rarely slipped your lips, “I got drawn to the past…” eyes lifted and looked up at Eris, whose features softened at your words.

“How bad was it this time?”

Eris had been your only confidant about these nightmares. He always had asked about it since the first night you had one, millennials ago at the start of your friendship and into your married life.

And he will only be the only one who will ever know your weakness.

A light simper tugged at your lips as you rested your head against his shoulder, “Beron tried to choke me… and then he turned into you… and then you tried to kill me…”

Your words were light — as if it was a normal conversation.

But it wasn’t.

No matter how much you tried to deny it, your figure shook, still traumatized by the dream — by the reality — that still haunted you. The dream took you into the depths of your fears, where you lost your brother, and where you lost your life — whether it be by Beron’s hands… or by Eris’s.

The idea of death scares you, that you were nothing but a shaking leaf in Eris’s lap, paralyzed by the very thought.

You didn’t want to lose your life… not yet.

Not when your revenge against your brother was unfulfilled.

And you would not lose your life before you fulfilled your promise with Eris.

To put him on the Autumn Court throne.

You felt your hands shake in your lap, you glanced down at them with a frown. You hated when your body became vulnerable like this, showing every emotion that you attempted stomped down in your chest. You practiced for millennials to keep your body and emotions in check — to ensure no one knew of your vulnerabilities.

But moments like these, in the dead of the night, where they ran rabid through your body — it was hard to control them.

A large hand grasped your own, pulling you away from your mind once again, seeing Eris’s hand grasp both of yours gently, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes showed with worry, but with a hint of resolution, he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, letting his lips linger on your skin as he spoke.

“You know I would never lay a finger on you, right?” he asked, truth dripping with every letter.

You nodded your head, and Eris sighed and pressed another kiss on your palm.

He knew your dream was unusual — your dreams usually consist of your dead brother and his father — that nightmarish day still haunting you after so many millennials. However, the fact that he appeared in your dreams with the intent of hurting you, made him worry.

Eris shifted you in his arms, moving you so that you were straddling his thighs, your arms placed around his shoulders while he grasped your waist. Amber hues looked up at you, assessing your features for a moment, “I will never hurt you, nor try to kill you. That would break my promise, wouldn’t it?” he said with a light simper of a smile, softening his features.

You chuckled and nodded, your fingers playing with his auburn hair, the long locks out of its usual ponytail and free flowing over his back, “I know… I just, don’t know why you appeared in my dreams either. I just… think that I fear one day…” Your eyes averted his own, staring at the wall behind him, “I fear one day you will not need me anymore and will dispose of me…”

You felt Eris stiffen underneath you and those hands that were on your waist, slid up your back and grasped the back of your neck, gently forcing your gaze to return to his own.

“I will always need you, (Y/N). You are my wife. After millennials with me, of being at my side, can you not see I need you? As my wife, as my partner-in-crime… You are what I need right now. I will never leave you, I will never dispose of you. Do you understand that?”

His tone was so determined, so strong… yet all so soft that you felt your heart — one that you were sure stopped beating all those years ago — thump in your ribcage. Eris always seemed to see you in such a good light, one that was not tainted in blood nor poison.

You had done horrible things — killed people with your magic, manipulated people to your liking. You did everything in your power to turn the tides to your liking, to ensure that once it was time, Eris, with your help, would be sitting on that throne. That he would have little bloodshed on his hands, and you would be the one bearing all the weight of all the people you’ve killed.

And yet, here was he… your husband, showing you that you were still needed, you were still wanted. That he needed you after all of this, even if he sat on that throne, ruling over Autumn Court:

He would still need you.

A soft sigh escaped your lips and nodded your head, silently answering his question.

Eris let out a disappointing click of his tongue, fingers grasping your chin, “Words, my butterfly. I need your words.”

You chuckled softly, bringing yourself close to him, letting your breath fan over his features, “I understand that you will not abandon me, that you will need me long after you sit on that throne...”

Eris let out a pleased sound, leaning up to kiss your jawline before he maneuvered the both of you back into bed, an amused chuckle escaping your lips.

“You look gorgeous as ever, sister-in-law…”

You paused mid-step, a well-practiced smile tugging on your lips, turning on your heels to greet Rian — the third Vanserra son. You gave an elegant bow, before feeling a finger against your chin, forcing you to look up at him, that arrogant smirk on his features.

“In my eyes, you’re more gorgeous like this… below me…”

Oh the conceit that radiated off him made your lips twitch with annoyance, and your head pound.

Were all the Vanesrra blood like this?

You stood up, forcing his hand off you, tilting your head and feigning innocence, “Unfortunately, Rian…” His eye twitched at the lack of title before his name, “Much to your dislike, I am the wife of your eldest brother… And I’m quite sure he would not be pleased with your words towards me…”

Rian stiffened at such threatening words. Like the other Vanserra brothers, he knew you were off-limits. Eris had made that quite clear when he had married you all those millennials ago — even had decided to kill someone on the spot for attempting to seduce you in front of him.

That show of power and dominance for the Autumn Court Heir had made the brothers wary of you, but being the innocent wallflower you portrayed caused the brothers to seek you out more often than both of you wanted. The brothers vied for your attention, often seeking you out in their free time. They believed that if they had you by their side, they would become the Autumn Heir, pushing their eldest brother out of contestant. You played them, and used that to your advantage — you used them to gather information about the Court, confidential information only the Royal blood would know; using their infatuation to pit them against each other.

The brothers played right into your hands.

“(Y/N)…”

You watched as Rian’s form stiffened, eyes averting from yours to look behind you. He bowed his head and stepped aside, eyes glancing at you for a split moment before he turned his heels and walked down the hall into the throne room.

You knew that voice anywhere — the voice that still echoed in your head, one that still accompanied your nightmares.

Turning on your heels, you gave another deep bow, “Lady Autumn…” you greeted her, straightening from your curtsy to look at the female.

She was still as you remembered, that nightmarish day — beautiful and immortally young. Gwinthedwe hadn’t changed since that day and you couldn’t help but wonder if your brother was still alive, would he have aged as well?

You felt an arm on your shoulder and you snapped out of your thoughts, looking up at the female as she gave you a soft smile — but you could see, underneath that smile was pity. You know that she still looked at you as that child, the child that lost her older brother.

You wanted to blame her — your whole being wanted nothing but to blame her, but you knew you shouldn’t.

She was Eris’s mother, the only person Eris cherished besides yourself.

But she was also the main reason your brother died — their romance was why Felian had to be at the end of Beron’s sword. You knew she regretted it, you saw it every time she looked at you.

And all you could muster up every time was a stiff smile.

“…Was Rian bothering you, (Y/N)?” she asked in a motherly tone, light and airy, soft and gentle.

It made your heart pang.

You shook your head, gently sliding out of her hold, “No more than usual, Lady Autumn…” you answered, eyes averting away from hers, towards the large double doors.

There, you noticed Eris standing near them, awaiting the two of you to enter the throne room.

It seemed that Beron had called the entire family — he had an announcement to make.

Glancing back at the Lady of Autumn, she gazed at you with a light twinkle in her eye, one that came and gone before she stepped ahead of you, greeting her eldest son with a kiss on his forehead before she entered the room.

Eris looked back at you before silently offering his arm.

With your head held up high, ensuring your mind was wrapped in fire and protected by your hounds, you stepped up to your husband’s side, slipping your hand into the crook of his arm. His hand slid into yours, squeezing it as he signaled the guards to open the grand doors.

The groan of ancient wooden doors opened, and you couldn’t help but bring yourself closer to your husband as you stepped through the archway and into the throne room, where the Court turned their heads.

Scrutinizing gazes fell onto you, but you kept your head high, walking gracefully to the dias, and gave the Autumn High Lord and Lady of Autumn a curtsy, all the while Eris gave a bow at his waist.

“Ah, Eris… my son…” Beron’s voice was full of pride at the sight of his eldest son, “And (Y/N)… It seems the whole family has finally arrived. Sit, we have much to discuss…”

You straightened and allowed Eris to lead you to the long table that was situated in the middle of the throne room — an oak table that was carved eons ago from a large oak tree that grew right where the Forest House now stood.

It was said that the first Autumn High Lord searched high and low for the perfect place to build his Court. And when he found the tree — one that had little leaves compared to the foliage that surrounded it — that was near the top of a jagged cliffside, he declared this was where his castle should stand. He built the large castle, allowing the rivers to flow from the top of the mountain to the caverns below, creating intricate pathways and bridges that would confuse trespassers. Only those who have lived in the Forest House and be told its secrets would know the correct path. He built a multitude of rooms to house family and guests, and where that singular oak tree stood, he placed his throne.

With skillful hands, he used the wood of that oak tree to carve this table, the official insignia of the Court — the large oak tree — was carved onto the top. Millennials passed and all the Autumn High Lords added their signature to the Forest House, but this singular table — where the rulings and laws of Autumn Court were created, had never been altered or changed.

You sat in your usual spot, next to Eris, near the head of the table, across from Gwinthedwe. Your eyes focused on the High Lord as he sat at the head of the table, the Autumn Crown made of golden twigs and leaves glimmering on top of his head. Once he had settled in his chair, a pleased smirk tugged on his lips.

“I have found her… I have found Briallyn…”

👑 General Tag List: @prythianpages . @strangelygreat . @honeybeeboobaa

🕯️Series Tag List: @imma-too-many-fandoms . @assriels . @kiarathace . @xyzmeh . @doctorpeterphan . @phoenix666stuff . @glaciuswduo . @glitterypirateduck . @cat-or-kitten . @sevikas-whore . @darling006 . @inloveallthetime . @viatorem-maris

those italicized I was not able to tag.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #( .series : bleeding crowns )

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artethyst · 18 hours

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~ SMUT PREVIEW ~

Eris x Rhysand’s Sister!Reader/OC

“Look me in the eyes when you cum Bunny, no use turning away now,” Eris’ silky voice mused as you trembled in his lap, lulling you to face him with a slender, veined hand. One that gripped your delicate chin with such unrestrained lust- forcing you closer against him.

You let out a pathetic moan, clenching around him for the record number of times in one evening, thighs shaking as remnants of his remained gathered between your thighs- his unrelenting seed mixing with your own sweetness as you soaked his silken sheets.

“Do you think you can give me another one?” He spoke low and gentle, tucking a stray, moonlit curl behind your pointed ear, enjoying a sadistic satisfaction from the way your plump rosebud lips quivered as he held back a groan at the way you pulsated around him.

“E-Eri I can’t,” you whined, feeling him stiffen again inside of you. “I-I’m too sensitive,” you withered, resting your head sleepily into his chest as he continued to play with your hair, occasionally brushing your flushed cheek along the way with such tenderness you could almost sob in overstimulation.

“Your body seems to disagree,” he taunted, gently bucking his hips which sent you scrabbling at his back- fingers stretched and desperately grasping at his short wisps of hair, unable to satiate the wild fire roaring deep inside of you.

“E-Eris-“

“Yes Bunny?” He said- oh so mean, as your wide violet eyes looked at him so helplessly, the bond throbbing between you as he reminded buried so deep inside.

“J-Just one more?” you whimpered, ample breasts squished against his lean chest, their plumpness brushing delicately against his scars.

“I thought you wanted to stop, My Love,” he mocked, plucking you off of him and throwing you down onto the bed as you whined at the sudden emptiness.

He peppered searing kisses across your blushed skin, giving extra attention to the stiffened peaks he loved to indulge in as you writhed beneath him, helpless.

“Eris.” You seethed, still dripping at the feel of him- aching for him to touch the one place You needed him most. “Don’t be mean!”

“I don’t think you know what mean is, Bunny.”

~ OUT SOON ~

#eris vandaddy #fanfic #acotar #acotar fic #acotar x oc #eris vanserra #acotar x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra x oc #eris x oc #eris x reader #eris smut

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xmalfoyweasleyx · 2 days

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Songs the acotar men would be obsessed with

RHYS

He would love the peacefulness of this song and it makes him think of Feyre of course

Aren’t we all sure the man absolutely loves classical music? I’m almost sure of this. The melody fits the night court vibe so well to me

He would love Phoebe Bridgers

CASSIAN

Cassian is like a big pop girly, you can’t convince me otherwise

Yes, I chose a one direction song. He would go crazy on the bridge of this one. I just know. He would make a whole performance out of it

Cause this guy is fearless + definitely would be a swiftie, he sings and hums this song all the time

This is for when he’s in his feels. Honestly, he would cry while listening to this (I was also thinking Matilda by Harry Styles, but I couldn’t choose)

AZRIEL

Az would vibe so hard with Tame Impala

Okay, I know, not one of Taylor’s popular songs, but I feel like Az would listen to folklore or evermore when he’s in his feels and he is a secret swiftie. This song reminds me so much of him because I think he would relate and have the feeling he could never give the girl he loves peace :( :( :( crying rn

Okay listen, when he’s in the mood and feels like vibing and partying he would go so hard on this one.

LUCIEN

Lucien loves folk, another thing I’m sure about.

He relates cause it makes him think of the way he doesn’t really know where his real “home” is and doesn’t feel understood :(

A Fleetwood Mac fan for sure

#Spotify #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra #acotar #lucien vanserra x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian

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prythianpages · 3 months

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I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.

warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.

As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight.

Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.

More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours.

Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this.

“Who are you?”

Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.

“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.

“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”

Months before…

The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.

Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”

“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”

“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.

You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.

“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”

“Did you specify which one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”

The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.

“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”

“Have you seen it?”

Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.

“Perhaps.”

With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you.

“How come I haven’t seen it?”

“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes. “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”

Back to the present…

Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.

As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.

Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.

“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.

A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.

He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.

The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.

“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.

Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath.

"And who might you be?"

“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”

Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.

“Your help?” She echoes.

"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.

Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.

"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"

"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.

Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”

“Let me show you.”

Months before…

“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”

The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.

You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”

“You spoil me.”

“It’s what friends do.”

"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."

With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.

"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."

“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”

"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,

Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”

You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”

“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.

“I’m not ready.”

You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.

That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.

“You do not fear me?”

“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.

In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.

He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.

As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.

“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”

Your throat tightens. “When?”

“Soon.”

And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one.

“The tracking…I knew of it.”

Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”

Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.

Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–

“Do you see it now?”

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.

You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.

“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.

The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.

“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”

Back to Present

Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.

“Release her.”

The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.

Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she’d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.

“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”

Following his High Lady’s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.

And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.

Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.

While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.

But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.

Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?

Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.

And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.

"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.

"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.

But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.

Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.

You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.

But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.

“You missed dinner.”

“Oh.”

You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.

“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.

"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.

"Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."

"That was two weeks ago.”

"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you.

Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"

"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."

You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.

His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."

"Why?"

“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”

An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”

Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”

Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.

Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.

“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.

“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.

“Stop!”

Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.

“I’m not hurting her!”

But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.

“Are you okay?”

There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”

Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.

"Like what?”

“Don’t make me answer that.”

And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.

A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side.

Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.

“You’re not going to Starfall?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.

So you settle for a, “Why?”

"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"

The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed. "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.

"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."

"I don't have a dress." The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.

“I’ll buy you one.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.

“Starfall is tomorrow.”

Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it.

“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”

You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.

You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.

Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.

“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”

A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.

“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.

“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”

“Starfall.” Azriel answers.

The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.

“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”

“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.

Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”

You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.

It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.

“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”

“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.

She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”

A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.

The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.

“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.

On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier.

“I li–”

“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”

He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.

Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.

As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.

“It’s 500 gold marks.”

He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”

He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.

Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking.

In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.

"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.

“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”

“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”

He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.

Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.

“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”

The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.

"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.

He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.

Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.

"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.

A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."

Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"

“Yes.”

A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her."

Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."

He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.

Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.

“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.

Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.

In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.

Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.

“Azriel.” You smile at him.

“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”

“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.

Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.

“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”

Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”

“Why?”

A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.

“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.

“I’m right here.”

Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.

Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.

Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.

"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."

Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.

"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."

"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."

“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you. “Am I not your friend?”

“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”

“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more.

You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

“y/n.”

“I feel like a failure.”

Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.

“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”

“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”

“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”

“Hey, look at me.”

When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”

“Together?”

He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.

“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his.

And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.

Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.

Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.

You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions.

Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.

And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.

You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.

The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.

After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.

You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.

Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.

You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.

He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.

Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.

Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.

“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play.

Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.

"Elain, I can't--"

“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."

His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”

“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”

Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.

Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.

Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.

The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.

As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.

"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.

"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"

Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”

You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.

“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“You're going to get frostbite."

Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."

"We should head back inside," you suggest.

"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."

The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."

Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”

“Cas.”

Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“You’re lying.”

“You fell for it."

And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.

“I fell for you.”

You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."

"What?"

Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—

“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”

“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.

The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.

And then you're kissing him.

The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.

For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.

Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.

You are his mate.

The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.

“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.

“I have to go.”

“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.

“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.

For now, he has to find you.

His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.

“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”

“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”

You swallow thickly. “You know?”

The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?

Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.

“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!

tagging: @hellodarling1357

if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #abba x acotar

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assassinsblade · 4 months

Text

Arrows and Ashes

You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?

WC: 4.7k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.

Part 2

—————————————

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.

How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?

It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.

From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.

You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.

You might not make it out of here.

You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.

Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.

If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.

But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.

"Cassian..."

"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."

He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.

You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.

“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."

Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.

Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.

Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.

Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?

The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.

They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...

But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.

So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.

You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.

But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.

Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.

Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.

"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."

But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.

The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.

The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.

"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."

Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.

Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.

Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.

"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."

You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.

You were alive. You were strong.

There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.

“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.

You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.

It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.

You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.

Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.

It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.

You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.

You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.

Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.

Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.

You thought you heard Cassian retching.

And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.

Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.

But everything ached and stung.

As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.

You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.

Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.

And then you were going in and out of darkness.

There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.

But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.

You’d hear glimpses.

You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.

Big threats from a bedridden brute.

You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.

You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.

And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.

“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”

But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?

You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.

Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.

“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”

You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.

“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.

“Do you want her to live?”

You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.

Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.

Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.

It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.

Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.

Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.

You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.

It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-

“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.

Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.

Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?

You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.

“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”

You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.

A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.

You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.

“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.

“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”

Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.

“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.

“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”

Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.

His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.

Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.

“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.

You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.

“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”

Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.

You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.

You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.

"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."

You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.

Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.

You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.

But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.

Did it look as bad as it felt?

You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.

He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.

His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.

“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.

Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.

“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”

“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.

Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”

You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.

Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”

Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.

You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.

But you didn't.

“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.

“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.

Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.

“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.

You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.

“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”

And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.

Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”

He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.

A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”

Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.

“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.

It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.

Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”

“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.

You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...

“Keep her awake.”

Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.

And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.

“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”

Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.

“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."

You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.

"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”

His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.

Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.

Now you were just tired. So so tired.

“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”

But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.

Azriel was here. You were safe.

“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.

His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.

The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.

“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”

Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would look like your own when he was finished.

#acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel fluff

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