#azriel being in love with gwyn

[romanticatheartt]

I can't believe there are people in this fandom who say Mor lied about what happened at Autumn Court and led Azriel on for centuries. We have people say Gwyn, an SA survivor, has manipulate everyone with her lightsinger power and she wasn't actually SA'ed and undermine her strength in Blood Rite. We have people say Feyre overreacted and Undermine her trauma and depression to nothing after UTM and calling her ungrateful...

All of these over another man's action...

While Eris didn't try to help her, y'all make a hero out of him for not touching her. I know why he did it but the fact that you try to find an excuse for his actions and go as far as calling Mor a liar. (don't forget he slut shamed her in front of all the high lords...)

While Azriel is the one who's been panting after Mor for centuries, while Mor couldn't be more obvious about how she doesn't want to do anything with him and you didn't even consider how she might not trust him enough to tell him the truth but somehow... Mor is at fault. Somehow Azriel, not even trying to talk to her once, discuss their situation, create a safe space for her and try to be her real friend, instead of waiting for a mating bond with her, is the victim here... you all don't find his actions creepy at all because he's a "shadow daddy". While Azriel still couldn't say he's over Mor to Rhysand and at the same time tried to f*ck Elain without thinking anything more of her (no future whatsoever), but somehow, somehow... it's Gwyn's fault, who used her lightsinger power to prevent it from happening and manipulate Azriel all the same... all of these are being said because of Azriel's own actions and you don't want to blame him and hold him accountable for his doings, so you find (no, create) these disgusting excuses.

While Tamlin only sat there for 3 months and didn't even try to help Feyre and y'all excuse his lack of action for protecting, but he could get her alone right before the night of her last trial... While he sat there begged on his knees and didn't even try to stop Amarantha, and in the main time each bones in Feyre's body was breaking. And you still find an excuse for him, locking Feyre and not listening to her about how she's suffering, how she's drowning, because he's "traumatised"... but Feyre died for him and saved his court and people and the whole Prythian and destroyed herself in the process but you don't even see that... and go as far as calling Feyre a coward for hesitating to kill those faeries...

[curiousity-cell]

just had a thought regarding gwyn & the lightsinger theory & az’s regifting of the necklace

disclaimer: i do not believe gwyn is evil if she’s confirmed as a lightsinger i don’t think she even realises she has this effect on people & it might not even be a lightsinger it could very well be a nymph thing so. don’t be a dick basically

so i was basically just thinking about the bonus chapter and why azriel would regift elain’s very targeted gift (shape of a rose necklace? that’s just pure elain Why is he giving that to another woman who has no connections to roses or flowers at all. why do men. anyway). i think this sentence is really really important because while yes maybe her powers are mainly channeled more powerfully when she sings, SJM would not have put “silent music” & about his shadows here -

- if it was not important. so when he leaves the training area and discovers elain’s given her necklace back (because. obviously. she’s just been rejected by someone she thought liked her back. idk why some people think this is confusing), look at what is written:

“beautiful singing” follows him. he had “every intention” of giving the necklace back to the palace of thread and jewels but didn’t. why? i believe it’s because gwyn’s accidental lightsinging / nymph effect kept gwyn on his mind and therefore she was who he was thinking about all day. i think that’s also why the “secret thing of lovely beauty” is repeated for gwyn. now i’m not gonna say i know what a lightsingers effect has on a person but looking at the effect gwyn’s singing has on /nesta/ (read below)

i think it’s safe to say that it has a luring effect & brings out positive emotions (again: we know lightsingers are stated to be evil in the siren like way but i don’t believe gwyn is that type of person so. i’m led to believe she doesn’t realise she has this effect)

but what positive emotions do we know that azriel has had recently? liking elain. possibly loving elain. so yeah i think that gwyn’s luring powers rubbed off on azriel and that’s why he regifted the necklace to gwyn, because she was on his mind. literally. because of effect she has on people.

i feel like this also explains why it feels so jarring for him to hop from one woman to the other in a night and then go back to being in a foul mood literally the next morning after the solstice. maybe he doesn’t remember giving the necklace away? maybe because gwyn doesn’t wear the necklace he doesn’t know where it went? idk but yeah. this is my theory.

[elliemarchetti]

Gwynriel Weeks Day 5

I know today's prompt for @gwynrielweeksofficial was domestic life, and I kind of respected that, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to write this sort of fake dating AU

Prompt: Domestic Life

Words: 1064

Azriel opened his eyes slowly, annoyed by the pale sunlight coming through the decorative curtains. He had overslept, a unique occurrence, but the worst part was that he wasn't recognizing his surroundings. The room was too small, the bed definitely not his, and the light wooden door located in the wrong place, too close to the window, beyond which voices speaking an unknown language chattered softly. Instinct told him to sit up, to make sure there was no danger, and to chase away whoever was daring to peek into his privacy, but a familiar weight on his chest and left arm glued him to the mattress, its warmth comforting for both his body and his spirit.

“Good morning,” a female voice, still drenched in sleep, murmured, and Azriel remembered everything. The mission that could have resulted in a disaster, the cover story Gwyn had invented on the spot, the kind family that had found them on the borders, his injuries, and the priestess desperate plead for help. He heard her say they were a couple of diplomats returning from Vallahan, who had been tasked with managing delicate commercial relations but had been followed by criminals who had almost killed them.

"All for a stupid necklace," she had said, probably showing the pendant whose original recipient was in Prythian, in the arms of her red-haired mate. The lesser Fae believed her, and accompanied them to their village, where Azriel could wait for his right wing to recover.

“You were lucky,” their healer, a tall, lanky creature with long straw-blond hair, had told him. “If they had hit you closer to the shoulder I wouldn’t have known how to save your ability to fly.”

Azriel had shuddered at the thought, and Gwyn had immediately approached him, placing a delicate hand on his muscular arm. She had reassured him, and caressed his face, just like a worried lover. When she had left him alone to rest, she had returned with their hosts to the living room, which also served as the kitchen, and had helped them prepare dinner. They had given her a simple dress, a little worn but still her size, and an apron to avoid getting dirty, into the large pocket of which she had immediately begun to stuff fresh herbs from the small garden in the back. She had put her hair up in a soft braid, and had laughed and joked with the little ones at home, who had the same teal eyes as her and the dark skin of the Summer Court’s inhabitants.

“I would like to have wings like your boyfriend,” the youngest had told her. “So I could beat the other kids in running races.”

She hadn’t denied that their bond was romantic, she hadn’t shown the slightest sign of discomfort at the idea, and even though Azriel knew he didn’t deserve her, he kept spying on her from the crack of the door she had left open, and had listened to her tell to the youngling that even though she didn’t have wings, she was still the fastest among her friends.

Three nights had passed since that day, and although he was starting to get better and no longer felt strong pangs of pain when he tried to stretch his shoulders, he knew he couldn’t resume the mission. Gwyn had helped him with this too, to understand where to start again, how to contain the damage, but above all she had taken care of him like no one had ever done before. She helped him bathe, and get dressed, and she even fed him the first time he got up to eat, making him blush like a lovesick puppy. During the night she had asked him if she hadn’t gone too far, her voice little louder than a breath of wind, but he had reassured her by holding her close and giving her a long kiss on the forehead. The truth was that he liked that farce, he enjoyed the illusion of being able to have a normal life with her, a peaceful existence, where there were no wars, secret missions, enemies to face openly and allies whose loyalty had to be controlled with bargains and blackmail. If someone had told him he would have this kind of thoughts a few days earlier, he would’ve laughed in the face of anyone who dared picture him so weak, but now that he had experienced what it was like to have a normal life with the priestess, he couldn’t help but wish for a little house just for them in the middle of nothing, a place that hadn’t been given to him by Rhysand and that didn’t remind him of the past, maybe a cottage he'd built with his own hands, though he wasn’t sure they knew how to make something so pure. For her, he could’ve learned. With her, perhaps he could forget the horrors of his childhood, and ennoble those bastard origins without being someone’s torturer. He was grateful to Rhysand for everything he had done for him, for saving his life and offering him food and shelter and protection, but working for him inevitably took away the daily life he longed to share with a partner. He could already imagine her walking around the house barefoot, relaxed, the smell of stew in the air and a child or two jumping around asking when dinner would be ready. For centuries, Azriel had been adamant on the issue of offspring: he had a terrible father, and he wasn’t going to be the same for an innocent creature. But with Gwyn…

“Everything okay? Are you feeling sick?” she asked, propping up on one elbow to get a better view of his face, and Azriel wondered what kept him from digging his hand into the flaming cascade of hair that had escaped from the silk tie, forming a puddle of harmless fire on his naked chest, to kiss her senseless. Decency and fairness would’ve been the right answer, but it was fear and guilt, so he just shook his head and told her he was simply hungry.

“I’ll go get you something for breakfast,” she murmured, and as if nothing had happened, as if sleeping together and being so close had been the most natural thing in the world, she got up, heading towards a kitchen that wasn’t theirs but could’ve been.

[b00kdiary]

Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.

Cauldron Blessed | Azriel

Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'

Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.

Wrong.

He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.

Me, his mate- wrong.

It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.

I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.

Azriel, my mate.

Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.

And that's when I heard it.

"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."

I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.

They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.

"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."

I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.

"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."

"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."

"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."

She deserves better.

It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.

Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.

"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."

"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"

"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.

Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.

"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."

There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.

I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.

As if they had become a part of me.

It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.

Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.

And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.

I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.

I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.

Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.

My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.

I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.

And I hated myself for it.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.

And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.

He was here.

"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"

He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.

"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."

Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.

Another thing I couldn't bear to face.

"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."

As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.

His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.

"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.

"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."

My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.

I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.

"What does that mean?!"

I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.

"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.

A rejection- something he feared the most.

"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"

He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.

"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"

"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."

"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"

"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"

"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"

His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.

"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."

His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.

And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.

"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."

"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"

I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.

The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.

"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."

"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"

"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."

He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.

"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."

He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.

"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."

"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.

"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."

"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."

Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.

Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.

"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.

"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.

His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.

"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.

He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.

"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.

"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."

He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.

"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"

"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.

"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.

"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.

"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.

"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.

He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.

The Cauldron was right, so right.

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

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen

Comment to be added to the tag-list >3

[pellucid-constellations]

Azriel and reader arguing about what color to paint their room. (His black walls aren’t cutting it for miss sunshine)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: ~400

Warnings: None!

a/n: A little cute one :)

____________________________________________

"It helps my shadows travel," Azriel explained, a light tint to his cheeks.

You hummed, an amused uptick in your tone. "Are they not able to travel in all those dark little corners? Because you have many of them in your room."

"Our room. And they are."

"Perfect! Then perhaps a lighter shade? I feel so doom and gloom every time I come home. It's not good for my aura."

"Your aura?" Azriel questioned, hooking his chin over your shoulder. "What in the cauldron is that?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Gwyn was reading up on them and told me mine is out of alignment. She said it could be because of the walls."

"You have been just fine with the walls for the past year."

"Well—yes. I've been too swept up with being in love with you, obviously."

Azriel's small huff of laughter met your neck. "And you are no longer swept up, I take it."

You spun in his arms, eyes wide and brows high. Azriel stared back with a soft look of endearment, his arms running down your body to rest on your waist.

"I am still very swept up, Shadowsinger," you all but chastised. "Don't say things like that. You besmirch my character."

This conversation, although full of many lingering touches and soft smiles, was not getting anywhere. You narrowed your eyes at your mate, trying to formulate some way to get him to change his mind. You had moved into his room after all. But he had called it yours just as quickly.

You twisted your mouth as you stared up at Azriel, pretending to contemplate.

And then you sighed, resigned. "I think there's only one solution to our problem, Az."

"Oh? And what's that, my love?" he asked, smoothing back your hair as you feigned sadness.

"I'll just have to spend less time here, I think. I can come in to sleep maybe, but I'll have to move some of my things back to my old room. It's not good for my health to—"

"What color?" Azriel cut you off, his hands pausing their perusal of your face and hair. "I can have the twins pick up paint."

"But you said—"

"My darling, I was going to paint this room before you threatened to leave me. But then you threw that in and I am feeling a bit panicked, to be honest."

"I wasn't going to leave you, Azriel," you admonished.

"Wouldn't want to risk it."

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty-Seven

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Violence, suggestive content

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Two months. Two. Fucking. Months. Cassian shook his head, almost impressed.

Quite literally two fucking months. 

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. He half-coughed, half-laughed up the wine he’d been drinking. Nesta thumped his back, a mischievous smirk plastered on her normally severe face. 

Rhysand had finally gotten word that you and Azriel would be arriving… well, anytime now. Everyone had piled onto the House of Wind’s roof to await your return, the taste of new gossip already in the air. 

Nesta lounged in Cassian’s lap, searching the horizon line for the tell-tale flicker of Azriel’s wings. Gwyn, Emerie, and Mor were too busy placing bets on which of the males — if any — would come out of the fight unscathed to stare at the sky. 

“Fifty on Azriel.” Emerie said without hesitation.

There was a clatter of coins. 

“I’ve got a good feeling about Helion. The paternal protectiveness might make him especially vicious.” Gwyn reasoned. 

“Brotherly protectiveness may prove just as strong. If not stronger.” Was Mor’s opinion. “Lucien and Helion both won against Azriel last time.” 

“Az wasn’t trying then.” Emerie argued back. “Sad male that he was.”

The father-son pair tried not to let their egos grow or be injured by the conversation happening so close by. Instead, they engrossed themselves in their third chess game of the morning. It was becoming rather tedious by now. Being the early risers — and overprotective males — that they were, they’d been waiting for hours in the training ring for the first sign of your return. 

Alas, nothing so far.

A spread of breakfast plates cluttered the table they played on, silverware stacked neatly on porcelain plates. Save for the knives. Those were kept in close reach.

Rhysand tried to join in on the game, but the two males refused him time and time again. They knew better than to play with a daemati. 

“Feyre, darling,” Rhys purred. “Won’t you indulge me?” 

She smirked, but slid into her chair beside Nesta and Cassian, and across from her mate. She folded her finger neatly beneath her chin, her wall of adamant strong and impenetrable. 

Rhys was about to make his first move — pawn to E4 — when a twinkle in Feyre’s eye told him they had visitors. 

Cassian stood up straighter, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face as he cupped his hand to his mouth and whooped.

A full house. You remarked as the House of Wind came into view above the city. Its red stone spires crawled into the sky. Reaching like outstretched fingertips.

The wind sang in your ears, ruffling your hair as you clung to Azriel. 

Lucky us. You teased.

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw twitched at the flash of red hair and crown of black locs waiting on the roof. 

Helion and Lucien rose slowly, twin smirks gracing their lips as they started unclasping necklaces and tying back their hair. 

Is it too late to go back to the Cottage? Azriel growled, dropping to his feet on the House of Wind’s roof.

I’m afraid so. We’ve committed. 

You slowly untangled yourself from Azriel’s hold and planted both feet on solid ground. He caught your arm before you could stray too far, tugging you back to his side and wrapping a wing around your shoulders. 

“You’re baaaaaack!” Cassian sang, throwing his arm out in a gesture of welcome. “Gods have we missed you both. You especially, Y/n. You look lovely. The mating bond suits you.” 

He winked seductively, blowing a kiss in your direction. 

Azriel figured Cassian could do without his remaining arm. 

“I hope Azriel sufficed for your first time.” Rhysand chimed in. His voice was liquid velvet. By now, Azriel had gone stone still — a dangerous look for the Shadowsinger. “But if you’re ever interested in sampling better fares, Cassian and I—” 

Helion slammed into Azriel’s side before he could reach Rhysand, wrapping his powerful arms around Azriel’s middle and throwing him across the room where Lucien waited with fist pulled back. 

Remember what we talked about. 

Azriel was slippery and cool as he wove in and out between Helion and Lucien’s bodies. He threw out a collection of strikes that had blood splattering on the ground.

Nothing permanent. He growled.

Thank you. 

“Did you see that?” Rhysand looked aghast as he settled deep into his seat. “He was going to hit me!” He flipped his cane end over end. 

“He has no honor, brother.” Cassian agreed. But both had to admit, there was some satisfaction in getting to watch the fight instead of participating in it. 

You slunk around the edges of the training ring, trying to avoid getting too close to the tumble of bodies that were being thrown around like rag dolls. 

It would seem there was someone else trying to escape notice.

You blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here, High Lord?” 

Eris Vanserra leaned against a stone pillar, foot propped up against the wall as he swirled a glass of wine between bejeweled fingers. Aside from the gold glittering on his knuckles and along his ears, he was dressed like a commoner. His brown riding boots were well-worn with love and his shirt was left open at the top to reveal scarred and freckled skin. He chuckled when Lucien slammed his fist into the side of Azriel’s face with a growl that rattled the columns.

“None of that High Lord business.” He said, swatting the air like the very term offended him. “Call me Eris.” He smiled sideways at you, never taking his full attention off the fight. “Lucien asked me to come as backup, and I would never pass up the opportunity to help my brother,” he glanced down at you and cocked his head to the side, “And my sister.” 

“Is that what we are now? Siblings?”

He shrugged. “We always did want a girl in the family.” 

You were about to ask who Eris meant by “we” when there came a loud bang. 

Azriel held the shattered legs of a chair and Lucien kneeled on the ground, spitting splinters from his mouth. 

“You’re doing your brotherly duty wonderfully.” Your words were drier than a desert. 

Helion came to Lucien’s aide and used those powerful legs of his to drop kick Azriel in the chest and crack a rib… or two. 

“I’m also here for the entertainment.” Eris winked. 

When he turned back to the fight, Azriel was already staring at him, and he was livid. 

“Ahhhh, that’s my cue.” He tousled your hair, earning a roar from Azriel as Lucien and Helion latched onto his arms and held the Shadowsinger back. “We’ll talk again later.” 

He sauntered over to the trio, reared back his fist, and punched Azriel in the stomach. 

Nesta waved you over from her spot at the table with Gwyn, Emerie, Mor, and Feyre. It was a safe enough distance away from the brawl, even if the glasses shook every time a body hit the floor. 

“Leave the males to their fighting and eat. You must be starved.” Nesta slid over a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast slathered in a healthy amount of butter. 

You hated that Nesta was right. The frenzy had left you with little patience for eating most days. You descended upon the food. 

Gwyn was still watching the males. There was a strange fascination in her eyes as Helion spit out a mouthful of blood and Azriel punched Eris in the teeth. “I wonder how many wars could have been prevented if the males simply gathered in a room with their right hands and a ruler.” 

Emerie snorted. “I reckon at least ten.” 

Gwyn shook her head. “So.” She turned her attention to you and leaned in close. “How was it?” She did not speak the words quietly.

You blushed through a mouthful of eggs. “It was… very nice.” 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Nesta shook her head so many times that flyaway strands of blonde hair escaped her coronet. “How was it?”

Cassian moved in close, resting his head on Nesta’s shoulder. “We want details.” 

“Oh, stay out of this, Cass.” 

The Lord of Bloodshed huffed when Feyre enclosed the females in a wall of silent air. He settled for laying his head against Nesta’s back, feeling the vibrations of her body as she spoke.  

“We do want details. Spare us nothing.” 

The females hovered, breaths held in their chests for every salacious detail you were certain to tell. Their excitement made them forgetful of one very important fact — you had always been, and likely always would be, very private.

You looked at Feyre and swallowed. “We um… We broke the windows at the Cottage and need them replaced.” 

The females blinked. 

“Which ones?” Feyre asked, arching a dark brow. 

Azriel smiled at you from across the training ring, a trickle of blood spilling out from the corner of his lips as he wrestled Eris to the ground with his legs locked around the redhead’s neck. 

“All of them.” 

It was near noon when the fighting started, and the males still hadn’t ceased though the sun had set hours ago.

You walked onto the roof smothered in one of Azriel’s sweaters to escape the air’s chilly bite. This high up the mountains, the wind always whisked away heat like the sea to sand. 

Scraps of fabric littered the ground. Bloodstains lay sprinkled across stone floors like salt. It was all to be expected after a mating frenzy, and it did not surprise you that Azriel had kept up with your father and brothers for so long, but, enough was enough. You wanted your mate back.

“Ahem,” You coughed loudly. 

Azriel’s eyes flickered to you before you even opened your mouth. He had felt your presence before you’d even walked up the stairs and stepped onto the training mats. 

My love. He sighed.

Eris got the last swing in, but he missed the Shadowsinger by a half-margin. Poor Lucien, who’d been holding back Azriel’s arm, got a fistful of gold rings instead.

Lucien’s head snapped back. “What the fuck, Eris?!” He stood grasping at his nose. Blood spilled out from between his fingers. 

Eris winced. “Sorry, little brother.” 

You made another little noise and the males shoved each other away, bodies sweaty and bloodstained. Eris’s shirt was ripped to shreds, barely hanging onto his narrow shoulders as he wiped the blood from his lips and grinned like a fox. Helion was missing a nose ring and the top tip of his ear. A bruise sprouted along Lucien’s cheeks courtesy of his brother. 

But Azriel? The only evidence he carried of the fight was the thin line of dried blood between his lips. It was not unpleasant to look upon.

Less than ten seconds ago they’d been at each other's throats with tooth and nail. But as males were ought to do, once the fight was over they were quick to grumble half-hearted compliments and began picking jewelry and abandoned blades off the floor.

Azriel tipped his head towards you in the smallest of bows. When you held out your hand for him, he didn’t even bother walking to close the distance between you two. He winnowed directly to your side.

About time you finished. I’m ready for bed and I’d like to have my mate beside me.

I like it when you call me that. I like it when you call me yours.

You smiled softly at him, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. You didn’t think you’d ever tire of smiling at his hazel eyes. 

You looked to the rest of your family. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t pretend to worry about us, dear Y/n.” Eris snorted. The smirk on his face was a friendly one, highlighting his handsome, but impish, features as he gathered his cloak from the corner of the room. He swung it around his shoulders, magically repairing his clothes with a flutter of red velvet. “We’re fine. And I would never pass up an opportunity to go toe-to-toe with the Shadowsinger.” He winked at Azriel, who only scowled in return. 

That scowl turned into a barred teeth snarl when Eris brushed past you both.

His warm, amber eyes betrayed what you already knew from that brief moment of contact before he went off to his room — he hadn’t been lying when he said they always wanted a girl in the family. 

“Goodnight, sister.” Lucien said, kissing your forehead. It took everything in Azriel not to pummel Lucien once more. Your brother’s eyes flickered up to the Shadowsinger. “And congratulations on your mating bond. Truly.” 

You mouthed the words, Thank you, before accepting a final goodnight embrace from your father. 

“It’s good to have you back.” He smoothed back your hair. Then Helion clicked his tongue and thumped Azriel on the shoulder. “Greedy little Shadowsinger. Keeping my daughter away for two months.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.

The pair soon disappeared down the hallway leaving you and Azriel to linger in the night’s silence alone.

The corner of Azriel’s mouth twitched — the only sign he was in any pain when you gently brushed against his ribs. 

You smirked. It would seem that your family members had done a number on the Shadowsinger. He’d just been hiding it beneath layers of leather and male pride. What a shame that the females’ bets had been for nothing.

My Y/n, whose side are you on? He asked as you began unbuckling the gauntlets on his arms. Piece by piece, leather armor fell to the ground as steam curled up into the air. It never failed to amaze you how large Illyrian tubs were—and how long they took to fill. 

I’m on both your sides.

That is a very noncommittal answer. 

It’s a very judicious answer. 

Azriel smiled, cheeks brushing against yours as he kissed the curve of your ear. I do agree you are anything if not sensible. 

Azriel hummed in satisfaction as the last of his Illyrian leathers dropped to the floor. You knelt beside the tub, pouring in a concoction of oils as Azriel stretched out his wings. It was easy to admire the curve of his neck and the muscles of his back as his wings flexed open and close. 

When he was deep beneath the waters, eucalyptus and lavender opening up his lungs, he asked you to clean his wings. It was heaven whenever you touched them. Your soft fingertips seemed to hold all the power in the world — the power to light his blood aflame like whiskey or to soothe him like a sleep draught. Tonight your touch was peaceful as he wrapped his mind around the bond and felt your souls melt and mix like gold. 

This is to be our lives now. Azriel reminded himself once again. 

You buried yourself beneath the covers and made a little noise of contentment that never failed to make his chest grow warm. 

It is. You agreed. Would you like me to remind you? 

It was a pattern of words you’d grown used to while at the Cottage. Azriel would marvel at the mating bond—the peace that came with it—and you would take to carefully kissing the expanse of his chest, his neck, his collarbones, until there wasn’t an inch of skin that hadn’t been painted by your gentle lips. 

You began that ritual now, winding your way up his chest and ending at his eyelids. Black eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks as you finished performing the magic that was your love and devotion. 

I love you, Azriel. You reminded him. You would remind him of that truth every day of your lives. 

I love you too, Y/n. I adore you. 

You settled into his side and Azriel draped a wing around your shoulders in a move that was as natural as breathing now. Heads bowed together, shadows curled close by, and scarred hands met scarred skin as he traced the curve of your spine.

The Shadowsinger and the Inkbird. 

Together. 

As they were always meant to be.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

This is the last chapter before the epilogue y'all. I don't think I can say anything right now because it feels weird to be saying goodbye to this story so... I guess I'll save my thoughts and emotions for another time...

[itsswritten]

teeny tiny

Pairing: Fairy reader x Azriel

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: Azriel practices dwindling with you. (Just some fluff, mutual pining, pre bond snapping)

Wings Universe - read more from this couple here.

Azriel was watching you intently, a soft smile spread on his lips as his gaze danced across your expression. You were so passionate when you spoke about your work– your duty as a fairy. 

A stark difference to how he felt about being an Illyrian.

But knowing you now for only a year, you had softened that perspective he had for his own heritage. Purely by how dedicated you were to yours, and how you lit up whenever you got to speak about it. Naturally, when getting to know the IC you had wanted to learn everything about the Illyrians, everything about the sisters, about Amren. Every finer detail.

That warm nature of yours, got even the most reserved opening themselves up to you. You were always genuinely interested too, mesmerised in the differences and similarities you found among your new friends. You would never scrimp on compliments either, lovely words rolling off your tongue in awe when Cassian had explained some Illyrian lore. You even went as far to admit that you’d always thought the dark winged fae looked very cool and fierce. 

Azriel could vividly remember the heat filling your cheeks one evening at Rita’s when you’d admitted that, the faerie wine offering you some liquid courage. The comment had gone straight to Cassian’s head, prancing round Rita’s flexing in front of Nesta with a stealthy look, posing for her. “Look how fierce I look, Nes,” Nesta only rolled her eyes.

Azriel, though, had kept that comment. Tucked it away in the corner of his mind that he saved purely for you. A space filled with compliments from you, mentions of the things you loved, or observations of when he thought you looked especially beautiful– which truly was everyday. That corner of his mind was slowly growing by the day, bit by bit consuming him more and more. But he didn’t mind. For every new area you occupied in his consciousness, it replaced something dark instead. Those nightmares became few and far between after you entered his life, and he felt lighter, brighter. 

A mark that could only be left by a radiant individual– you.

Ever since he’d met you, he was absolutely smitten. There was a magnetic charge between you both, that just couldn’t keep him away. He was like a moth to a light, fluttering so dangerously close that if he wasn’t careful he might just burn. 

But he couldn’t stop. Despite the risk of it all, the risk of you burning his desires down. The obvious rejection you would undoubtedly give him if his feelings ever became known. So he settled for friendship, in fact savoured in it. He welcomed the friendly banter and familiar touches you so kindly offered him, but sometimes he dared to imagine…selfishly letting himself wonder, if he was to confess, would it really all go up in flames?…or would a warm glow await him instead.

Azriel began to look for the good parts of his own culture, an excuse to be able to share something with you. Little anecdotes of younger years with his brothers, the plants that grew in the harsh terrain of Ramiel, and what creatures may lurk in those mountains. Something Azriel noticed had piqued your interest. 

He found you numerous times after that in the library with Nesta and Gwyn, looking through bestiaries and field journals. Your commitment to the land and its creatures never wavering. You had found old scriptures, thousands of years old, of rare creatures that roamed the Illyrian land. Feline-like beasts that apparently once lived among Illyrians as their companions, a familiar of sorts. You had practically barged into Azriel’s room one evening when you had unearthed this new information, kneeled on his bed sharing this new discovery word for word as you read the translated version Gwyn had given you. 

“We’ll have to go look for them Az,” You had beamed, “It’ll be like an adventure, and well I could write it off as work too seeing as technically this falls under my jurisdiction.” 

Azriel had never cared much for his own culture and myths, actually, had rather hated every aspect of it. But somehow, watching you find the beauty between the cracks changed something in him. Over time the dismal opinion he had of Illyrians and that part of himself, paired with the progression in the camps had made a slight difference.

Today though, today, you were sharing even more of your world.

“So I thought, you know with you already being able to winnow you would grasp this the easiest” you smiled at Az.

You had brought him to the edge of one of the night court meadows you usually worked at. Elain had asked to join you on a day's work for the spring season, once confessing she wished the cauldron had turned her into a fairy just like you. You had told her she was perfect the way she was, exactly who she was supposed to be, and promised her anyone of any kind was welcome in the meadows. 

What was supposed to be a fun girls day with Elain had quickly snowballed into a field trip, the rest of the inner circle adamant they had to come too. But if your friends couldn’t master the art of dwindling then they would not be permitted in the meadows. Rhys and Feyre were fine, that unlimited pot of power they both possessed actually meant you’d caught them several months ago, rolling around in a flower enjoying some quality time together. You’re not sure who was more embarrassed, yourself or Feyre when Rhys clumsily fell out of a flower bell stark naked covered in pollen.

Before the others would be allowed to cross the threshold of the meadows you would need to teach them first.

“Dwindling is a lot like winnowing, how you move yourself to a different space. Or even how your shadows move you through space. It’s essentially the same, but it’s the space within you that’s moving…well smaller.” 

Your hands had been spread wide in your explanation, bringing them closer together as if your movement were perfectly representing how it worked. Your brows furrowed though, as Azriel looked at you with a soft dazed expression. Almost glassy eyed with a dumb smile on his mouth.

“Are you even listening to me Az?” Your tone felt stern leaving your lips. A little huff following after, that got his shadows moving in a giddy manner. It wasn’t just Azriel that found you utterly adorable, but his shadows too had a hard time hiding how your expressions caused a stir in them.

How they basked in your laughter, grew agitated in your discomfort or selfishly, liked to relish in your charming pouts.

Azriel quickly shook his head, as if shaking himself from the daze you so often ensnared him in, “I’m always listening,” he promised.

You rolled your bottom lip through your teeth gently, pausing for a moment to take in his words. How it had struck a ripple through your body, that often created butterflies in your stomach. Glancing up through your lashes you took your friend in, his large strong frame towering over you, never in an intimidating way. No, his presence, however daunting to others, always filled you with safety and comfort you hadn’t felt around many. And there were those beautiful hazel eyes that often reminded you of the sunrise after you’d worked the night shift. Golden rays breaking through the midnight blanket, spilling hazel threads into petals of blue.

Maybe one day you would tell him how when the sky filled with ribbons of gold and sapphire, that you only thought of him.

Quickly you stopped yourself from falling into your own daze, remembering his passing words. 

I’m always listening. 

That he was. So attentive, so kind, you’re not sure what you did to deserve the friendship of the Shadowsinger. You continued on, brushing over how genuine his words sounded. Rummaging around in your bag you pulled out a pouch of fairy dust.

“This amplifies your power, makes it easier to shrink. Should also help with the nausea,” you muttered, now choosing to ignore the way his eyes seemed to drink you up.

It was getting increasingly hard to disregard the effect the Shadowsinger had on you. He was so beautiful, so pretty– in that rugged Illyrian way. And he was very thoughtful too, and there was the way he said things to you sometimes that made it hard not to assume it meant more. Every word felt like a whispered kiss or unspoken promise, that you found yourself at times hoping, and daydreaming that perhaps it did mean something deeper.

Sprinkling the dust over Azriel, his nose scrunched a little at the scent. So familiar, he realised it reminded him of you. That lingering scent of fairy dust was always on you, mixed with vanilla and hints of honey, an underlying breeze of peonies. Your scent alone was enough to enchant him, enough to know he would be dreaming of you again tonight. His consciousness would slip him into a blissful haze of what it would be like to envelope himself in the crook of your neck and laze in your aroma.

Gently you took his hands into yours, his ragged hands engulfing your own. 

Azriel couldn’t help notice the stark contrast. How perfect and soft you were, delicate and light. He was rough and weathered around the edges, hardened by war and conflict. A gentle squeeze from you pulled him from his thoughts, realising how close you were now, he would only have to lean down slightly to bridge the gap between you. So close he could press his lips to top of your head and–

As if brushing that thought from his mind, his shadows moved towards you. Brushing a strand of hair from your face, while the other tendrils wove through the air in between you both like a dance.

“Are you ready Az? Remember everything I taught you?”

He nodded. 

Channelling his power in the technique you had shown him, his eyes fluttered shut. Honing in on the warmth of your hands and the faint sound of the breeze. His siphons simmered a glow as vibrations of power and space moved over the sharp lines and angles of his body, retracting and restricting the space within.

The air sounded different all of a sudden.

Vibrations growing louder, rustles becoming more powerful. Slowly Azriel opened his eyes, looking down at you, standing as you were before. He questioned if he’d even managed to do it, but as he glanced up he saw the tall green vertebrae of the grass tower above. The strands gently swaying in the wind, allowing the morning sun to filter through and cast viridescent shadows across the earth.

He had done it. He had dwindled.

The air was filled with a symphony of sounds, the song of crickets and the gentle rustling of the grass in the wind. Butterflies flitted by, leaving a gentle gust of wind in their wake. They were larger than him now, and he could vividly see the intricate designs and colours that lay on their wings.

“Az? Azriel are you okay? How do you feel?”

He hadn’t even realised you were talking, not until your hand gently pressed against the side of his face. Your thumb tracing the line of his jaw, as you looked up to him in concern.

“I feel fine,” he replied, finally remembering to take a breath as your touch left him.

“No nausea? You looked a little peaky for a moment, I was worried,”

Your remaining hand had slipped from his gentle grip, a simmer in his chest wishing it would remain. But Azriel unfurled his wings, stretching the dark membranes out, distributing his weight onto either feet to check his balance. 

“Okay…” You smiled then, “This went better than I thought, you know it’s Cassian I’m most worried about. I just have a feeling he’ll sneeze himself into a giant or something,”

“Wait, is that possible?”

“No, or at least I don’t think so. But somehow I could see it happening with Cass,” You laughed. The angelic waves of your laughter pulled up the corners of his lips as he let out a chuckle.

Oh Azriel could stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you, no one else in sight for miles.The sun basking it’s glow upon you both. Your laughter faded into a comfortable silence before you closed your eyes, head tilting up towards the sun as the rays washed over your face. 

Azriel thanked the Mother again for the blessings he had received since knowing you, because this moment right here– to be with you was surely one.

“Y/n…” Azriel couldn’t help breathe your name out, it barely a whisper as words he kept tucked in that corner of his mind seemed to pile into his mouth.

Gently your eyes fluttered open, your expression turning to him with a light hum in question. But before he could even untangle the mess of confessions on his tongue, a shadow loomed above.

With a slight jump, you hastily stepped back, colliding into the tough warm frame of the Shadowsinger, craning your neck up to see what had cast such a darkness.

A shadow– Azriel’s shadow.

The smokey tendril seemed to loom over you both inquisitively. It’s movements speaking of a curiosity to how its master was now so tiny.

“There’s always one,” Azriel grumbled, his hand tenderly moving to the small of your back for a moment as he stepped to your side.

Azriel crossed his arms across his chest, his expression boring on unimpressed as he glanced up at the disobedient wisp.

“You’ve got no excuse,” Azriel chastised, referring to the other shadows that had obediently followed an appropriate size to him after dwindling. 

The shadow slumped a little in response, eliciting a small gasp from you at how utterly adorable you found it. As if remembering you were there the shadow turned it’s attention. Azriel’s earlier command to resize itself held no authority but it quickly slinked itself slightly smaller for you. It’s size resembled something of Azriel’s shape as it twirled around you making the layers of your dress flutter up in the wind.

“Oh my…” Your cheeks heated a rosy hue as you attempted to hold your dress down in the gust of air.

“Sorry about that,” Azriel heaved, his patience growing thin as he tried to hide his slight embarrassment at his unruly shadow.

“It’s quite alright Azriel,” you reassured him with a light chuckle, the smile on your lips easing him. The use of his full name, raising goosebumps on his skin.

It wasn’t the only thing your smile eased, the shadow, as if melting under you, softened like honey. Oozing back behind Azriel’s wings in a dazed infatuation.

“Come,” you took Azriel’s hand in yours. Pulling him gently through the blades of green. “You should settle in this size for a while, make sure everything feels okay before we return,”

Azriel watched your fingers interlock with his, the smaller wisps of his shadows winding around your joined hands. Whispering words to one another that he couldn’t hear. 

He swallowed hard, once, twice taking in the view before him. Your usual pink dress dipping to the small of your back, taut flawless skin kissed under the sun as you pulled him through the green. No wings on show, though.

He wondered when you would share that part of you…if ever. 

Azriel would never ask, but he hoped one day you trusted him enough.

That he would be so lucky. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, sending him a soft smile that seemed to bury itself deep into his chest. He pondered, if for only a moment, that perhaps he was lucky.

a/n: just a little instalment from your favourite couple! <3 What else do you want to see from them?? (Other than flower sex , I promise this is coming👀)

forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @marscardigan

Wings tags: @minaethrym

[really-fanny-longbottom]

Only In My Dreams [Part Three]

Summary: The beginning of the end.

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, abuse and burns (not too descriptive)

Words: 8.9k

A feeling of numbness began to invade you from the top of your head to your toes.

As you closed your eyes and calmed your breathing, you felt your shattered heart one last time before focusing on your emotions and feelings and bringing them to the surface.

Realizing that it was impossible to reach all of them, you focused on those whose presence had become a habit and which had begun to suffocate you day after day. 

Jealousy - upon seeing that Azriel's courtships were not intended for you.

Pain - realizing that the Spymaster eye's weren't looking for you the way yours did for him.

Insecurity - thinking that you will never be enough for the Shadowsinger that occupied your thoughts.

Sadness - understanding that you will never find yourself in the arms of the person you most want to hold you.

Broken heart - when you realize that the male you love will never love you back.

You let them emerge, and when they did, you let them swim back and forth as you dug your way through them looking for that little switch. 

The switch that was about to solve all your problems. In a few moments, it would mend your heart and bind it with a steel chain around it, to prevent it from breaking again - from feeling again. 

After digging your way for a few more seconds, the switch came into your reach and as you headed towards it, you noticed the darkness that surrounded it.

The darkness that would invade your veins and corrupt your heart - the price to pay.

By reaching for the switch with an invisible hand, you let the happy memories with your friends replay in your mind, granting one last wish to your aching heart. 

It was while reliving those memories that you were hesitant about what you were about to do, seeing the good times you had spent with the friends that had become your family.

Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, Rhys, Cass, Feyre, Mor and Amren - all their faces appeared in turns bringing a slight smile and a feeling of comfort. 

But it shattered when the image of Azriel and Elain holding hands and exchanging smiles invaded your mind without permission. 

You would never be her and he would never look at you that way.

That was your breaking point.

You wouldn't continue to suffer for a male who didn't even dedicate a second of his time to acknowledge you.  

And just like the snap of a finger, the hesitation disappeared, anger replacing it, making the invisible hand reach out and finally complete its task. 

With a simple click... 

You turned it off. 

And become darkness. 

-

A storm was heading towards Prythian. 

Black clouds haunted the sky, an immense darkness hid behind them, preparing to release its confined monsters at the right moment.  

The Courts were dominated by gray — a consequence of the storm that was about to break. 

The trees had lost their color; the flowers and food planted in the gardens stopped growing; the water in the rivers and seas was still, with no wave being formed; the animals had fled and a crushing cold forced every inhabitant to stay at home.

The sun was nowhere to be found. 

With no explanation from the High Lords for what was happening, the inhabitants were left at their mercy to conjure one.

'This is the work of witches,' some said.

'Prythian is dying. It's the end of the world,' said others.

But the rumor that most circulated among the Courts? The rumor that many believed but were too afraid to say out loud? The rumor that due to fear was whispered between ears or past written in letters?

Someone had disturbed a powerful being, and this was the result of their wrath.

Now, Prythian was condemned to face their punishment. 

The entire extension of Prythian seemed cursed, but no Court was worse than the Night Court.

Mainly Velaris.

All eyes that fell on the city would only take a second to identify it as the epicenter of the storm.

After all, that was where the 'curse' itself began. 

-

Velaris was paused in time.

Flying over what was once vibrant and full of life, Velaris, Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys continued their search.

They flew through the empty streets, past the closed shops, with no sign that anyone lived there. 

If the males didn't have the age they have, they would never have believed that this had once been the City of Starlight. 

It all started four weeks ago. 

Four weeks since Madja's drastic revelation about you.

Four weeks since the last time any of them had seen you.

You had disappeared without leaving any kind of trace.

While Amren, Nesta, and Feyre read all the books Helion had lent them about rare powers, Mor on the Continent trying to find someone who knew more about empaths, the males were tasked with finding you.  

The brothers had already flown over the entire Night Court to try to find any trace of you - but without success.

It was as if you had simply evaporated.

They went as far as contacting Eris to find out if the Heir knew anything about you. 

Although they didn't get any information regarding you, the males ended up discovering that Eris himself was looking for you.

Apparently, your news powers had reached the ears of Beron, awakening his interest in you.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time Beron had been interested in you. 

News in Prythian never took long to reach all the Courts. 

When the first rumor about an empath in Prythian emerged, all the High Lords were agitated, especially when that same empath was one of the members of Rhysand's Inner Circle.

Empaths were very rare, with only two recorded in the last twenty thousand years, so the extent of their powers and capabilities remained a mystery. 

Rhysand had to set up a meeting and introduce you to the High Lords personally to prove you weren't a threat. 

And you weren't. The High Lords saw firsthand what a caring, kind, and gentle person you were.

They saw your abilities as a healer and the purity in your eyes.

You were the epitome of kindness. 

There was no reason to fear you.

Until now. 

They could barely believe what you had become. It was as if the girl they had met decades ago had never existed. 

As if it had been nothing more than a dream. 

Helion was the first to find out about your situation when Rhysand came to him.

Rhysand will never forget how Helion said you must have suffered too much and too long in silence to be able to become what you became. 

The warning that followed still haunted the male in his sleep 'Do not underestimate her, Rhysand. It's innocent and pure people like Y/N who can find the deepest darkness within themselves when motivated to do so. She may not have been a threat before, but she certainly is now.' 

The truth that no one wanted to admit was that they were scared of you.

Scared of your new powers and what you would be able to do with them. 

And now Beron was looking for you. 

You were never a violent or aggressive person. In fact, in all the years since you joined the Inner Circle, they had never even seen you raise your voice.

But now...with your emotions turned off, and your powers, if Beron finds you and you feel threatened... 

They weren't sure that Beron would come out alive from that confrontation.

They didn't know how far you would go to protect yourself, but there was one thing they knew: they needed to find you quickly.

-

On a distant illyrian mountain, in an unpopulated zone, an abandoned cabin had been improvised as a laboratory.

The cabin contained only three rooms: a bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room/kitchen.  

This last room was the largest of the three, but due to all the tables that filled it, it gave the impression of being the smallest.  

On the tables against the walls were various dried plants and flowers — in other words, dead. 

You were sitting on a wooden stool in front of one of the tables in the center — that one was loaded with green plants and flowers with colors ranging from blue, red, and yellow.  

Your eyes studied a sunflower while your hands surrounded it with a darkness they emitted.

You watched as the poison began to spread through it from the root to its petals — how it began to lose its color and wither with each passing second. 

This has been your occupation for the last four weeks.

Ever since you discovered your new powers, you have dedicated yourself to learning about them.

All those sleepless nights, the days with little food in your stomach, the headaches, and the hours you spent sitting had been rewarded.

You could poison a entire plant or in a specific place of your choice, it could spread quickly or slowly, it could be deadly immediately or last for hours, you could remove the poison and bring the plant to its original state.

But the most interesting part? You had accidentally discovered during one of your experiments a few days ago that even after its death, you were able to control it. 

That's what you had spent the last few days working on. 

You believed this was the final step to achieving your full power. 

You watched closely as the flower reached its final stage. You could feel its vitality fading away at your fingertips. 

With one last movement of your hand, the flower reached its end.

Letting a few seconds pass, you took the opportunity to readjust yourself on the bench and stretch a little. You felt the muscles in your arms and back relax instantly. 

You didn't know how long you had been sitting here working on the flower, but when you looked out the window and saw the light of a new day outside, you realized that a few hours had passed. 

With your eyes finding the flower once more, you ignored the headache that was beginning to form on the right side of it, you had had many lately preceded by a bad night's sleep because of the nightmares that had invaded your mind for almost two weeks. 

You had never had nightmares before, and these were mysterious. You couldn't understand them no matter how hard you tried. 

You let go of that thought, pushing it deep into the back of your mind, and focused your attention on the task at hand and extended your hands towards the flower. 

This was the moment of truth. 

Slowly, with each rotation of your wrist, the flower started moving.

A big smile appeared on your face as you watched the flower move with the direction of your hands — following your lead. 

Your attention shifted to your hands as you realized what was happening.

Your glow was changing color. 

Transforming.

What used to be darkness was now a bright red. 

The reach of your full power. 

However, your moment of triumph was interrupted when your ears perked at the new sounds outside of the cabin.   

Footsteps.

Several of them.

The cabin only had one entrance and one exit, and that was where the intruders were headed.

You knew exactly who they were. You knew they were looking for you. They had come very close to finding you the last time, forcing you to move. 

Luckily for them, back then, your priority was learning your new powers, but this time? This time, you were irritated.

Your eyes didn’t leave the flower when the cabin door was kicked open and five Autumn soldiers burst into your small laboratory.

You had heard that Beron was looking for you, but you thought the male wouldn’t be stupid enough to send his soldiers to the Night Court — especially Illyria. 

Apparently, you were mistaken.

The soldiers began shouting orders that you ignored.

Did Beron really think he could capture you? Use your powers as he pleased? 

Without warning, the cabin door slammed shut, the hinges creaking.

The males' heads turned toward the sound faster than humanly possible, yet they dared not move when a melody followed — one that sounded like a lullaby.  

With trembling hands and legs, the soldiers tried to maintain their composure as they turned in the opposite direction. 

"Tell me," your voice rang out across the room, "Which one of you can winnow?" 

There was a deadly tone in your voice, enough to send shivers down the males' spines and cause doubts in their beliefs.

Your voice was light, calm, and delicate like a siren's song luring its victims to their death.

In a matter of a second, regret settled in the eyes of the soldiers, too scared to even remember that they had been questioned. 

When none of them responded, you moved just an inch on the stool, allowing the soldiers to see what you were doing.

Without making any noise or sudden movements, the males began to walk backwards slowly while they increased the strength with which they gripped their swords, their eyes still fixed on the scene they were witnessing — a dead flower being guided by the action of your hands that subjected it to what could only be described as the dance of death. 

The noise of a soldier swallowing the lump in his throat reached your ears, the same one that made the wise decision in answering you. "All of us."

The small laugh you let out made them shrink.

"Well, that's perfect," you finally turned to them, "that way, I don't have to waste time guessing.” 

Mouths dropped at the sight of you. The eyes that held nothing behind them, the long hair down to your waist, the simple long white dress you wore, your bare feet, and the smile that would scare away the bravest warriors. 

Behind you, the flower continued to dance without ever stopping. 

One of the soldiers gripped his sword tighter. “Wh...What...What's that supposed to mean?” his voice failed to hide the fear that was rising from him. 

You stood up.

The soldiers backed away even more, their backs hitting the wall behind them.

"By the Cauldron..." one of them muttered. 

Five too-fast heartbeats filled the silence of the room. 

You smiled.

“I need you to deliver a message to Beron for me.”

The soldier, who was on the far left side, began to search for the doorknob at an unnatural speed.

The smell of fear was palpable in the air. 

"Lucky for me that you all can winnow, but unlucky for you," you took another step, watching their faces change as they realized what was about to happen. "I only need one of you to deliver the message." 

The last thing the soldiers saw was your eyes turning red before everything exploded. 

-

Azriel didn't know how many hours he had been flying or how many laps he had already made over Velaris.

Lost in his thoughts, the male made the mistake of looking down. 

He flew over a small, familiar house at the top of a street.

Inside the small house, there was an old healer with her face stained with tears and pain in her chest caused by a worrying heart. 

The old healer was in the same position as the previous days. Sitting at the window in her living room, waiting for her beloved niece to return. 

But with each passing day, Velaris grew grayer, taking a bit of the old female's hope with it. 

Guilt struck his heart. 

The last time he had seen Madja was five days ago. 

Nuala and Cerridwen had prepared several casseroles to help the old female through what was the worst time of her life.

Feyre offered to take them, and Azriel and Cassian volunteered to help. 

The Spymaster expected Madja to kick him out or release her anger on him, but she never did.  

The healer welcomed him with open arms and prepared him some tea as thanks for his help. The suffering in her was visible; red eyes, low voice, bent posture, slumped shoulders, and several handkerchiefs soaked in tears on the living room table. 

How could things have gotten to this point?

The promise Azriel made to himself flashed through his mind — he would bring you back into Madja's arms.

The movement of Cassian's wings broke his trance, and Azriel's eyes left the small house and resumed his flight.

Four weeks without any information.

The males even thought that you might have left the Night Court and gone to a different one. 

But no wards had been passed, and they would know if anyone had passed them. 

So wherever you were, you were still within the borders of their Court.

But where? 

The brothers flew to meet each other, and when Rhys was preparing to speak, something happened. 

A surge of power ripped through the Night Court with a red flash accompanying it. 

The mountain and the ground shook, the water rattled, and somewhere, screams were torn from the throats of the citizens in their homes.

The males were sent straight to the ground, their wings and Illyrian strength not enough to keep them in the sky. 

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand had to protect their eyes from the intensity of the flash while trying to remain stable on a shaking ground and ignoring the overwhelming feeling they felt as the wave of power passed by the entire Court.

So many thoughts ran through their minds.

What was happening? Was Prythian being attacked? Were the girls okay? 

After a few more seconds, the flash began to diminish until it disappeared completely, leaving only the remains of something red all over the sky.

The mountains and the ground regained their stability and the rivers their calm. 

As they raised their heads, the brothers saw what appeared to be red powder falling from the sky and towards the ground.

Cassian was the first to pick up a small amount and rub it between his thumb and index finger, trying to decipher what it could be. 

With no answers, Cassian turned his attention to the males sitting next to him, checking for injuries, and noticed that they were both doing the same to him.

After checking that both they and the city were okay, the three of them took to the skies, and their eyes immediately found the source of the wave of power — Illyria. 

The Illyrians would never attack them. They could be brutish and arrogant, but they were not stupid, leaving only one possible explanation. 

"Y/N." Azriel whispered.

"It's her," Rhys confirmed as he stretched out his hand, where remnants of the red flash landed on it. 

Shock did not fail to appear on the males' faces. None of them mentioned what they had just witnessed, but all three knew.

Your power has grown.

You were stronger. More powerful. 

Cassian broke the silence, if his brothers weren't going to talk, then he would "She knows," a silent agreement hovered between them, It was only a matter of time before you found out about your new powers. 

"What do you think she's doing with it?" A bad feeling invaded them at the General's words.

Something big was about to happen. 

They all knew it.

"We should go back." Rhysand ignored his brother's words — he wasn't prepared for this conversation.

"What?" Azriel protested, his wings beating faster with the anticipation of going to look for you. "We finally know where she is, and you want to give up?" 

"No one's giving up, Az," Cassian placed his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down, "but look around you. You just felt her power, and we've been flying for hours. We can't go to her like this." 

Azriel removed his brother's hand from his shoulder, a bit harsher than he intended, but he couldn't stop the anger that filled every word of the scream he released next. "What, you think she's going to attack us?" 

Cassian's wings lowered a little, and he didn't hide the look of defeat he felt nor the hurt it caused in his chest when he said what had to be said "I don't know."

Shock ran through the Shadowsinger's body, making him move away as if those words had burned him. 

Cassian let out a small sigh before continuing, "That's not our Y/N, Az. We don't know what she's capable of, and we have to assume the worst-case scenario." 

When Azriel tried to protest again, Rhys stopped him. "Cass is right. We'll be back in a few hours when we're recharged."  

Azriel knew they were right, but the guilt that invaded him didn't let him rest so easily.

"Besides, we need to know if the girls are alright."

Azriel nodded. If Helion's words were truly true, if you now posed a threat, then they couldn't risk surprising you without being prepared. 

That single thought hurt him more than a sword strike, but that was the new reality they faced. 

The males resume their flights but with their destination being the House of Wind.

There was nothing they could do for now. All that was left for them was to wait.

Azriel looked back.

To the mountains where you were.

The mountains that hid you from him.

Or the mountains that protected him from you?

-

Eris Vanserra was having a long day, and there was no sign lurking that it was about to end. 

As he walked through the halls of the Forest House, Eris let his mind wander to the meeting he had just left.

Beron had just made his alliance with Koschei and the mortal queen official, but that wasn't what bothered the young Heir.

His father had also told his council that his search for you was not over. Not even when the only soldier who had returned described word for word what had happened in Illyria. 

The soldier's testimony did not have the same effect on the High Lord as it had on his council. 

While the old males had shrunk in their seats at the description of your powers, Beron had moved closer as if to hear better. 

A hand slammed down on the meeting table hard enough to stir the liquids in the crystal glasses that sat in front of each member.

"Speak, boy!" Beron demanded.

"She... She's different, High Lord. I've never seen anything like this before, not even with Hybern."

"Be specific! Do I look like someone who has the patience for riddles?"

"Death." The soldier said quietly, as if afraid that the walls might have ears.

Beron stood up from his seat at the revelation, curiosity gnawing at his body. Eris leaned back from his chair and gripped the arms of the chair in an attempt to soften the shock that this news had caused him, while Beron's council struggled to regain color in their faces.

"She looked like Death." The soldier finished before being dismissed.

When the door to the meeting room closed, the council erupted in screams. 

The males of the council tried to dissuade Beron from his search for you but without success, as was to be expected. 

His greed grew, as did his hunger for power. Now knowing what you were capable of, his desire to find you was now even greater, with the several soldiers who had left the Autumn Court with orders to find you as soon as the meeting ended as proof. 

That was what bothered him. Not the change in your powers, not what happened with the soldiers — his soldiers — but your well-being.

But why?

He was beginning to think he had lost his mind.

Eris had even made the mistake of staying after the meeting ended to try to persuade his father to continue searching for you.

That had earned him the burn on his shoulder that he now bore. 

What was going on with him? 

Why hadn't you left his mind in these last few weeks?

His brain was telling him to ignore the situation and focus on the potential war with the Death God that was becoming more real with each passing day. 

But his heart... his heart was telling him to write a letter to Rhysand asking about you. To know if they had found you yet or if they had any clues about you.

Anything to comfort him.

Little did he know that this would not be necessary because when he opened the double brown doors that led to his room, his eyes met those that appeared in his dreams. 

There you were — sitting on his bed with one leg over the other in what looked like a tight black dress.

A smile formed on your lips as you stared at the male in front of you. "Did you miss me?" 

-

"That was Y/N?" Nesta's voice was so low that if Cassian hadn't been right in front of her, he probably wouldn't have heard her.

"Yes." Cassian confessed to her as he witnessed the pain appearing in his mate's eyes.

Cassian didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her.

This situation was difficult for everyone, but the General knew it was especially so for the female he was trying to comfort.

Your relationship with Nesta was different from everyone else's. It had started out as rocky as a bad day, but just as bad days never last forever, neither did your beginning. 

Before you knew it, you and Nesta were laughing together, exchanging books, walking arm in arm, and going almost everywhere together.

You had become sisters.

And the thought of losing you caused her more pain than she could have ever imagined.

As Nesta pulled away from her mate’s arms, she faced her brother-in-law.

“What’s the plan?” You had fought for Nesta, never backing down, never giving up, and now she was going to do the same for you.

Rhys’s eyes softened, and he squeezed Feyre’s hand tighter before answering, “Cass, Azriel, and I are going to Illyria, see if we can find out where she’s hiding.”

Nesta nodded, but before she could speak, a voice interrupted her.

“How will you know where to go?” Elain asked.

“We’ll follow the trail of the power surge. That should be enough to tell us where it started.”

Elain nodded in understanding before her eyes flicked to Azriel. 

The male was quick to look away, focusing on his brother. 

"She might not be there anymore." Cassian pondered. 

"Still, it's worth a try." Feyre spoke a few seconds later. 

Rhys gave her a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes — Feyre mirrored it. 

An awkward silence fell over the family. 

These past few weeks had been the strangest they had ever experienced. Sometimes, it felt like it wasn't even real, but rather a never-ending nightmare — sometimes they had to pinch themselves to make sure they were awake, and this was actually happening. 

"I'll go with you." Nesta broke the silence. 

Cassian knew there was no point in arguing, so he just nodded, wrapping his arms around her. 

Azriel nodded as well before turning to Feyre and asking the question everyone was eager to know the answers to.

"News from Mor?"

Feyre let out a long sigh before shaking her head.

"We received a letter earlier. She arrived in Rask three days ago but hasn't found anything yet. She says there's an old male who's experienced in rare powers, but it might not mean anything," Feyre let out another sigh, "she says she'll let us know when she finds something." 

Every day, they waited anxiously for a letter from Mor. With hope fading by the day, they believed more and more that the answer lay on the Continent.

Azriel was interrupted from his thoughts by a gentle touch on his shoulder, and he turned to find the middle Archeron sister standing in front of him.

"Can we talk?" She asked softly.

Looking back and seeing the rest of his family chatting, Azriel nodded and followed Elain into the hallway.

When the female in the pink dress tried to touch his hand, he pulled away faster than her brain could process.

Azriel remained silent, letting Elain start a conversation he had no desire to have.

"What happened that night?"

His response ended up being a frown rather than words, so Elain continued.

"The night of our date. You never showed up at the restaurant," When Azriel stayed silent, she continued, "I know you went looking for her, Azriel. I heard Madja say you went to the clinic looking for Y/N. Why?" 

Azriel had the answer, but it wasn’t with Elain that he wanted to share it. 

And as if his brother had heard his thoughts, Rhys appeared in the hallway, telling Azriel it was time to go. 

Azriel didn’t look back before following his brother and taking off. 

- 

Eris checked that no one was around his room before closing the doors.

The male leaned against the door for a few moments as if to make sure you were real.

"You're here."

Your smile widened. "I am." 

Eris matched your smile and moved to sit on the wooden chair in front of the bed before undoing a few buttons on his shirt and moving to unbutton his boots.

"Did Beron get my message?" 

"He did." 

You watched him for a moment before speaking again. "So you know about my powers." 

"I don't care about your powers." He was quick to respond. 

"What about your soldiers?" 

"They shouldn't have threatened you." 

"But he keeps looking for me." 

Eris continued to untie his boots as he confirmed your statement. 

"I told him to stop but he wouldn't listen." 

"Hmm," you slowly stood up before stopping in front of him, "is that how you got that burn?" 

Eris's hands stopped immediately, and without moving much, he directed his gaze to the white shirt that had fallen down when he bent over, now revealing yet another of Beron's marks. 

Eris sighed and stood up, leaning his back against the wood of the chair. 

His golden eyes met yours and he didn't look away, not even when he considered what lie to tell. 

"I saw your mother when I was coming here." 

You moved closer. 

"She was applying what I think was a cream to her bruises." 

Eris closed his eyes. He had heard about the argument his parents had had a few days ago when he was away at meetings. 

His mother hadn't told him anything but he had assumed how it had ended. 

The Heir felt a weight on his legs and arms wrapping around his neck. When he dared to open his eyes, he found yours a few inches away. 

"Do you want me to kill him?" 

The question took him by surprise. No one had ever dared to say such words. 

"Would you do it if I said yes?" 

It was no secret that Eris dreamed of the day he would put an end to Beron's reign. One of his greatest goals was to free Autumn and his family from the clutches of that male. 

"For you, yes." 

Eris laughed and tilted his head back only to be grabbed by the chin by a hand smaller than his and meet your eyes again. 

"I'm serious. Say the word and it will be done."

The owner of the golden eyes was lost for words. No one had ever cared about him like this.

Not knowing what to say, Eris brought your lips together.

You kissed him back almost immediately, adjusting yourself on his lap.

Eris broke the kiss just long enough to say, "I was worried about you." 

You laughed into the kiss, responding with a quick, "I can take care of myself, prince."

Eris laughed back, "I know, but I missed you." 

His response did something to your heart — something you couldn't quite put your finger on. 

It would be a lie if you said you came here just to warn him about his father. 

For some reason, this male made you feel things that shouldn't have been possible. 

Your brain was telling you to pull away, to leave, but that thought was forgotten when your heart answered for you. 

"Then show me how much you missed me." 

And so he did.

-

Darkness. Silence.

Were the first two things you came across.

Total darkness surrounded you.

You couldn't make out what was around you. No matter how hard you tried to squint your eyes, they couldn't make out any kind of shape, not even a shadow.

No noise could be heard — wherever you were, silence dominated that place.

What was going on?

How did you end up here? What were you doing here?

"Hello?" 

You didn't get any response back, which led you to assume that you were alone. Whether that was a good thing or not, you didn't know, but something told you that you were about to find out. 

As you took a step forward, you stretched out your arms in the hope of finding a surface that you could use to guide yourself.

It took several steps until you found what seemed to be a wall. As you let your hands run along it, you realized that its surface was rocky and damp and that your footsteps echoed.

Always with one hand on the wall, you let yourself be guided to whatever was waiting for you on the other side. 

Seconds.

Minutes.

Hours.

You didn't know how long you had been walking, your hand already cold from being pressed against the wall for so long.

Just when you were beginning to think that the darkness was endless and that you were lost or trapped, that there was no way out, something answered your worries.

A weak beam of light entered your field of vision, indicating the path to salvation. 

In what seemed like a matter of survival, you ran towards the light that gradually grew brighter as you approached.

The moment the light became a little stronger, you realized that you were inside a cave when you saw the entrance.

When you finally left the cave, you saw that the light that was offered to you came from the moon, hence its dim brightness. 

Without any intention of returning to the infinite darkness, you walked towards the trees that led you to a lake.

The lake was large, surrounded by pine trees, and with only the moonlight illuminating it and reflecting on its water.

The view was enchanting. It reminded you of one of those places where people would go when they needed to be alone or to think.

A place that would become someone's favorite place — where they would feel nothing but tranquility and security.

Where they could escape reality and take a break from their problems for a few hours.

Unfortunately, not everything is as it seems.

Just as a wolf can seem affectionate and friendly at first, causing its prey to let its guard down moments before attacking, this lake also seemed like a place of peace and not one of danger. 

Your feet took you to the edge of the lake, where you crouched down and stretched out your hand to be enveloped by the water.

The water was pleasant and reminded you of summer days. You were swinging your hand from side to side when something caught your attention.

There, reflected in the lake, right behind you and a lot taller, emerged a dark figure. 

A figure that was impossible to make out, could it be anything — a person, an animal, a shadow?

Acting on instinct, you turned as quickly as possible, and the only thing you could find was darkness accompanied by a deep voice.

"Come find me." 

-

Your eyes flew open.

Your breathing was fast, as was your heartbeat — as if they were in a race that they both wanted to win. 

A line of sweat ran down your chest while another on your forehead followed suit.

You sat up slightly in bed as your eyes quickly adjusted to the dark room.

You saw the desk in the middle of the room where the pile of letters still stood, the tall windows that were covered by brown curtains, the fireplace where there were still traces of the wood that had burned a few hours ago and finally — the warmth that rested against your back.

You were still in Autumn.

In Eris's room.

The male's arm was around your waist, his chest against your back, and his previously closed eyes were now open.

Those golden eyes that did something unknown to your heart.

Eris sat up, remaining behind you, bringing his free hand to brush your hair away from your bare shoulder where he placed a light kiss.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat at the brush of his lips against your skin, but you attributed those thoughts to your sleepy state. 

With his arm still around your waist, he pulled you towards him until your back was resting against his bare chest and your head on his shoulder.

"Is everything okay?" Eris asked, barely above a whisper.

What was he doing to you?

How was it that after everything you had done to protect your heart, this male could undo it with just a touch? 

"Little fox?" 

You closed your eyes at the nickname. Your cheeks felt hot — from the nickname or from the male holding you?

You felt a warm hand take its place over your heart, a gesture so simple yet meaning so much.

Your heart began to stabilize, your body to relax, and your breathing to return to its normal state as Eris began to make small circles with his hand.

"I'm okay, Eris." You couldn't help the small smile that pulled the corners of your mouth upward until your dimples appeared. 

This was becoming too real — too deep.

You had to get away. From this male, from this place — from everything that reminded you of a certain Heir with red hair and golden eyes that reminded you of the sun

"Are you sure, little fox?"

Whatever this was between you and this male couldn't continue.

How could he be having this effect on you?

"Mm-hmm." Your response was followed by a light kiss on your temple before another was placed on your cheek.

What was this feeling in your belly? Why was your heart reacting like this?

You had to put an end to this. You were going to tell the male that whatever this was was nothing more than a bit of fun.

You were going to pull yourself out of his arms, forget about his lips, put on your clothes, and leave.

You made your decision.

You didn't pull away when Eris pulled the two of you to lie down.

You didn’t protest when he laid your head on his chest and wrapped an arm around you.

You didn’t stop him when he covered you with the blanket.

Your mind felt heavy — what had you been thinking about earlier?

You snuggled closer to him, placing one of your arms over his stomach and tangling your legs with his.

You kissed his chest, and he ran his hand briefly through your hair.

A vague sense of thought passed through your mind — you had made a decision, hadn’t you?

You couldn’t remember. 

-

The next morning, Eris woke up alone in his bedroom, now lit by the light of a new day.

He did not find your figure on the left side of the bed. Instead, he was surprised by a piece of parchment.

"I had to go, I have some business to attend to. Don't worry, prince, you will see me again."

Eris fell onto the bed with one hand hiding his face but not enough to hide his smile.

A warm and welcoming feeling filled his heart.

For the first time in all his centuries of life, Eris Vanserra was happy. 

So happy that he didn't notice that his burn had been cured.

- 

The Inner Circle was gathered in the living room with Amren back from her home. 

Rhys had shared the vision with everyone that the four of them had encountered in the cabin — or what was left of it. 

Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, and Nesta were still lost for words. Their minds couldn’t form thoughts — too busy trying to process everything they had seen in the cabin. 

The plants and flowers, the evidence of your power in the destroyed walls and soil, the soldiers, and… the dead flower that still danced. 

Every time they closed their eyes, that was the sight they were greeted with. 

Feyre sat on the arm of the chair with a hand pressed against her chest. “Y/N… the soldiers. Are you sure it was her?” 

When everyone remained silent, Azriel took over. “It was her. The soldiers had traces of her power. We don’t know where she went, but we believe she couldn’t have gone far.” 

"I couldn't find anything in Helion's books," Amren said, "what do we do now?" 

Several sighs were let out, and then "I think we should-" Azriel couldn't finish his thought due to the change in the air. 

As his family immediately took up defensive positions, he realized he wasn't the only one who felt it. 

Everyone's eyes found the source of the change — the door to the living room. 

It was early morning, the light illuminating the room completely, but somehow, darkness could be seen beyond the door. 

Everyone's hands began to find their weapons. 

It was impossible to break into the River House — Rhys had placed the wards himself. 

The darkness moved. 

Azriel didn’t wait for the threat to strike first. 

His centuries of training, experience, and combat kicked in. 

In an instant, faster than the blink of an eye, Truth-Teller was flying through the air, about to strike his target. 

Until a hand stopped it. 

The darkness began to dissolve, revealing you behind it. As you walked into the room, the knife was still immobilized in your hand. 

As surprise and shock grew on the faces of what you once recognized as your family, a smile grew on yours. 

Your eyes flickered through violet, blue, brown, and silver ones until they stopped on a pair of hazels. 

The Shadowsinger’s knees nearly gave out before you spoke. 

“Now, that’s no way to welcome a lady.” 

-

You walked around the room as you took in the decor.

The Inner Circle had moved to sit on the couch as they watched you.

"I like what you did with the new place. Fancy." You said as you ran a finger along the dining table.

As you walked to the couch, a smile still on your lips, you stopped to pour yourself a glass of whiskey before sitting down next to Nesta.

"Hello, friend." You said as you took a sip of the drink that burned your throat.

"Y/N."

When Nesta showed an intention to speak again, you quickly turned your gaze to the males who were sitting on the couch opposite yours.

"I heard you were looking for me. How cute." You said with what could be detected as false emotion.

"Where have you been?" Rhys asked you.

"Oh, you know. Here and there," your hand slid down your leg, stopping at your knee, "by the way. Beron made his alliance with Koschei and that human queen official yesterday." 

Amren gave you a scornful look, "And how do you know that?" 

A cheeky smile filled your face. You rested your arms on the back of the couch and crossed your legs as you replied, "I was with Eris yesterday." 

Seeing her roll her eyes, your smile widened before you met the eyes of the female who had become like a sister to you.

Nesta watched as you stared at her with blank eyes and no emotion on your face — pain struck her heart as she didn't recognize the person in front of her. 

"We saw the cabin." 

Azriel's voice broke your eye contact with the female and made you focus on him. 

"Oh, yeah? And what did you think?" 

Amren answered, "Monstrous." 

Your gaze met hers. “I was just protecting myself.”

“Were you?” she asked, “or were you trying to show off?” 

Your eyes turned red, and the room began to shake as you let your power surge to the surface.

Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel widened their eyes as the Archeron sisters tried to hide the fear that filled them. 

You stood up from the couch and walked towards the female without ever breaking eye contact or missing a step.

"Be careful, Amren," As you approached her, she began to retreat her steps. "If I were you, I would choose your next words wisely."

The ancient one's back touched the wall, and you noticed her breathing become faster. "You don't want to anger me." 

As you glanced one last time at Amren, you gave her a smile before heading for the door. 

Azriel was quick to stand up. “Where are you going?” 

Your feet stopped, and you glanced over your shoulder. “Leaving, obviously.” 

Just as you were about to resume walking, you were interrupted again. 

“No.” Rhys answered this time. 

This made you slowly turn in your place — it took all of Rhys’s strength not to flinch at the look in your eyes. 

Cassian, who was next to him, murmured, “Careful, Rhys. Don’t get on her nerves.” 

Rhys glanced at him sideways before swallowing the lump in his throat and letting out his High Lord voice. 

Although he didn’t show it, he was shaking inside, but he hoped this would work on you. 

"You're not going anywhere. Now that you're here, I want you under my supervision at all times. I forbid you to leave Velaris." 

Everyone held their breath as they waited for your reaction. 

They were all surprised when your answer was "Fine. Do I have a room here or will I have to sleep in the garden?" 

One by one, they sighed in relief before Rhys spoke again "Of course you have a room here." 

"I'll take you." Azriel walked forward before anyone could protest. 

After climbing the stairs, turning left, then right and another right, they reached the door to your room. 

Without hesitation, you opened the door and when you were about to close it, a hand stopped you. 

"Azriel, no. I have a headache and I just want to sleep." 

Azriel was surprised by your answer but now that you were in front of him, he didn't want to wait any longer. 

"There's something I want to tell you. About that night." 

"Honestly, I don't care." 

"I didn't go to meet Elain. I went looking for you," seeing the confusion on your face, he continued, "I went to the clinic that morning but I didn't find you-"

"I wasn't there."

"I know and-"

"Azriel." Cassian's voice trailed off, drawing your gazes to him.

"Come," when Azriel tried to protest, Cassian was firmer, "now."

"Thank the Cauldron." And with that, you slammed the door in his face. 

- 

After dinner, the members of the Inner Circle entered the living room where Amren was on the couch with an old book on her lap.

No one had commented on what had happened.

Not out of fear of Amren but out of fear of what it would mean to admit it out loud.

Feeling your power, the closeness they felt — they weren't ready for this conversation even though they knew they would have to have it sooner or later.

"What are you looking for?" Feyre asked the elder.

When the silver-eyed female didn't answer, the High Lady approached and read the contents of the book.

Her eyes widened "You're reading about Koschei?"

The others approached.

"Yes, what Y/N said earlier made me think."

Azriel sat down next to her "About an alliance with Beron and the queen?"

"Yes." Amren kept her eyes on the book.

Cassian took the seat across from her and rested his arms on his thighs. “Why?”

Amren sighed and closed the book, setting it down on the small coffee table.

“Think about it. Koschei has been on the lake for thousands of years, right?” When everyone had settled down, she continued, “So why act now? With all the centuries he had to free himself from the lake, why now?”

Not liking where the conversation seemed to be going, Rhys approached the table and picked up the book, turning it over in his hand. “What’s your theory?”

“I think he’s waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Nesta asked.

Amren stood and went to pour a glass of wine. “Not for what, but for who.” 

"Amren." The High Lady said. Everyone realized that this was not going to be a simple conversation. 

"He's a sorcerer and his powers weren't neutralized, we realized that when he cursed Vassa. So what other spells can he do?"

The General ran a hand through his hair before sighing "What are you trying to say?"

Amren looked at the High Lord who was already looking at her, with a nod, she indicated to open to page one hundred and forty seven.

Rhysand followed her indication but it was the only thing he could do because the content was in an ancient language — long lost.

"What does it say?"

Amren cleared her throat to answer and for the second time that day, the Inner Circle saw her get nervous.

"It's a spell to see the future."

"What?" Everyone asked in unison.

Elain spoke for the first time since all this began "I thought only seers could see the future."

Amren shook her head in denial. Rhysand looked at the her and like a snap of fingers, the situation became clear in his mind.

"You think he used this spell to see when would be the best time to act."

Amren nodded. She grabbed the book and flipped through the pages until she found the one she wanted.

"Koschei needs help to break the spell that is binding him to the lake. He needs someone powerful. Very powerful."

Her gaze met Azriel's. "I think Koschei used the spell and saw when that someone would appear and has been waiting ever since. He needs someone with a power that he can relate to. I think-"

"Y/N." Nesta murmured.

All eyes moved to her but Nesta only looked at Amren.

The ancient one didn't need to say anything to confirm Nesta's thought.

"Koschei is a Death God," her eyes remained focused on the silver ones. "Y/N is a necromancer. Her power involves death and we have all just witnessed how powerful she is." 

"No..." Azriel blurted out as Feyre covered her mouth with her hands. 

"Amren?" Feyre asked. 

The female simply nodded her head. 

"If Koschei saw the future, he saw what was going to happen to Y/N," Rhysand began, "he waited until her powers changed to act." 

Silence fell over the room. 

This was bigger than they had thought. They had all thought their only concern would be Beron, but little did they know how wrong they were. 

A second passed. 

Two seconds.

Three seconds. 

"Koschei was waiting for Y/N." 

Azriel was the first to move, followed by the others.

"Y/N!"

They all ran towards your room. 

"Y/N!" 

Their hearts were pounding as they got closer. 

"Y/N!" 

Just a few steps away, several prayers were sent to the Mother for you. 

"Y/N!" 

The door to your room was knocked down and the space was invaded by seven people. 

Your room was dark. 

Your bed was unmade and empty. 

And you were nowhere to be found. 

It was too late. 

- 

You were at the lake again. 

The lake surrounded by pine trees and illuminated by the moonlight. 

The lake that promised tranquility and safety. 

'Another nightmare' you thought to yourself. 

The figure appeared again reflected in the lake but this time in front of you. 

You followed its reflection until you found it hovering over the lake. 

Anyone else would have backed away, screamed or even run away. 

But you were not just anyone and whatever this was, it didn't scare you. 

You walked closer until your feet were greeted by the water. 

"Who are you?" 

The figure approached and beneath the cover of darkness you could make out the shape of a man.

"My name is Koschei. We finally meet, Y/N." 

Your face remained neutral, without a trace of shock or surprise. 

"How do you know my name?" 

A deep chuckle rang across the lake, making its water vibrate.

"I've been waiting for you."

It was only when the man shrouded in darkness placed a hand on your shoulder that you realized this wasn't a nightmare. 

- 

Pryhtian shook as a great flash invaded the sky, dyeing it red.

The houses shook.

People screamed.

Animals fled.

The cold increased.

But it was only when they looked back at the sky that they realized what had happened.

The clouds changed color.

The darkness that had been hiding behind them advanced.

The storm was here. 

A/n: Thank you for reading! There will be one or two more parts (I haven't decided yet) and I have a lot of ideas to finish it off in style!

[Masterlist]

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*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[shadowsingercassia]

Hiya, bb! 🫶

Vi here! Little fic request (no pressure ❤️)

So basically, it’s a Azriel x Y/N (because we all love Azzy, 🥰) Reader is Nesta’s friend and she asks if she can join the Valkyrie training and Nesta is like “ofc bb” but since they are so far in training, Nesta sets Reader up with Azriel for private training, and Az is like “ok”

But Nesta doesn’t inform our favourite bat-boy that Reader is actually really good at training and ends up kicking Azzy’s butt in their first lesson, and then Az becomes obsessed with her 😍

I’m not making much sense but I’d love to see if you could write it! If anyone can bring this story to life, it’s you 🥰

Love ya Xx ✨🤍

I absolutely love this request (always love my badass readers)!! 🤭❤️

Love you too, Vi!! Thank you for requesting this 💕

Also I'm really sorry for sometimes disappearing for a week or two 😭

So anywayssss

Training Gone... Right? | Azriel x reader

Summary: read message

Warnings: mentions of blood reader being a LITTLE violent while training with Azriel (its not too graphic dont worry!) 😌, cute little obsessed Azriel 😊💕 (also there is a curse word but ignore it) let me know if I missed anything!!

Words: 1.4k!

Little note: 3 povs, (Nesta, Azriel and reader) but mostly it's Az!

☆

Nesta:

Nesta looked up from her book as she saw you entering the library. A determined expression had found its way onto your face. She reached over for her bookmark, closing the book and placing it on the table beside her.

As you approached her, your steps firm and confident, she raised an eyebrow. You stopped in front of her, and your gaze met hers. She couldn't have helped it when her grey eyes softened.

"I want to learn how to fight," you state, your hands clasped behind your back. Nesta's face brike off into a smirk. Clearly, she had been waiting for you to ask her.

Knowing you, and your past, it was logical that you would want to learn how to fight, and honestly, she was eager to train you.

After that, you joined the Valkyries, training with them daily. Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie all taught you how to fight. The different techniques and fighting styles. Nesta observed you throwing a punch at Emerie, catching her off-guard. She knew you would be almost - if not - better than the rest of the Valkyries in no time. When you were determined, nothing would get in your way.

And Nesta had gotten another thought, late at night, as she read the new novel she borrowed from the library. She would set you up to train with Azriel.

Of course, you had seen Azriel once or twice while visiting Nesta in the House of Wind, but he doesn't know you were training with the Valkyries. Nesta had made sure of that.

The next day in training, she approached you as you ran through the stretches. Sunlight hit your skin, making it look golden. Taking her place close to you, she began stretching as well. "Do you remember Azriel?" She asked, turning her head slightly to look into your face.

She saw you pause for a moment before you answered her. "The shadowsinger, right?" You asked her back, furrowing your eyebrows. Nodding, she answered, "yes, the shadowsinger."

"Right, what about him?" You asked her, confused about why she would bring him up like that. Nesta rarely spoke of the shadowsinger with you. "I was wondering if you would be alright with inviting him to train with us tomorrow," she said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders.

"I wouldn't mind it, no," you said, still partially confused, but the anticipation of tomorrow gnawed at you. The door opened, Gwyn striding in, giving both you and Nesta a wave. Smiling, you wave back at her.

Reader (Y/n):

Training was surprisingly light today, and while it usually lasted longer, Nesta had retired early, then Gwyn, and lastly Emerie, leaving you alone. Not that you minded it, Nesta told you she was going to spend the afternoon with her mate, Gwyn saying Clotho needed her help in the library, and then Emerie deciding to spend the rest of the day doing her own things.

However, you wanted to train a bit more, as you always did. Perhaps that was why you had gotten so good, because you stayed about another few hours and practice what you learned that day.

As the sun slowly set behind the Illyrian mountains, the last rays disappearing beneath the horizon, you took a break. Sitting down, you roll back your shoulders, watching the sky shift from the golden hues to a dark blue. A sense of calm washed over you when the stars started appearing like bright flecks against the darkness.

You lost track of time, too deep into your thoughts to come out. Though eventually, you winnowed to your bedroom, taking a quick bath, and laying off to rest.

Azriel:

Strapping his siphons in place, he was about to go train you. Nesta had asked if he could train Y/n, and Azriel couldn't refuse.

As he winnowed to the roof of the House of Wind, he found you alone, getting ready for training. The leather trousers you wore were rolled up to your knees, letting the chill morning breeze kiss the exposed skin.

Azriel had been told by Nesta that you were a new Valkyrie. She just hadn't told him that you had started training with them more than a year ago. Nesta wasn't lying though, you were the newest member of the Valkyries (and the best one in sparring).

His gaze locked with yours, and you gave him a brief smile, which he returned, much to his surprise.

"Quick spar before the others get here?" You suggest, and Azriel nods. Wait, the others? Azriel had been told this was a private training... that's when he noticed one of his shadows, wrapped around your wrist. As his gaze locked there, your own eyes followed, looking at the shadow. You hadn't realized, he noticed as he watched your expression.

Dismissing it, he took his fighting stance, and you quickly did the same. Azriel took in your stance, eyebrows raising as he looked at your near-perfect stance. Maybe you knew a few things about sparring.

He quickly knew that 'a few things' was a lot. You threw punches, most of them hitting their marks on various parts of his body. Azriel could feel the sore spots, knowing they would bruise sooner or later. A groan slipped past his lips as your knee drove itself to his stomach. Stumbling back, he clutched his abdomen, sharp pain shooting through his body.

You didn't falter and that one moment was all it took before you landed a hook to his jaw. His face snapped sideways and he really tried to get himself together. Not even his shadows could predict you.

Suddenly, he was swept off his feet, his back hitting the training mat. The breath was knocked off his lungs and he gasped, struggling to draw air into his lungs. Every coherent thought left his mind but he managed to roll over and scramble to his feet before he could receive another blow.

You dodged most of his jabs, although a few found their targeted spots. Exhausted, that was what Azrisl was. Seemingly, you were exhausted as well, although less than him.

It didn't make sense. Azriel had been training for more than five hundred years and yet you, that have been training for cauldron knows how long, are beating him. He would be having a talk with Nesta after today.

His footwork started to falter slightly, and of course you would notice that too. Taking full advantage of his state, you manage to knock him off his feet again.

"I yield! Cauldron, I yield." He panted, his eyes closing momentarily. Once he opened his eyes again, he was met with the sight of you, hand extended to him.

Azriel froze. Before, he hadn't fully taken you in, but now, you were right in from of him, and Cauldron, you looked ethereal. He had competely forgotten his bleeding nose and the bruises that had started to bloom on his skin as he stared at you.

A thin layer of sweat coated your body, your training leathers clinging to you like a second skin. Strands had fallen free from the simple hairstyle you wore, sticking to your forehead, and falling into your eyes and you pushed them back. His gaze flickered to your parted lips, almost unconsciously, as you drew in heavy breaths. Quickly, he averted his gaze, not wanting to be caught at you, and especially not wanting to be caught staring at your lips.

Realizing he had been dozing off for too long, he grasped your hand in his. Planting his feet onto the ground, you helped pull him up. Finally standing back on his feet, his thoughts replayed Nesta's words. She's the newest Valkyrie. Mhm, he's noticed that, he thought, slightly annoyed at Nesta. Who could have thought the newest Valkyrie would be that good?

Even Nesta couldn't beat him, neither Gwyn or Emerie, and yet this woman had handed his ass to him today.

And he found himself stunned.

And perhaps a little obsessed... but he wouldn't admit that to himself.

Nobody came and as you and Azriel waited, he finally spoke. "Do you think the others will come?"

"No," you reply. After a beat of silence, you speak again. "I'll go find Nesta," you say as you walk towards the door.

"You're a worthy opponent, shadowsinger." The door closed behind you and Azriel was at a loss of words, a flush tinging his cheeks. Get it together, Az, he thought, but the image of you refused to leave his mind.

Obsessed indeed.

-------------------------☆-------------------------

a/n: I had so much fun writing this, I was giggling the whole time! Again thank you so much @anarchiii for this request! I hope you like it, because I adjusted it slightly 💓

general taglist: @blessthepizzaman @amara-moonlight @homeslices @flourishandblotts-inc @anarchiii

comment '💕' to be added to my general taglist!

Love, Cassia ❤️

[thisblogisaboutabook]

The cycle of life

Azriel x Reader

Fae cycles suck, thank the mother for your attentive mate who is there to provide you with all of the smut and fluff you desire.

warnings: smut, language, self-esteem and body image struggles, anxiety, slight breeding kink

She didn’t know when the self-loathing crept in - although it was always the first sign. The week had been busy, she’d poured herself into her work. Being a bookkeeper for such a wealthy court was… tiring to say the least. It was fulfilling work, especially when it came to the Court of Dreams. Balancing ledgers and creating budgets for various charitable endeavors was a duty she was proud to take part in. The High Lord and Lady’s efforts in keeping their court thriving was admirable. Most would find the work mundane, and she supposed it could be, but accounting always felt like a puzzle to her - using her brain to solve problems and contribute to the advancement of the Night Court was rewarding.

She wasn’t perfect though, despite that desperate desire within herself to be. She’d push, and push, and push herself completely overlooking all the good she did and absolutely berating herself internally when the occasional mistake occurred.

Azriel was her number one supporter. She’d always imagined him to be better suited for the likes of a fellow warrior such as Mor or a Valkyrie like Gwyn. Perhaps even someone soft and lovely like Elain, a glowing beacon to come home to. Y/N had told Azriel as much when he began pursuing her.

“Why me?” She’d wonder to herself as she assessed her figure in the mirror - overlooking the enticing feminine curves that all but screamed “squeeze me, grip me, take me”, the way her plush lips bowed into a perfectly kissable pout, how her radiant skin that nearly glowed rendered her ethereal. She only saw imperfections. Not to mention that she wasn’t graceful or stealthy, she couldn’t cook or keep plants alive to save her damned life, and she had a tendency to get stuck inside her mind.

Truthfully this week was more than busy, it was hard. She’d pushed herself to meet deadlines that she’d gotten behind on due to an influx in workload. She’d made a few mistakes that nobody had issue with - except herself. Nuala and Cerridwen were taking well-deserved time off, leaving the essential household tasks on the back burner. Between working endless hours, Azriel being gone on a mission, and a flare up of the anxiety that she’d put so much effort into working through over the years - she was exhausted.

Physically her muscles ached, stomach cramped, and her head pounded as the all-too-familiar symptoms of her impending semi-annual cycle took root. Her mind and spirit were utterly fatigued from the busy week, the flare up of anxiety, and the overall stress of life. She was desperate for Azriel to return from his mission soon.

It was around 9PM when she coerced herself into wrapping up work on Friday night, she spent three hours afterward tending to the house and catching up on neglected tasks from the week, too tired to even bathe as she crawled into bed - sleep claiming her immediately.

She awoke the next day to a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hello beautiful.” Azriel whispered against her skin, pulling back to allow those intense hazel eyes a chance to examine her. Her eyelids fluttered and brows furrowed as she let out an exhausted groan, “baby…” a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she reached toward him in a needy manner that made his heart ache. He hated leaving her for missions though she always understood and supported him. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around her body, letting his warmth seep into her bones as she melted into his embrace.

Azriel noticed the flinch she made as the sun shone through the window into their room, quickly flaring his wings to block it from view until her eyes adjusted. “What’s wrong, love?” He whispered, though he already had an idea. The heat of his breath against her ear sent chills through her, prompting her to give a quick nip to his neck before kissing it.

Gods, she’d missed him.

“Nothing baby.” before he could call her on her lie she continued, “what time is it?”

“Well, you missed breakfast.” He smirked.

“Ugh… how did I sleep in so late?” She sat up, rubbing her tired eyes.

Azriel shrugged “Your body must have needed it.”

“Says you.” She scoffed. “You were off all week doing physically demanding work and busting your ass for this court… while I sat on mine balancing ledgers.”

“Y/N…” he spoke, his low voice barely more than a warning growl. “We’re not going to do that. You are allowed to feel tired, allowed to let your body rest. Your work is important.”

She sighed, knowing better than to press on. She knew to pick her battles and that this one was not one she would win.

“Fine.” Y/N shrugged, eyeing a paper bag on the bedside table. “What did you bring me? Please tell me it’s something with chocolate.”

Azriel’s lips curled up into a grin that she’d never tire of seeing, handing over the bag. “See for yourself, darling.”

———

Azriel knew from the moment he stepped into the quiet house that she’d need extra love and attention today. His loving, caring, selfless mate who typically rose early - he swore the sun rose on her accord and not the other way around - was still sound asleep in bed.

He immediately exited the house before she could sense his presence and stopped by her favorite bakery along the Sidra. Chocolate croissants were a necessity in times like these. She’d need a pain relieving tonic, epsom salts and soothing oils, and a bouquet of flowers couldn’t hurt either.

He went ahead and picked up ingredients for a few quick meals and a new book she’d mentioned recently as well.

He had to laugh at the irony. His mate often questioned her worthiness of him. HIM. She couldn’t see what he saw. A passionate, intelligent female who cared for her mate, her court, and family more than anything. Always putting her own needs last but the first to volunteer when help was needed. The cauldron truly found his equal - someone who gave and gave but it was never enough. Someone who couldn’t see her own worth, her pure heart, her devastating beauty - while the rest of the world marveled at it.

She’d been the catalyst in his own self-acceptance. He’d spent centuries believing he wasn’t enough, that he was unworthy of a mate, of his position, of the power he was born with - just to meet this intelligent, radiant being who could bring an entire room to a halt and assume they were only seeing flaws. Not the beauty that could make even kings fall to their knees if she’d only ask. When the bond snapped, he decided then and there that he would show her just how worthy she was. In the decade they’d been mated, she finally started to see her worth, how precious she was to him, to those she graced with her presence. But life is complicated and triggers are inevitable, especially when it came to the flare of hormones that accompanied an impending cycle.

—————

The chocolate croissants were a win if the drawn-out contented sigh Y/N let out upon finishing her third one was any indication. He’d shared details of his mission as she indulged in the pastries and she gave him a few details of her week - frowning as she went into detail about the “mistakes” she’d made.

They were common mistakes that anyone would make, truthfully, some weren’t even her fault, but he listened as she let it out. He’d learned over the years that sometimes she just needed to get it off her chest and not advice. Simply hearing each other out had become a key element in the foundation of their relationship - when thoughts became too much - they were always listening ears for each other.

Once she’d gotten it off her chest she changed the subject by asking, “What do you want to do today?”

Azriel had a lot to do - but his mate took priority this weekend. He gave her a wicked grin, “I want nothing more than to waste away in this bed with you all day.”

“But?” She replied.

“But nothing.” He flicked her nose. “I want to spend the day in bed with my mate - is there something wrong with that?”

Azriel could see the war in her mind. Debating whether she deserved to take a day off, or should tend to other tasks. Before she could object he leaned in, lips capturing hers in a deep, loving kiss. She immediately opened for him, his tongue lazily tangling with hers. “Fine” she murmured.

“That’s my girl.” He cooed before returning to claiming her mouth, the shell of her ears, her neck.

“Mmm” she purred into his kiss while he palmed at her breast through her silken cobalt night gown. Her swollen breasts immediately peaking beneath his touch.

“So responsive” his low voice growled into her neck, sending fire straight through her, igniting her core. “Is that beautiful pussy as ready for me as these are?” He asked, tweaking a nipple through her gown.

The responding moan told him more than enough as he hitched the hem of her nightgown up to her waist, exposing the dripping cunt practically begging for him underneath. His eyes rolled back at the intoxicating scent of arousal drifting up into his nose. “Holy shit, Y/N.” he groaned, clearly pleased with the sight.

He ran a finger through her slick core, adding a teasingly light amount of pressure to her clit but before he could insert a finger she moaned “No Az, I can’t wait. Please.”

“You don’t want my fingers?” He teased, slipping one inside of her. Mother, she was absolutely soaked.

“Az…Fuck. No. Please.” She pleaded. Reaching down to palm the hardened length beneath his sweatpants. “I need that inside of me. Now”

Typically he would reprimand her for being so demanding, robbing him of his playtime with her sweet, dripping sex. But the desperation in her voice left him desperate to oblige her.

“Since you asked nicely.” He replied, to which she frantically helped him out of his pants.

Before she could reconsider taking more fingers, he thrusted his length into her. Hard. Every thick, aching inch of him, stretching and filling her completely.

“Like that?” He asked as her moans filled the room.

“Yes. Yes, Az.”

“Fuck.” She cried out. “Just. Like. That.” Each word coming out individually timed to the thrusts of his cock.

There was no way he was going to last long at this pace, especially after being away for a week. “Not gonna last long like this. Fuck!” He ground out.

She grit her teeth as his thrusts became harder, more erratic. “Then fill me, Az. Need your cum.”

Slipping a hand between them, he pressed his thumb to her clit, moving it in that perfected motion he’d finessed over the years as he diligently studied her body, a scholar whose sole discipline laid in pleasuring his mate. Locking his eyes with her, he gently commanded “Cum with me baby.”

With that they both let go. Their releases filling the room like a song. A melody Azriel would never tire of, one he replayed in his mind somehow far too often, yet never enough during his time away.

Azriel stayed inside of her until their breaths settled, evening out into sync with eachother. He reveled in the warmth of her. His perfect mate - physically, emotionally, spiritually. He’d never take this for granted.

Finally he pulled out of her in one long sweep, she looked down to admire the still considerable length of him even when partially softened. Her stomach dropped to see blood mixed in with their combined releases.

“Az, oh, I’m so s-” She started but he cut her off.

“Baby. It’s just a little blood.”

She almost looked ashamed. “I know but- I’m embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” He puzzled. “It’s completely natural. Do you really think blood bothers me? Come on now beautiful, we’ve had sex during your cycle before. Why shy away now?”

“I just didn’t expect the bleeding to have started already. It explains why I’ve felt so lethargic, I suppose.”

Azriel went to get a warm cloth from the adjoined washroom, returning to wipe her. Her cheeks flushed at the intimate action.

“Stop overthinking it. Besides, we’re mates.” He smiled, a soft look overtaking his eyes. “If you still want to have children with me someday, your cycle is kind of an essential step of the process.”

Y/N flushed at the comment. The thought of carrying his babies was something she’d dreamed about for years now. Thank the gods for her distant Illyrian ancestry and the genes that blessed her with curvy hips capable of birthing winged babes.

“You know, with my cycle returning… we could always start trying? If we stopped taking our tonics now - it should be out of our system in time for ovulation. Rhys has offered recently to let me bring on an assistant book keeper, which would be excellent timing.”

Azriel’s heart fluttered at the thought of it. His mate round and glowing as she carried their baby, a babe that would know so much more love than he ever had as a child. Something so pure and beautiful that could come from the love between he and his mate. They’d talked about it for years now, a dream of theirs. He had to quickly blink away the silver lining his eyes at the gift she was offering him, his selfless mate in all her infinite love. There was no way he could verbally reply in the moment without choking up so he sent waves of adoration, joy, and gratitude down the bond.

She sent every bit of love right back to him, propping up on her elbows to capture his lips in a promising kiss.

———-

After they came to a decision, Azriel carried Y/N to the bathing room where a hot bath full of the oils and epsom salts he’d picked up that morning were waiting. She nearly cried at the relief of the welcoming heat that greeted her.

Before she could object, Azriel quickly stepped out to change the sheets, promptly returning to slide into the bath tub behind her. He washed her hair, massaging her scalp to which she nearly purred like a cat. He carefully washed her entire body massaging her back, thighs, calves, shoulders, and breasts in the process. By the time he was done tending to her, she’d nearly fallen asleep.

Ever the caretaker, she tried to wash him in return but he insisted that this was about her - passing her a rolled up towel to place behind her neck while she relaxed, letting the oils from the bath soak into her skin as he lathered himself. He got out first, toweling himself off before lifting her out of the tub and drying her off with a heated towel.

Though she insisted she could do it herself, Azriel wasn’t having it. This was his day to care for his mate so he helped her into cloth lined linens and selfishly left her topless, slipping her underneath the fresh blankets.

He assured her he’d be right back slipping out to the kitchen to heat up her favorite gnocchi soup and fetch a tray he’d prepared with her pain relieving tonic, bouquet of flowers, and more chocolate.

It didn’t take much to bring his mate joy - the genuine gratitude she’d send down the bond at even the smallest gestures was never lost on him. Perhaps it was self-serving but he couldn’t resist surprising her, coveting each warm smile she’d give him as if he’d never feel warmth again.

He prayed their future babes had her smile, her eyes, any of her features, truly. But most of all, her heart - maybe then, beating within the most precious gift the mother could offer them, she’d finally see just how beautiful she really was.

————

He had to beg and plead like a mad male but finally she agreed to spend the entire weekend in bed with him. Who knew that he, the one who was typically the workaholic, would be the one to grovel at his mates feet begging her to take a break.

Fortunately, she was not immune to his charms and obliged him. At one point, she snuck out of bed in an attempt to accomplish a few tasks around the house before her cramps humbled her. Azriel was promptly startled awake from the nap he’d drifted off to as she loudly exclaimed from down the hall, “Fuck it. Back to bed.”

They spent the rest of the weekend making love, whispering of their dreams for the future, indulging in sweets, and reveling in each others touch with no shortage of laughter and kissing in between.

——————————

A/n: So I’ve totally been under the weather this weekend with no motivation to write but as I laid in bed with my own partner tending to me with whatever I needed, I couldn’t resist writing this. I intended it to be a Drabble but the words just kept flowing. I stan fluffy Az. Anyway, thanks for reading!

For those of you waiting on new parts to my current fics - I promise they’re coming along and will be out soon! xo ♥️

[moonlightazriel]

When no one hears your calls /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: When the unbearable feelings of her mate start to mess with her life, Y/N decides to put an ending to their misery.

Warnings: Torture and abuse, Beron being the bastard he is.

Word Count: 3K

Notes: Yeah, i missed writing for my baby Eris. And I'm warning in advance that reader is Azriel's sister and he's mated to Gwyn in this, so please, if you don't stan Gwynriel, scroll past it.

Main Masterlist

She weeped, the feelings flooding her chest too overwhelming to keep controlled. It started with small waves of anxiety, increasing to pure agony, pain erupted through her chest. She tried to keep the tears from spilling, but now she sobbed, broken pleas for it to stop leaving from her parted chapped lips. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, let me make it stop.” Azriel begged his sister. Holding her broken frame in between his arms.

“It hurts so much Az, it’s not fair.” She managed to speak in between the sobs that got more hysterical. The shadowsinger just held her tighter, seeing her in such distress broke him, she has always been his greatest weakness. 

“Here, take this.” Gwyn offered, her warm hands holding a mug towards the female. “It will help you sleep.” Azriel nodded to his mate, taking the mug from his hands and bringing it to his sister’s lips. He forced the content down her throat, watching as the tea slowly worked, her body relaxed and the tears stopped and she fell asleep against him.

“Thank you.” He said, and Gwyn squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring grip. Azriel grabbed Y/N, taking her to the guest bedroom that Gwyn had set for her, placing her sleeping form carefully on the bed. The red headed female grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the living room again.

“I don’t understand.” He breathed. “She has had these episodes since the High Lord’s meeting, it doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Maybe she’s sick?” Gwyn suggested and Azriel shrugged. 

“I took her to Madja, and she’s been as healthy as ever. There’s nothing wrong with her besides that.” He looked towards the room, to the shadows guarding his sister as she finally rested. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll find a solution Az, I know that.” Gwyn smiled at him, and he pulled the female for a hug. 

“I pray to the Mother that you’re right.” She kissed his temple and he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her love soothe his heart. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Whenever an episode approached, it always had small signs indicating it, the uncomfortable feeling in her chest, the rapid breathing and the dizziness like someone hit her in the head with full strength.

She hated that she worried her family so much, but not every time she was able to control how her body would react to it. It angered her how they would look at her with such pained expressions, how much Azriel wanted to help and she didn’t even knew how to ask for his help. 

So everyday, Gwyn would take her to the library and she would search the cause of her troubles, her nose glued to the pages for hours until her vision was blurry and her head was pounding. She never felt such agony, only when her half brothers and her father ripped her wings from her back, making a small cut and pulling it until the skin gave up and she blacked out due to the blood loss. 

It was Azriel shadows who helped them, sneaking supplies to their cell until they could get rid of the infection that almost killed her and healed his hands. She was glad for them and her brother, they saved her. She always tried to be as less of a burden as possible to not worry Azriel, but now she knew he was distressed about her situation, so she wanted to fix it, for her and for him. 

Shadows gathered in a corner caught her attention, she got up, despite not being able to hear them, they always tended to her and her needs. As she approached the shelf, the shadows disappeared, leaving only a copy of an old dusty book behind. She pulled the book out, blowing the dust off, sneezing a bit in the process. Allergic just like Cassian. 

She plopped herself in her seat again, scanning the book cover, no name, no nothing, this sparked her curiosity. She opened the book, in a fancy handwriter she could read “MATING BONDS: The complete guide for the matters of the heart.” She smiled at the title. 

Just like her brother, she was sometimes too shy to ask about things. Besides having her past lovers, mating bonds are something she was never that curious about. So she sat there, reading the whole thing with attention. If the shadows thought this book would help, she was sure it would. 

“Sometimes, strong feelings can leak through a one sided bond. And the other mate can feel it just as clearly as they would if the bond was shared by both mates.” That passage stuck with her, and she organised the books back on the shelf as she saw Gwyn approaching. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

“How do we know if the bond snapped or not?” She blurted at the dinner table, the eyes of the inner circle turning to her.

“Well, it’s different for everyone and you would mostly just know.” Rhys said, looking at the female, the three Illyrians treated her like they were her brothers as well. So, the three have been looking for ways to help their little sister to get rid of those episodes. 

“What if the bond had snapped for me and I just didn’t know it was it?” She inquired again and Azriel turned to his sister, his shadows stopping to look at her curiously. 

“Do you think you found your mate?” He asked, eyebrow raised, who she thought she was mated to?

“I found this book that said that feelings can leak through the bond.” The couples nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s very common.” Feyre replied.

“That’s the only explanation for what’s happening to me.” They all stopped for a second. “These emotions are not mine, but they’re strong enough for me to feel it.” Suddenly it all made sense.

“I pity your mate then.” Nesta said with sincerity, whoever it was, was going through great pain for her to feel it so intensely. 

“Me too.” Feyre agreed. “But as for the bond, you can feel like a tug in your soul, like no one else matters to you anymore besides that person.” The High Lady concluded. 

“Do you think you ever felt like this?” Elain asked and the female nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.” 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

She couldn’t sleep, her mind filled with too many memories to rest. But one in particular caught her attention, and she closed her eyes, focusing on that memory until she could see it clearly.

“I didn’t know the Night Court had such beauties by their side.” His voice purred, and she turned around to see the well dressed autumn male. He had a smirk adorning his lips, his hair slicked back, leaving a clear view of his face.

“The autumn males aren’t that bad either.” She sheepishly replied, eyes glued to his amber eyes. Eris Vanserra was a dangerous male, as her family had alerted her, but what a beautiful disaster he was. Stealing her breath away and making her lose all of her focus.

“If you ever give me the pleasure of your company, I'll show you how bad we can be.” He winked at her, leaving her standing still in the hallway. It was Nesta who found her, looking at nothing, frozen in place as her chest sparkled with life, like she was taking her first breath of fresh air after getting out of her father’s dungeon. As she was finally free. 

She kicked the covers away from her body, not caring about her clothing as she winnowed away. It was him, he was what was troubling her so much. She just needed to ask him to stop whatever this was and she would go back to normal. The shadows covered her as she sneaked through the Autumn Manor. 

Everything was pitch black, and she just followed the shadows, taking her to the only illuminated room. She pushed the door open, spotting Eris by the bed, looking in a small mirror as he stitched a very ugly wound in his chest. His eye was purple and his lips were bruised. 

“Who did this to you?” She breathed, her hands shaking in anger, how could someone do it to another being? She saw how cruel people could be and she dedicated her time to protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked startled, dropping the mirror from his hands and wincing in pain. Surprised to see her there, and even more curious to know why she was there.

“I came here to talk to you.” She walked closer to her. “Here, let me help you.” Eris raised an eyebrow towards her, what was happening? She picked the needle from his hands, her warm skin brushing against his, it was a nice feeling. He didn’t say anything as her soft touch rested against his heart, while her other hand worked on closing the wound.

She finished the stitches, reaching for the bowl of water, taking the cloth and with one hand she lifted his chin, eyes locked together for a second. She started to work on the dried blood that smeared across his lips and nose. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch and letting her take care of him. 

“What do you want to talk about that was so important that you invaded my room in the middle of the night?” He watched as she got away from him, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of his room. She pulled her legs close to her chest. 

“I wanted you to stop.” He leaned forward.

“Stop what exactly?” She took a deep breath.

“With your overwhelming feelings, it’s been a fucking trouble to me. But you’re clearly going through something, so if you ever need me, don’t hesitate to reach out.” Eris sneered.

“Why would I ever seek your help?” He watched as she got up, her expression serious as she held the doorknob. 

“Because who’s better to help you than your own mate?” And with that she left. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Mate. 

Mate.

Mate.

She was his mate. Her words got caught in his mind, she had no reason to lie to him. But he also had no reasons to believe her, he just did. He chose to believe that the female who came to him in the middle of the night and showed him more kindness than his own flesh and blood was telling the truth.

So when another round of torture was over, he winnowed to her house, he had memorized the address she had sent to him. He could barely hold himself together, so he almost collapsed on top of her as she opened the door. She looked like she had been crying as he managed to take a look at her face, and he wondered if it was his emotions that led to that.

“I didn’t know where else to come, and I didn't want to be alone.” She didn’t laugh nor mocked him, she just nodded and left the room. He could hear her, moving around in a hidden room, he wondered if she regretted offering him shelter. 

All the doubts died down in his throat when she came back, leaning to help him stand, guiding the way towards a bathroom. She sat him in her toilet and helped him out of his clothes. He sank in the water, trying to ignore the fact that he had to be naked in front of her, she looked like she was trying her best to ignore it as well.

“I put some numbing herbs, to help with the pain.” He nodded, feeling very thankful for her kindness. “And I have some of Azriel’s clothes here if you don’t mind. Yours are very dirty and could infect your wounds.”

“I would like that, thank you.” She nodded, getting out of the room and only appearing again to drop the clothes. Eris sighed, feeling his body relax and his wounds starting to close. As the water got cold, he got out. He felt weird wearing the Shadowsinger’s clothes but nothing about this situation was usual for him. 

“I figured you’re probably hungry.” She placed a plate in front of him, no one had ever taken that much care of him before. “I didn’t cook it, Feyre told me it's a way of accepting the bond.” She smiled and he could swear that all the pain and sadness was lifted from his chest with that bright smile directed to him. 

“Yeah, we don’t want you accepting this bond by accident.” Why would she want to accept a life tied to him?

“Yeah, we have to get to know each other first.” She giggled, taking a bite of her own food. “You don’t even know my favourite colour!” Eris laughed, feeling the sound reverberate through his chest, how long it was since he truly laughed with someone? 

“Do you plan on accepting?” He asked, testing the waters.

“To be honest, I think about it, but as I said. First we get to know each other, we think about the bond later.” Eris nodded. 

“Does your family know?” He dared to ask, assuming that they didn’t, or else Azriel would have already threatened him. 

“They do!” He looked at her in shock. “They weren’t happy at first, but they respect my choice.” 

“Did you tell them?” He gestured towards himself and her smile faded.

“Your secret is safe with me, it’s not my story to tell.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Thank you, for everything.” She smiled again.

“Nothing to thank me for.” He grabbed her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb.

“I have everything to thank you for, you just don’t know it.” They finished the meal and she got up to do the dishes, he quickly pushed her away. “It’s the least I can do.” She nodded.

“I’ll get the guest room ready for you then.” That night Eris slept like he hadn't slept in ages, soaking in the comfort of her home and her affection. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Her fingers started to shake, and that wave of anxiety came, as overwhelming as ever, it has been a whole month that she didn’t feel it, but Eris still came up to her beaten every week, she knew he was holding back his pain for her. But today, it was just as unbearable as it was when he didn’t know about it.

She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists under the table. The dinner went nicely, everyone engaged in conversations and smiling. She couldn’t ruin it, not again. But it was too late, as tears started to stream down her face.

“Are you okay?” Gwyn asked. Concern lacing her delicate features. Y/N shook her head, a scream ripping past her lips and scaring the whole family, Azriel was by her side in a second, tending to her. 

“What’s wrong?” It wasn’t pain that filled her veins tonight, it was anger. The house shook with her power. She screamed in rage, if she didn’t act now, he was going to get killed. She grabbed the truth teller away from her brother.

“This ends tonight.” She announced before she winnowed away. The pain guided her, towards mouldy walls and putrid floors, the smell of blood making the air rancid. 

He groaned, the pointy blade opening his flesh as it was dragged across his skin. He tried to hold back his pain but it was too much tonight, the ash in the weapon making everything more painful. He tried to hang on for her, for the life he wanted to have with her, for everything they haven’t lived yet. But it was too painful to keep going. 

The cell door was forced open, with unruly hair, wet and red cheeks, holding a blade in her hands, his guardian angel came. The blade being pushed into Beron’s neck, blood splattering against her face. She pushed the blade to the side, Beron’s head being detached from his neck, his lifeless body collapsing to the floor. 

“Hey! Open your eyes.” She demanded, kneeling in front of him, cradling his face in between her hands, and in that moment, the bond in his chest sang with life, welcoming her unmistakable love for him. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

The first thing he saw was the black curtains of her guest room. And the looming presence of the Shadowsinger himself, watching him intently. His body didn’t hurt anymore, all that was left was the warming feeling of the bond alongside his soul. 

“Where is she?” He asked, sitting straight up in bed, his muscles felt tingly from being in the same position for long.

“She’s out in town, getting some things.” Azriel sat in the chair facing the bed. “How are you feeling, Eris?” True concern filled his voice.

“I’m fine, she saved me.” He could never forget this.

“Use this gift she gave you to make her the happiest female alive.” Azriel said, and Eris knew this was the closest of his blessing he would ever get. “Keep her safe.”

“With my life.” The male promised. A door opened somewhere and her soothing voice filled the room.

“I’m home!” She announced, and it took her a few minutes to go to his room, pushing the door open, she watched him. Blinking the tears before rushing to him, jumping on top of him. He held her, and he felt  her lips pressed on his. His heart beated faster, as he retributed her kiss.

“Hey, stop that, that’s gross.” Azriel groaned, and she parted their kiss, laughing to her brother from Eris’s lap.

“You’re no fun.” She complained, showing him his middle finger. He rolled his eyes and left the room. “What do we do now?” She asked, but Eris didn’t want to think about the chaos that awaited for him at home, so he looked her in the eyes, sending all the love he could down the bond and asked.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

[danikamariewrites]

hii!! I was wondering if u could write a fic with azriel and one of the spies he trains, kind of like arobynn and aelin but not creepy lol. azriel always protects reader yet when rhys notices the special treatment in his court, he grows distant. angst ensues!! possibly smut whatever youre feeling!

My Sweet Spy

Azriel x reader

Notes: I hope you don’t mind that it’s in bullet form anon! I can’t believe I haven’t thought of something like this before, I did change it a little and made them fall in love (so not rlly a master and apprentice thing) I also don’t know the word count for this but know it’s a lot.

Warnings: angst, enemies to friends to lovers, fighting and violence, blood (apologies for any typos I sped through editing this)

Your father was one of Azriel’s senior spies. At 100 years old you were still acting like a petulant child, driving your father mad. Being at his wits end he dropped you off in Velaris for training with Azriel. It was more of a punishment than anything

He wanted the high lord and spymaster to set you straight

During one of your father’s more high profile missions he was attacked and didn’t survive

His death made you resent Azriel for a long time

You didn’t come to training on time or at all some days, you wouldn’t speak for almost a year, and you acted out so bad (during Nesta’s stint at the bars as well) you and Nesta were separated and it was time for an intervention

While Nesta stayed at the House of Wind you stayed in the Town House

You still refused to speak with anyone, especially Azriel, but you pulled yourself together

Though your father was a hard-ass you loved him dearly. He was the only person you had left in the world

Realizing you couldn’t blame Azriel or Rhysand for his death you started putting in the effort of training and being a better person. If anything you were really at training for Nesta. You missed your friend and she was the only person you would talk to. Meeting Gwyn and Emerie at training made you light up. You hadn’t had many friends as an adult so this group of girls excited you.

You still wouldn’t speak to Azriel. At least not in depth. You would acknowledge him, giving him nods and the occasional yes and no. Azriel tried so hard to get you to open up. He apologized about your father’s death and even went as far as buying you a box of your favorite pastries, but nothing.

Months after Nyx was born and Nesta, Gwyn, & Emerie won the Blood Rite you were starting to warm up to everyone. You even spoke to Azriel, “Thank you.” Azriel was taken aback by how quietly you approached him, even his shadows were unaware of you. “You’re welcome.” He didn’t ask for what. Azriel had a feeling that those two words encompassed everything from putting up with you to housing and training you.

You started going to family dinners and get togethers more. While you still didn’t talk much you were showing more emotion.

You were on time for training and showed improvement. To Azriel’s surprise you were more skilled than he thought. When he reported your progress to Rhys he seemed to take interest in your skills. “Maybe her father taught her more tricks of the trade than we thought.” Azriel didn’t like what Rhys’s tone was suggesting.

Azriel tensed, waiting for the order he knew was coming. Rhys gave his brother a look he knew all too well. Then the dreaded words left his mouth, “I want you to build her up. Y/n’s father was a valuable asset, we need that again.” Azriel clenched his jaw. Doing his best to bite his tongue to think about his words.

The Spymaster knew this was an order from his High Lord, not a suggestion from his brother.

So Azriel began your training. You became more observant, an extension of Azriel’s shadows. His own shadows took a liking to you. Becoming their second master on missions, they protected you.

The only missions Azriel would take you on would be a year after your training started. And they would never be solo trips. You would go with him or another partner on short missions. You were never far from Velaris and if need be Azriel could come get you if you were in danger.

There was definitely a few tense nights where you two spent the night at an inn. You two never knew how to approach each other, never wanting to say the wrong thing to one another.

Your first solo mission was given to you by Rhys. The High Lord went over his brother’s head assigning you this. “I believe you are ready to do this y/n. You have shown change and a tenacity I haven’t seen since Feyre under the mountain.”

The high praise from Rhys made your heart soar. The fact that your change was noticed made you feel like life was going well. That there was a place for you.

“Thank you, Rhysand.” You bow your head slightly. “Azriel has trained you well, and you’ve done excellent work over the last few months.” Rhys slides a file across his desk to you. Opening it he informs you that you’ll be traveling to just outside Vallahan. A male who was once on Kier’s council defected and has been on the run for years. He has crimes to answer for and you will be delivering the High Lord’s justice.

When you didn’t show up to training Azriel went looking for you. Not being able to find you in the House he went to Rhys. “I sent her on a mission to the continent. Caliban was sighted and I thought she was the perfect person to handle it.”

Steam was coming out of Azriel’s ears. “How. Dare. You,” he gritted out. Rhys’s eyes widen at the change in his brother’s mood. Azriel was borderline erratic. “How dare you make that call!” Rhys held up a hand. “Brother, please. Calm down and think—” “Don’t tell me to cam down! Y/n has never been to the Continent! And she is far from ready to do something like this on her own!”

“Az just listen—” Azriel closed his eyes, taking deep breathes. “Where?” Rhys gave him a questioning look. “Where on the Continent id you fucking send her?” His voice was growing angrier with each word. Once Rhys told him he punched his brother square in the face and stormed out of the house.

Your father didn’t make many enemies but he had one that eluded him for years, Caliban. Once considered royalty in the Hewn City he became a fugitive of the Night Court. Now you were his target. Somehow he found out that he is your mission in Vallahan. Instead of running again he decided to face you.

Caliban made it easy for you to track him. To the point where you knew it was a trap

“You look just like your father,” was the first thing he said to you. “I suppose you’ll be just as easy to kill.” All rational thoughts left your head. You saw red as you charged at him. Azriel had taught you to used controlled emotion through your fighting technique, helping you unlearn your irrational behavior.

Diving at Caliban he swiftly side stepped you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Still a petulant child I see.” You let out growl from deep in your throat. Jumping to your feet you unsheathed the dagger from your thigh. Caliban drew his own from thin air, ready to fight.

You slashed hard, chasing every step he took with a more aggressive one of your own. If Caliban was going to kill you, you were going to make it hard for him.

If you were going to die tonight you were taking this vile murderer with you.

Letting your rage take hold your moves become erratic. Distracted. Caliban lands a blow to your gut forcing you to double over. He grabs a fist full of your hair, clutching it as tight as possible he punched your face over and over again. Once your face was drenched in blood Caliban dropped you to the ground.

You were breathing heavily through your mouth trying to regain your strength. To get back up and fight again.

Caliban circles you, sneering down at you. “Poor little spy. Going to die all alone just like her father.” He lets out a deep laugh. A burst of anger rushed through you. Holding on tight to your dagger you quickly sit up and slash at Caliban’s inner thigh.

He howls in pain and drops to the ground next to you. “You bitch!” He spits at you. You laugh, collapsing on your back.

As the edges of your vision blur all you can think about is your friends. Specifically Azriel. He has been a constant, steady presence over the last few years.

All you could think about was how ungrateful you’d been to him. All the attitude you gave him that you never apologized for. All the things you didn’t let go of and had blamed him for, like your new shitty life and your father’s death.

But your life wasn’t shitty. It was good and you had a purpose.

Your father’s murderer was going to get up and you weren’t going to fight back because you were just so, so tired. And maybe you deserved to die. But you didn’t want to die without telling Azriel everything you were thinking.

Caliban screamed in pain. Turning to face him you see your guardian angel kneeling over him. Truthteller dripping with Caliban’s blood.

Azriel was fuming. His chest moving up and down with his rapid breaths. “Azriel,” you croak out. He snaps out of his trance. “Y/n,” he slide over to you on his knees, cradling your head in his hands. “It’s ok. We’re going to take you home.”

Mor appeared over his shoulder. A relieved smile gracing her full lips. Azriel stands with you in his arms. Mor holds onto his arm winnowing you both back to the Town House. Azriel brings you right up to his old room, setting you down gently on the bed.

Mor comes back with Madja in tow. The old healer giving Azriel a look that said “I know this is your brother’s fault” as she mended your broken nose.

Azriel holds your hand the whole time, being that silent calming presence for you until Madja left

“Why didn’t you fight harder? I know you could’ve gotten up.” There was pain in his voice. A long painful silence fell between you two before you answered. “I thought maybe I deserved it.” Tears silently fall down your cheeks as Azriel lightly squeezes your hand. He felt his heart crack a little. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Azriel shakes his head, his heart fully cleaving in two. “There is nothing to be sorry for y/n. Things haven’t been easy for you and I’ve seen that.” Azriel pulls you onto his lap hugging you to his chest as you sob.

Weeks later Azriel hasn’t left your side. Your words troubled him and he wants to show you that you deserve everything good in life. It was his mission to make sure you stopped punishing yourself for his past.

While Cassian gave him suggestions Azriel ignored his brother. His and Nesta’s relationship got off to a rocky start and the couple are still working their issues out.

Az decided to take a different approach with you. Some days you would take breaks from training. He would take you out to eat in the city or for a bonding activity, as Az liked to call it.

You gave him a questioning look the first time he suggested it. Then followed up with, “We do what I want everyday. Let’s do something you want to do.” You raised a brow at him. Feeling like this was a trap. But you’d take it. “Ok,” you shrugged and headed out the door.

You dragged Azriel from shop to shop to see where his limit would be for you buying extravagant items. He didn’t complain once though. Az just smiled and held a majority of the bags for you

Over the next few months you became closer with Azriel. The two of you have gotten so close you consider him one of your best friends. The spymaster quickly became your confidant. You opened up to him about things you haven’t even told Nesta.

It was your scheduled fudge night, where you each bring a different kind of fudge home, eat and gossip. Along with the occasional glass of wine. You were laughing about a story Az was telling you about Cassian in their 30’s. Rhys away with his father and the pair decided to party it up in the city without their brother. Azriel isn’t sure how he lost Cassian but when he finally found the General he was floating on his back in the Sidra.

“Just floating,” you snorted out covering your mouth. “Yes! He told me he saw a mermaid and just had to woo her.” That made you laugh even harder, leaning on his shoulder as you regained your composure. Azriel’s heart stutters at your palm lying flat against his chest. Your touch is soft and welcomed.

Az smiles down at you, watching the color of your cheeks go from that cherry red to their normal color. Your lips still pulled into a smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes. Azriel didn’t realize that he was softly smiling at you until you looked at him asking, “What?” He shook his head, “Nothing.” His voice gentle.

You brush it off going back to the chocolate peanut butter fudge Azriel brought. Taking a bite and sinking back into the cushions you ask for another embarrassing story. Azriel obliges because he could never deny you.

Another bonding activity you two cherish is painting. Like for the kids Feyre runs classes for you and Az find it therapeutic

Once a month, when there’s a free afternoon in the studio’s schedule, Feyre lets you two have a free paint session. You and Az set up easels to face each other and chat while you paint.

Your first painting session was silent except for the sound of the brushes and occasional question azriel would ask you. You only gave him one word answers of course. And the painting you made was a mess of colors. You just had to get your anger put and didn’t feel like trying. At the end of the hour you shoved it in the trash can and left without Azriel.

Today that first session felt like a lifetime ago. You were chatting with Azriel, gossiping and laughing like you’ve been friends for centuries

This time you were adding to a painting you started two months ago. You really wanted to get better at drawing and even asked Feyre to teach you the basics in your free time. Hands are a hard thing to draw but the skill came quite easy to you.

Putting the finishing touches on the shading of the sword you stand back and admire your hard work. It’s of one of the most important moments in your life, when Azriel taught you how to hold a sword. On that day you knew everything would change. There was a new trust between you and Azriel, he trusted you and believed in your abilities. It felt like the first time someone really believed in you, like your potential was truly seen.

In the painting Azriel was guiding your hand to grip the hilt correctly. The sapphire siphons looked like they were glowing and the white ribbon you cut on your fourth try was wrapped around your wrist.

“Are you finally going to let me see it?” Az asked, dragging his own brush in long strokes across the canvas. You squinted your eyes in thought, debating if you truly wanted to show him or wait for Feyre’s critique. “I guess,” you sigh.

Azriel laid down his brush and pallet, wiping his hands off with a paint cover cloth. Coming to face your painting his jaw dropped and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Azriel was rendered speechless by your skills. “Wow,” he breathed out. “Y/n…this is incredible. The detail. My scars even,” his scared hand reached out to touch the painting before he realized he shouldn’t. Instead he mindlessly moved to gently hold your hand.

The two of you stood there staring at your art for a while. You finally noticed Azriel had laced his fingers with yours. You smile at your joined hands, squeezing his before staring back at the painting.

Azriel looks down at you, that love sick smile you always seem to miss was on his face again. Just as he’s about to say something (he hoped would be romantic) Feyre came back from lunch. The bell above the door chimed causing you to jump apart.

“Wow!” She quickly made her way over to you to get a better look at your painting. “Y/n! This is fantastic! We must get it framed and hang it in the house.” The High Lady rambled on, praising your skills.

Azriel crept out as you and Feyre talked. He would talk to you again and there would be another time to tell you what was on his mind.

Missions these days were always vetted by Azriel before Rhys asked you to do anything. You haven’t been doing many lately anyway. Helping Azriel delegate, strategizing, and desk work has been your strong suit.

When Rhys noticed he called you both to his office. Azriel could tell Rhys was angry with him. He knew his brother’s tells well enough. You on the other hand just thought Rhys wanted a progress report on your skills again.

“Sit,” the High Lord said through gritted teeth. You tried to avert Rhy’s gaze while Azriel held strong, staring his brother down. Azriel would stand by his decision to keep you safe. That day he found you with Caliban scared the shit out of him. He never wanted you out there alone or without him again.

Rhys looked at you first. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been going into the field lately.” You shook your head, finally looking at your High Lord. “Care to explain.” You didn’t know what to say. Wouldn’t this be a problem between him and Az. “I—Az has been pairing me up less. I’ve been training more with the Valkyries and field work has been pushed back.”

Rhys let out a hum, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Azriel,” he directed his attention to his brother whose eyes haven’t left him once. “Why isn’t she out there? Is she not one of your spies? Is there not work to be done?” Azriel clenched his jaw. Once again biting his tongue.

“I have had y/n doing other tasks she is comfortable with.” Azriel’s voice was restrained. He saw right through Rhys’s questions and damn him. Azriel saw you were reluctant to go out after Caliban so he made a choice that would keep you safe. “Was it y/n’s choice or yours?” Before Azriel could explode on Rhys you rest a hand on his thigh for comfort. “It was my decision, Rhys. I haven’t been the best out in the field and Azriel found what I’m good at.” You look between the two of them with a small smile to diffuse the tension.

Rhys returned your smile giving you a nod. “I’m glad that you found something you like. Could you give Azriel and I a moment please.” You wordlessly get up and give Azriel’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

Once they were sure you were down the hall Rhys began his tirade. “You do not get to decide what her limits are. I know what she said just now, that was clearly to cover for you. But you cannot keep treating y/n like this.” “Like what,” Azriel spat back.

“Like she is a child! Y/n has come very far in her career, something her father would be proud of. By resigning her to desk work you tear down all the confidence she has built. You’ve kept her away from everything since Caliban. I needed her in the Hewn City and you told me no. I needed her in Autumn and Day and you shot those down too. Why?” Rhys was trying to keep his cool but there was a desperation to his questions.

Azriel stood from his chair. “She doesn’t want to be her father. Y/n is more than this.” Realization flashed in Rhys’s eyes. “Y/n has truly found something she is good at. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and one of your best strategists.” Without another word Azriel turned on his heel and left.

After that conversation Rhys laid off you more. He quickly realized things were more organized since you had left spying

You kept your distance from Azriel for a few days, unsure if you got him in trouble by lying to the High Lord. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. Az just suggested a new position and you took it.

Did you work for those few days? No. You took them to rest. You haven’t taken a day off in over a year so, why not relax.

You baked cookies, something you used to do with your grandmother every week. You decided on snicker-doodles to enjoy while starting the stack of books Nesta and Emerie suggested you read.

Azriel also gave you your space. He’s been by your side for months at this point. You could use a few days without him, even though it pained him. Azriel loved spending time with you. Sure you brought chaos into his life, but it was the good kind.

On day four of being apart Azriel couldn’t take it anymore. He found you wrapped in your favorite blanket in one of the least used siting rooms in the House of Wind. A fire roaring in the hearth to keep you warm, a mug of tea next to a plate of cookies ready for you when you take a break.

Putting your book down you finally notice Az staring at you in the doorway. That love sick smile he thinks you don’t notice plastered on his face. “Hey,” you say excitedly. “Come, sit with me.” You pat the spot on the couch next to you.

He plops down next to you, curling a wing around you for extra warmth. Without a second thought you snuggle into his side. A blush dusts Azriel’s tan cheeks as he looks away from you. You giggle at the sight of the feared spymaster blushing.

You gently trace his cheek down to his jaw, taking in his beauty. Over the last year you had become very taken with Azriel. He had been there for you no matter what you threw at him. You pull Azriel’s face to look at you. You met his hazel eyes that held so much love and adoration for you, you just didn’t see it.

“Y/n I, there’s something I’ve wanted to say and I just—” Azriel cut himself off with a shake of his head, leaning in so his lips meet yours in a soft kiss you’ve been waiting months for. You kissed him back, running your fingers through his hair.

Breaking apart you give him a giddy smile. It was the most genuine look he’s seen on you since you came to them. “That was better than anything you could’ve said.” You whisper, leaning your forehead against his. Az smiled back, “I still have so much I want to say. Have to say.” “I have all the time to listen.”

[bookishdidi]

Graphs don't lie!

Art by schetroschky (Tumblr) | schetroschky (Instagram)

One of the first things I woke up to yesterday was a post downplaying Gwyn and Emerie’s importance, and honestly? I couldn't just scroll past that. Like, let’s not forget these are two of the only three women to ever take part in (and win!) the Blood Rite—a historic achievement, especially considering the efforts by Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys to create programs encouraging female warriors in Illyria, which are often met with resistance due to deep-rooted cultural stigma. Emerie is the first Illyrian woman to achieve the status of Carynthian, and Gwyn, once confined by her fears as a priestess in the library, overcame them to become a formidable warrior on the battlefield. These two are flipping the script, smashing norms, and inspiring a whole new wave of badass women. So yeah, their impact is anything but minor.

And because I love to nerd out, I brought graphs! I crunched the numbers on how often Gwyn and Emerie get mentioned in ACOSF compared to other 'relevant' characters. This is just to give us a clearer picture of how much these two queens actually show up in the story they're a part of.

Note: I'm only considering the main books: 1, 2, 3, and 4. I'm not including Rhys, Feyre, or Tamlin, as I consider them main characters. Also, I’m excluding the number of mentions for Nesta and Cassian in ACOSF.

This graph shows the highest number of times each character’s name was mentioned in a single book, highlighting where they had the most frequent presence.

Since ACOSF is the longest book, it might seem like Gwyn and Emerie being mentioned more often than other characters is just due to its length. But even when accounting for this, they still top the list.

This graph shows the percentage of the maximum times each character’s name is mentioned in a single book compared to the total word count of that book.

So keep yapping. Gwyn and Emerie aren't just important and relevant to the plot; they have significant screen time.

My conclusion is...

Here is all the data I collected:

And a few more graphics in case it's something you're interested in:

[sillymercury]

Make You See My Crazy

AzrielxReader

<3

Warnings: some slightly sexual themes

Word count: 7.9k

It’s split into parts only bc I can’t stop yapping

Summary: Upon joining the inner circle you expected excitement, movement, enterprise. Instead you were faced with mundane, every day was nearly the same and repetitive motion was killing you. It’s hard sneaking around the person you love but it’s inevitable when they’re the one holding you back.

Part 2 to I’m not the Crazy One, She Is

<3

I thought working with the inner circle would be action packed; missions, fighting, or infiltrating other courts. I imagined myself having serious debriefs with Rhysand and far off adventures with Mor or Azriel. But for the first year and some change it’s just been training. Every. Day.

I guess it was to be expected, I had to be thoroughly prepared; even if what I was being prepared for was the impossible.

Some of the scenarios Azriel would throw at me were absolutely off the wall; like being shrunken down and hidden under a walnut casing, being drugged with hallucinogenic cookies that make the enemy seem like friends, being eaten by a shark? It was deluded. I asked him if any of those things ever happened to him, his answer; “Unimportant. It could happen to you.”

I thought I was flying through training with flying colors, and so did Rhysand and Cassian and Nesta and Gwyn and Feyre and Emerie and Morrigan and Amren and pretty much everyone other than Azriel. He always found something to correct or have a question with no right answer. At first it was funny, but then I mastered the sword, dagger, staff, bow and arrow, and my personal favorite nunchucks. Now it’s just condescending.

The time I wasn’t preparing for the impossible I was working on strengthening my powers with Amren and Nesta. I’ve had control of my abilities for the better part of two centuries but using them for combat was different. I had mostly used them to get what I want, adopting strangers on the streets powers to make my night more interesting. Now I was using people’s own powers against them. My abilities expanded beyond what I ever thought, what I had ever attempted. I can connect with at least 3 people, stealing power from multiple sources. I can also connect over a distance but that’s only for people that I know, if I can envision them in my minds eye and envision their powers I can connect from virtually anywhere.

Ive never felt more powerful, more formidable, more like a force to be reckoned with than since I’ve begun working with the inner circle. But for some reason, a reason that edged my last nerve Azriel didn’t see it.

“I can take on anyone in this godsdamned court and hold my own, but it’s always ‘you’re not ready’ ‘you need more training’ ‘what if something terribly unlikely happens?’” I groaned at I threw myself back onto Nesta and Cassian’s shared bed. The female was perched at the top, legs tucked underneath herself, watching me with a sly expression.

“It’s because he likes you,” Nesta teased, a knowing smile making its way onto her face.

I flipped myself over and bit my bottom lip, failing at controlling my smile. “I know,” I said dreamily, I could feel my face heat as I thought of the shadowsinger. “But that’s another thing, he likes me, I know he does. But he’s also distant, not physically but emotionally. He’s holding back from me and I don’t know why. Like go king! Give me nothing!”

Nesta laughed as she slid onto her stomach as well, face close to mine, “That’s just how these Illyrians are. They only want love if it’s torture.”

I rolled my eyes at her words, “What did you read that in a book or something?”

“Or something,” she smirked and I chuckled at response shaking my head. “I can’t help you with your love sick yet sickeningly distant Az but in terms of putting you in the field; talk to Rhys. Tell him that you feel more than ready to have a mission of your own.”

I groaned, sneaking around Az didn’t feel right. I wanted him to see me, see what I’m capable of and want me by his side. “Okay,” I said while I picked at my nails. I peaked at the female and she gave me a pointed look, “Okay!” This time I spoke with more conviction. Standing up I stamped my foot with my hands on my hips “I am going to talk to him,” I turned my head to glance out the window, night had taken over the sky, “tomorrow morning.”

It was Nestas turn to groan, her face fell into the bed as she shook her head, “Your just as bad as Azriel.”

“Come on. It’s late, he’s probably in bed. Plus last time I went to him this late…” I shuddered. Nesta just laughed, obviously recalling the story of me winnowing into Rhys’ office and seeing my high lord and high lady in a… compromising position. “Alright,” I stretched, “I’m going home, don’t wait for me at training. I’ll see Rhys bright and early!”

Her face held mock conviction as she nodded once. I just laughed and leaned over to press a loving kiss to the females head, “Bye!!!!” I sang as I channeled Rhys from afar and winnowed myself home.

I was offered a room at the House of Wind and I stayed there most nights but I still kept my cottage. With the egregious checks Rhys wrote me every month I could afford my own little castle but this was home. A new fae had moved in next door, a very nice one, and the corner was cozier than ever before. Also with Az away, the house of wind felt… colder; I needed the warmth of my space.

I went through my night routine; stripping the leathers I had grown accustomed to wearing, cleaning my hair and skin, and climbing into bed with a shirt that Azriel definitely knew was missing. As I laid I contemplated what I would say to Rhys, he has said he thought I was ready but he still backed up Azriel. I shook my head, deciding I couldn’t wait until morning.

Rhys, I whispered into his mind. Channeling his power I was able to slip past his barriers, something he was truly disturbed to find out I could do. Rhys, I tried again a little louder when he didn’t answer.

Stop using my power against me, he spoke, frustration clear. I hate when you do that.

I giggled into his mind, finding out that mental barriers don’t work against me was a pleasant surprise for me and a source of grief for Rhys. Powers are connected to emotions so the more passionate I made someone the more control I could take over their magic. I need to talk to you.

It can’t wait? I’m… busy. I knew exactly what he meant and shivered as war flash backs played in my brain.

Ewwww, I ragged. I suppose it can. I turned in my bed, making myself comfy.

The silence didn’t last long, Never mind, Nyx just woke. What do you need Y/n?

I paused, a hundred persuasive and graceful ways to ask came to the forefront but I chose succinctness. I want to go on a mission.

He paused, from inside his mind I could hear the wheels turning but out of respect for his privacy I cast my glance away. Waiting until Az is out of town, are you trying to get me in trouble?

No! I just… I’m ready. There was nothing else to say, I’m ready. I know it, Rhys knows it, everyone in this circle knows it; it’s time for me to prove it.

I heard him click his tongue, thinking of how to deny me nicely. I filled his head with my disappointment, my hurt from being consistently passed over. A sigh was heard, and I felt his conviction break.

Okay, I have an idea. See me in the morning.

I didn’t let my excitement slip into his mind but I’m sure he heard it in my voice, Okay, okay! Perfect. I’ll see you!

I disconnected from him and rolled over, giggling into my pillow and kicking lightly under my blanket. I wondered what Rhys had planned, I tried not to let my imagination get me too excited but as I fell into rest depictions of other courts circled my mind.

-

Azriel landed in the training ring with a swift silence. His leathers were glistening in the sun, clean and shiny. He picked up the habit of cleaning them before returning right around the time you started spending nights in the House of Wind. The thought of you seeing him covered in blood unsettled him, he knew deep down you wouldn’t truly care but he wanted to protect you nonetheless.

His bright eyes scanned the ring; priestesses, Valkyrie’s, and a very loud Cassian controlled the space. No you.

She’s not here, his shadows informed him. Upon further prompting his shadows informed him that you weren’t at home, or with Rhys. His eyebrows knitted with confusion as he continued to glance around. It wouldn’t be the first time you skipped training, he pictured the time he caught you tucked into a high-end dress store when you were meant to be in the ring.

He was prepared to take to the skies, ready to find where you were hiding before his brother cut him off, “Az, honey! Not even a hello?” Cass was walking toward him with a natural ease and he couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

“Hello brother,” was all he offered. His voice was void of emotion but his heart was full, coming home to family was always enjoyable. Especially after spending time in the dark tunnels of the Hewn City, seeing someone with a smile on their face was appreciated.

Cass wrapped strong arms around Az’s shoulders, holding him tight. Azriel just returned the favor with two quick taps on his back under his wings.

“I need to go find Y-“ he didn’t make it through his sentence before Cassian cut him off.

“You need to come see these priestesses,” with an arm around Az’s shoulder he led him further into the ring. “We’ve got six more priestesses picking up swords, we have a little battalion on our hands.”

Az lightly smiled and nodded, letting his brother lead him. He figured you could have the day off, you deserve it. You had been doing amazing, you were a quick learner; swift, light on your feet, and knew how to finish strong. Your fighting coupled with your power, you would be daunting in the felid; when you were ready… when he was ready to let you be ready.

Az knew you would hold your on, connecting to his power you would be the assets he always needed but he wanted to protect you, keep you safe from that part of his life as long as he could.

The better part of the morning and early afternoon were spent with the priestesses. Helping them with their swordsmanship, correcting techniques and giving confidence where it was needed. Cass and Az felt something like pride as the watched the females taking back the power that was stolen from them. With training behind them the boys gathered around the island in the extravagant kitchen, chatting with Emerie, Gwyn, and Nesta about the progress being made. You stayed in the back of Azriel’s mind, not being at training and not showing up as the day pushed on. He tried to keep cool about it, you were sensible and strong and he didn’t need to keep you on a leash, but with training 3 hours behind him his hands started to itch at the lack of your presence. His attentive shadows kept him updated, you still weren’t at your house or any of Rhys’.

“So where’s Y/n?” He asked, trying to remain casual as he leaned forward, bracing his arms on the stone island. Lunch had came and went without a word from you. Gwyn’s eyes widened for a fraction of a a second but Emerie quickly pulled her into conversation pertaining to their upcoming book club. Weird.

Nesta just pursed her lips and shrugged coolly, a light shake of her head accompanying the motion. Cassian on the other hand was staring into the tea he that had suddenly became very interesting. That was weirder. If Cass didn’t know he would’ve came up with some witty remark like, ‘she probably found a hot male with emotional maturity’ or ‘she has your account information, probably running you into the ground.’

He stalked a little closer to his brother, Cass just dipped his head further towards his cup. Az bit his cheek, thanking the mother for his brothers inability to keep a secret or produce a good lie.

Az wrapped a wing around his brothers form and dipped down too, “If you put your nose any further into that cup, you’ll drown.”

“Huh? Oh!” Cass laughed as he stood up straighter. He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders, trying to gain some semblance of confidence. Nesta gave him a look and he turned away quickly, unfortunately for him he turned directly toward Az. The only thing he could do was offer a nervous smile.

Az returned the favor with a saccharine grin, got him. “Where is she Cass?”

“Who?” He asked dumbly. He clenched his fist to keep from slapping his face, he was under the fire of his brothers gaze and he was choking. Az just raised his eyebrows and gave him a pointed look. “Oh, Y/n. Pfft I don’t-“ he tried to do what Nesta did, pout his lips and shrug coolly. He didn’t look cool. “I don’t know. Where is she Nesta?” His voice suddenly carried a faux confusion as he turned to his mate, attempting to take attention off of himself.

Nesta glared, “I. Don’t. Know,” she bit out through gritted teeth. Cass gulped, knowing no matter how this ended he was screwed. He just nodded, humming at her before turning to Az, offering up another lame shrug.

Az looked between the two for a second before glancing over at the other two fae. Their conversation had stopped to take in the scene, at the instant of Azriel’s eyes they quickly turned away and began speaking again.

Az just nodded, the picture of calm. Cassian gulped yet again, he knew he was the weakest link and that Azriel would press him specifically for information. Cassian’s fears were confirmed when the sick smile returned to Az’s face and a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. “Cassian,” Az’s voice was low, slow, “Where is she?” The calmness and gentleness of his words sent a shiver down Cassian’s spine.

“I don’t know, truly,” he was folding. Nesta shook her head before placing it in the arms that were folded across the counter. “She was begging and she wouldn’t let up. Said she was super determined and no wasn’t a viable answer so Rhys caved, sent her on a mission this morning.”

“Good gods,” slipped from Nestas lips. Hand braced on her shaking forehead as she looked into the distance, questioning the mother.

“What?” Az’s grip turned to iron and his brother cringed at the force. He looked between the four in the kitchen, everyone knew. Everyone knew and wanted to keep it from him, if he wasn’t losing his mind he might feel bad.

Nothing else was said, there was nothing left to say, Azriel’s pace was rushed as he pushed through the balcony doors and into the sky.

“Azriel,” Rhys breathed. If the frustration wasn’t clear in his voice, it showed in the way his hands slid down his face.

“Rhys,” he pressed, “I know I just- she just needs more time.” Rhys shook his head at his brothers words, disagreeing. He knew if it were up to Az you would never leave the safety of Velaris. “How would you feel if it was Feyre?” Az’s pushing earned him a growl.

“If you remember, it was Feyre. I had to let her fight far before she was ready. Even so, Y/n is leagues ahead of Feyre.” Az shook his head now, desperately trying to find the words to convince his brother. “If we keep her stagnant any longer the poor female will become destitute.” Azwas quickly becoming hysterical, you meant so much to him and putting you in the line of fire… Hot angry tears pooled on his bottom lash despite his best efforts to keep them at bay, continuing to shake his head as he began clenching his fist. He was fighting so desperately to take control of this situation but Rhys was hard headed and determined to try out his new toy.

“It’s not going to be easy, it will never be easy dealing with the possibility of your mate getting hurt. But if you’re just going to coddle her then what’s the point of bringing her into this circle? She is smart, and strong, let her prove it.”

Az let out a chopped breath. It was his turn to bring his hands to his face, shamefully hiding the tears Rhys was already aware of. He didn’t speak for a moment, pondering. When he brought her in he had to admit he didn’t think of this. He saw it as an excuse to have her close, bring her into the family and keep her around. But after getting close to her, learning her, loving her, he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to keep her hidden from the dark world he had come to know so well. He wished she was offered a different position even though her powers were an amazing defensive and offensive asset; he never wanted to use it.

He shook his head one more time, “I just need more time.” His pleading voice broke and Rhys softened at the sound. All he’s ever wanted for his brother was to feel that earth shattering love like the one he felt for Feyre. How could he tell him those fears were invalid? That they don’t have basis? They’re wrong? He couldn’t and when Az let out one more shaky, “Please, brother,” he couldn’t say no.

Azriel landed in front of the river house with a thud, no shadowy elegance and no preternatural silence. His heightened emotions pushed all of that out of the way to make room for his task; find Rhys, kill Rhys.

He stomped through the house, making his presence and his anger known. He didn’t bother to knock on Rhys’ office door, just blowing it wide open. His high lord sat in his large leather chair while his high lady was perched on the edge of the desk, engaged in loving conversation.

The slamming doors caught their attention as Azriel stopped short of Rhys’ desk, growling his name.

“I figured you’d show up here soon enough, do you have your mission report?” Rhys was calm as he leaned back in his chair, observing Azriel and his pristine leathers and contorted face. Az wanted to stick his eyes and shake Rhys until his head fell off.

“You know that’s not why I’m here,” his voice was low as he struggled to form a sentence and not a fist.

“Oh?” Rhys feigned innocence and Azriel’s grip slipped, fists taking place at his side. “Why are you here then brother?”

A low scoff made its way out, Azriel had to look away to collect the parts of him he could. He didn’t want to play this stupid back and forth game, he wanted to find you. Blowing up on Rhys wouldn’t do anything good for him so he bit out his next words, “My mate. Where is she?”

“Ah, yes.” Rhys just nodded as he continued to look Azriel up and down, sizing how far he could push him. Feyre on the side held a confused face as she tried to decipher the situation. Azriel’s mate? How would Rhys know where she is? A low growl reverberated through Az and his brother just clicked his tongue in response. “She’s fine Az, please-“

Azriel cut him off, walking closer to brace his hands on the desk, “I told you she wasn’t ready. She needed more time to-“

It was Azriel’s turn to get cut off as he held up a hand, “No. You said you weren’t ready. You said you needed time. I gave you time, that times up.”

Az growled again, hands gripping the desk with so much force the wood under his hands groaned. His eyes were wild and his face displayed so much fury Feyre thought he might jump over it and tear into Rhys. “Az…” she said tentatively.

“Did you know?” He looked at her accusingly, not being able to hold his rage back from her. Her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her heart, her hair slid over her shoulder as she shook it back and forth.

“Know what Az? You found your mate? That’s amazing, I-“ Feyre tried to lighten the mood, choosing to focus on the good parts of the conversation.

Az rolled his eyes away from her and back to his brother. “Yes, I did find her.” His eyes held his brothers in challenge, Rhys didn’t back down but Az would either. “It’s a shame though, Rhys seems adamant on getting her killed.” He leaned in slightly, baring his teeth on the last word.

The thought of you out there, alone, in a potentially dangerous situation made his brain fog. His whole body twitched; desperate to tear apart the entirety of Pyrthian until he found you. Deep down he knew his feelings were irrational, Rhys wouldn’t send you somewhere dangerous for your first mission, solo to boot. He knew that you were fierce in your fighting technique. He knew that the reservoir of powers you could access made you one of, if not the most, powerful fae in Pyrthian. He knew you didn’t need him to protect or guard you and that you wanted this. Knowing all of those things doesn’t make it any easier though.

“She’s not- Az please,” Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut, trying to will away the headache his brother was giving him. “Feyre, baby, give us a moment.”

She just nodded, eyes still examining Az as if she’d find her answer written on his face. She leaned into the kiss Rhys placed on her forehead before moseying out of the office. Rhys pushed himself away from the desk and to the large couch in his office. He grabbed two glasses and the decanter off the liquor cart before sitting down. Az watched silently as he poured two neat glasses of whiskey and sipped one while offering the other.

When Az didn’t move he sat the other glass down and stared at it before saying, “She’s in no danger brother. But you might want to have a drink before I tell you where she is.”

Az’s hands returned to fists and he just stared, zeroed in on Rhys like a deadly predator. Rhys rolled his eyes and gestured to the spot on the couch next time, insinuating he wouldn’t speak until Az at least sat down. Begrudgingly he followed his brothers instructions though sitting down didn’t display any comfort as he was still rigid.

Rhys just watched his brother, looking at him as if the right way to inform him of his mate’s whereabouts would be written on his skin somewhere. The stare only unnerved Az, his skin started to prickle at the attention he was receiving and his vague patience was slipping.

He took a deep breath before grabbing the drink, downing it in one go. It didn’t help his nerves but he let out a sigh anyway before turning back, “Where is she?” His voice was calmer now, the anger was replaced with desperation, exhaustion.

Rhys let out a sigh too, leaning back he stared for a moment longer. “She’s in the day court, where she will remain for the next month and a half.” Az’s eyes widened and with furrowed eyebrows he insisted Rhys go on, “After that she will spend a month and a half in dawn, then winter, summer, and possibly autumn. I’ve spoken with Eris but I’m not entirely sure if we’ll be able to slip her in past Beron.”

Az shook his head, trying to grasp the information being given to him. “Wait you sent her through the courts? For the next 8 months? Why?”

“More training,” he leveled a look at Az whose face still displayed confusion. “Apparently what we’re doing here isn’t enough, so she will train with our closest allies. Learn all new powers along the way and techniques even we don’t have. By the time she comes back, even you will think she’s ready.”

Azriel shot up, hands coming to slide down his face has he passed around the low table. You were gone? For potentially 7.5 months? This was wrong, so so wrong. You should be here, by his side where he can see to it that you get the training you need. The thought of someone else, potentially another male, training you… his skin felt hot to the touch.

“Rhys! I don’t- what do you mean?” He stopped pacing in front of his brother, he wanted to scream, tear him a new one but he felt too manic to focus on that now. “So she’s just gone? For months?! I don’t- how could you do this!”

Rhys poured Az another glass as he spoke, “What was I supposed to do Az? You were safe guarding her to the point it was damn near suffocating. She just wanted to do something, to feel like her time was productive-“

“It was productive!” Az cut in, “She was with me! I was training her! Sending her away like that- what if someone finds about her powers? Do you know what other courts would do to get their hands on her?!”

“Yes Az,” Rhys spoke in a tried tone, being able to tell this conversation wasn’t going to cool down anytime soon. “She knows, she’s safe guarding her powers. She won’t use them in training, just learning other courts techniques and studying their powers to bring back here and implement.”

Az scoffed and shook his head, resuming his pacing. He wasn’t convinced, there was worry and anger, and longing taking up all the space for rationality. “She just wanted to get out there, you know she’s never left Velaris?”

Az’s eyes flew to Rhys’ at the question. “Of course I know,” he bit out. He knew everything about you, everything you were willing to offer him. Late nights spent in your room- at a respectful distance- gave way to room for life stories. You indulged in your early life, family, friends, love history, hobbies, likes and dislikes. He kept it all stored away in meticulous detail, committing everything you’ve ever said to him in perfect memory. You vulnerability inspired him, encouraged him to do the same and bare his soul to you. He told you everything, except for one, or maybe two things. He was safe guarding the bond, not wanting it to influence your decision. He wanted you to choose him because you wanted to choose him, not because you thought you had too.

Rhys hummed, nodding. “Well, she wasn’t going to stop until I gave her something. She’s safe and she’s happy and she’ll be back in no time.”

Azriel rolled his eyes at his brothers hypocrisy, he would be beside himself if Feyre left for that long. He moved toward the door with determination, he was going to find you. He needed to tell you that he was sorry, you didn’t have to run or sneak behind his back. He would tell you what he knew was true and promise not to hold you back anymore. “No you won’t,” Rhys cleaved through his thoughts. “One visitation permit was issued from the courts, Im sure they wouldn’t appreciate my spy sleuthing around. Not to mention how she’d feel about it.”

Az growled at that, cutting his brother a loathsome glare before slamming the doors once again behind him. Rhys just sighed, leaning back and polishing off the drink Az didn’t finish.

-

No time, that was bullshit. The months passed like years and Azriel swears he could’ve lived multiple lives in the time you were gone. He wasn’t himself, out of step, out of sync. It was kinda crazy, he lived so long without you and after just a few hours of knowing you were gone he reverted to a shell of himself.

Some days he barely tried to train, moving through the sessions like a phantom. Other days he laid his hurt bare, taking it out on Cassian until his brother had to tell him ‘no more.’

Work wasn’t able to distract him, he had been on one mission since your departure. Rhys refused to let him go, claiming he was too frazzled to focused. Despite knowing its truth Az tried to disagree, he ended up losing train of thought half way through the conversation, proving Rhys’ point.

You had sent letters, 3 came at least twice a month. One to Rhys, giving updates on where she was and how training was going. One to Nesta, the two had grown close in her time training with the inner circle. One to Azriel, it was similar to Rhys’, she was giving life updates and telling him wonderful stories. Azriel wanted to answer, truly, but the longer he thought the more he realized he had nothing to say. You were having so much fun, meeting wonderful people, exploring new powers, and seeing Pyrthian like you always wanted. He was ashamed by the fact that if it was up to him, you wouldn’t have gone. He sat down to write how sorry he was, how excited for you he was, how he wished he could see it all with you but his letters only made it as far as the fire. He was convinced you were angry with him, that’s why you left while he was gone. He read and reread every letter so much they were a crumpled mess in his hands, some terrible part of him convinced him they were pity letters. His fears were “confirmed” when his letters stopped halfway through the third month.

He was a bit surprised when around the middle of the fourth month he felt talons tapping on his mental shield, far more polite that Rhys has ever been. He opened his shield just enough to let you in, not far enough for anything other than communication.

Hi Azriel, your voice rang through him like a church bell. He shivered at the pleasant invasion, unwittingly letting the rest of his walls down from you. His subconscious wanted you everywhere, invading every part of him, committing all of him to memory.

Hello, Y/n. He hated how timid his voice sounded. But he couldn’t help it, talking to you made him nervous, especially after ghosting your letters.

He heard you sigh into his mind and he couldn’t help himself but duplicate the sound. Hearing your voice, feeling your essence, provided much needed relief.

I’ve missed you, he spoke in his mind. The words came out as a soft whisper, tentative and unsure.

Yea? I could tell by the way you ignored all my letters. He cringed at your words, your tone was joking but he didn’t miss the thinly veiled frustration. He was silent; not sure how to respond or if he even could. His remorse flooded his head and you surely caught on, based on the way you quickly spoke again. I’m sorry, shouldn’t have-

No, he cut you off. You’re right, I should’ve responded. I just wasn’t- I didn’t know what to say. I was- I still am ashamed.

It was your turn to be silent. If he stilled his mind he swears he could feel you nodding. Your questioning voice came through, You think I shouldn’t have gone?

I thought that. But I’ve read your letters, the ones to me and the ones Rhys gave me access too. Your progress is… you couldn’t have achieved what you are now if I kept you hidden.

You were silent, Azriel could feel the contemplation. After a couple beats you spoke again. I’m sorry.

Don’t apologize, ever.

You waited before speaking again, But I am sorry. It felt wrong leaving the way I did, like I was sneaking behind your back. I didn’t even get to tell you goodbye.

Azriel chuckled lightly out loud. It’s a good thing though, I probably wouldn’t have let you go.

Oh yeah? You laugh. What would you have done? Restrain me? Your voice held a playful edge that excited something in Azriel. The lower end of his stomach began to twist and he had to control himself with you still in his mind.

It was his shadows that spoke next, let her see. Their encouragement drew back the curtain of self control and he opened his mind deeper for you. He let you into the fantasies of restraining you with his shadows. Covering your vision with wisps of darkness, blurring your senses to ensure touch was heightened.

He showed you how he would be slow, take his time with you. How he would push your body to absolute extremities, take you to your peak over and over before cradling your exhausted body. You were silent as you witnessed his eagerness, his willingness to give you all the pleasure your body could handle. He heard you let loose a breath, If I knew that’s what you’d do to me I would’ve left a lot sooner.

A dry chuckle left Az’s lips, Then perhaps your punishment should be to withhold such treatment. His smirk was evident in his voice, and you gasped out a laugh at the mention of what had become an inside joke.

You’re a tease! You shrieked down the mental bond and Azriel laughed freely.

Az stayed connected with you late into the night, speaking of pretty much anything under the sun, or in this case the moon. He talked until your voice slowed down and became soft hums of acknowledgment. Eventually your presence in his mind was peaceful, calm; the proof of your sleep

-

3 weeks.

10 days.

4 hours.

15 minutes.

The time that had dragged its feet through sand was now moving at a lively pace. It was by no means quick, you had still taken your time coming back. But with daily mental communication, daily mental flirtation, having only minutes between the two of you Azriel felt his skin buzz. His wings moved on their own, display his anticipation for the world.

Az had woken up early… earlier than usual. The sun was teasing the horizon, threatening to spill its light across the mostly sleeping city. Azriel couldn’t help the coy smile as he greeted the morning happily. Little tasks had kept his body busy as his brain counted down the minutes of your arrival. Shower, train, shower again, morning flight, cleaning, bureaucratic busy work, trip to the shops, following Cassian around for a couple hours. Azriel couldn’t sit down, if he did his leg would bounce and he would be up again in seconds.

But here he was, smoothing the already smooth leathers as he waited “casually” in the greeting room of the river house. He had cleaned up your room in the HoW when you left but he took to dusting it, changing your sheets, and adding fresh and fragrant flowers to liven up the space.

5 minutes, his shadows whispered as they danced around his ears. They reflected their masters eagerness, also unable to sit still and be patient.

You hadn’t connected with him today, most likely too busy getting your affairs in order. Azriel didn’t mind though, it added to his anticipation. For the first time in what could be ever he felt like a kid, bouncing around the room with an insatiable excitement brewing below.

Azriel rubbed his rough hands together and made eye contact with his shoes, a heavy breath left his lips and suddenly it felt stagnant. Everything stopped.

Seconds turned to hours as his head turned upwards. For a moment everything stoped, the world was lost to Azriel as he finally saw you. The sounds of the room became slow and muffled and the only sound was a soft song. A light airy melody, a beautiful blend of bells and chimes. A sweet sound made only by your presence.

The air finally left his mouth and the world returned to normal, time picked up and everything was moving again. The shadows that carried you in dissipated and the ground shook with the bellows of his family.

Cassian was first to reach you, spinning you around like a doll. He barely has time to put you down before Nesta latched on and mumbled something only you could hear. Feyre greeted you with a smile and open arms, Rhys extended a hand that you took firmly. Elaine and Amren gave welcome to your presence and suddenly it was Arziel’s turn. Even his shadows beat him to you, circling every inch- noting every tiny change within you, all the things that didn’t show though your voice in his mind every night. The lines created from muscle, the natural lightness added to your hair that only comes from saltwater and direct sunlight, the clear and unmistakable scent of raw power. Every little thing was reported back to him, the way each minuscule movement of yours was silent, the advanced lightness of each step that brought you closer, the disciplined posture you now carried. Then there was the perceptive glint in your eye, one that seemed to bore into his skin, one that traced every cell and tendon in his biology; tracking his synapses and learning his bones. One that tore apart his soul and memorized it.

“Azriel,” Your greeting was clean and simple; and it almost brought him to his knees. He steadied himself with a breath and clenched the fists that wanted to reach for you. Not yet. Not here.

“Welcome home Y/n,” all the courage that made a warrior was used as he held your eyes. You were still you, still the same female he devoted each waking thought to. But you now held an edge, a deadly aura that put even him off. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve learned.”

You smiled, all of your venom hidden behind perfect, pearly structures. “I can’t wait to show you.”

Your long awaited return was celebrated with dinner, drinks, and the promise of putting your skills to the test at first light. You celebrated and mingled, held your drink dutifully but didn’t take a single sip. Your months of watching your own back and the crippling paranoia that you would be made kept you from inebriation. Not to mention you wanted to be at your best when you displayed yourself. You casually turned in early, leaving the festivities to the ones who actually indulged. You took to setting your room up in a way only self preservation would justify. Weapons were hidden all around your space, a habit from being in enemy territory with no back up. You had to be ready for anything at any time, being caught off guard would be the difference between life and death. Once you felt confident in your new arrangements you climbed into bed, channeling Azriel’s shadows to watch you in your sleep.

-

I awoke before the sun, prepping myself in fighting leathers and a clean hairstyle. My go bag was packed and placed at the foot of the bed where it could be grabbed on the way out. It was full of all the weapons I had grown accustomed to using. Most of it was basic, knives, sabers, and folding spears. There were also more elaborate weapons unique to the courts I spent time in; light directors, specific for centralizing the power of light from the day court. Loch detonators, a device that turns powered water into intense explosives. The collection was impressive but most of it would prove to be useless today, I planned on taking the boys in hand-to-hand combat.

I pushed open the window of my room before climbing out. Scaling the monstrous house, I jumped and grabbed all the edges that would lead me to the roof. The roof was hipped into a long line, on that I ascend and landed at the apex. One foot balanced on the line while the other crossed over my bent knee. My hands stretched out on either side, keeping my center of gravity directly over the line.

The cold dusk air heightened every sense as I let loose. Thoughts escaped as my perfectly poised body found peace, my steady breath the only tether to the earth. With my mind clear and body at ease I was able to connect with every part of myself, honing every part of me for battle. After an hour of meditation I stood up and began to move. To any onlooker it would look like I’m dancing on the roof not partaking in an ancient practice of energetic redirection. I came across the art of Tai Chi in my time spent in the summer court, a friend I had made took me to her village on the southern edge and though it is a closed practice one of the elders agreed to teach the basics. I had also managed to find some scrolls on the subject in Helion’s vast library and continued my training. Now it was part of my daily exercise; balance my mind, body, and energy.

Nearly two hours and passed before I left the roof, opting to winnow in and grab my bag before making my way to the training ring. Cassian and Az were there, preparing for the day with calisthenics.

“Good morning angel,” Cassian greeted with the trademark smile that comes before saying something stupid. “Done dancing on the roof?”

I looked to your feet as a smile creeped onto my face, “Yea, ready to dance with you now.”

“Ohh, we’ll see about that,” Cassian’s face was smug but I kept smiling nonetheless. It made sense, he had no reason not to be. He’s perfectly unaware of what I’ve learned and what I’ve taught myself. Azriel on the other had looked calculating, like he was trying to note all the ways I’ve changed. His gaze was piercing, like he could figure out all I’ve learned just by looking at me. He knows all of my experiences, everywhere I was at any given time but my training was not something we had discussed in detail.

“What about you Azriel?” I tilted your head as I looked him up and down. Blatant and greedy, not even trying to hide my hunger. He had opted to train shirtless this morning, something whispered that it was a subtly attempt to distract me. “You ready to dance with me?”

Azriel smirked, stalking closer as he continued to tape his knuckles. “Hmph,” he matched my actions, eyes taking over the way your lean body contorted under my leathers. “I was born ready for you.”

I felt my body rise a hundred degrees and his words and gaze, I wanted to jump on him the same way I did in our shared visions. But I kept my composure, he was trying to rile me up. “I sure hope you mean that.” one finger made its way to his arm, tracing the tattoos there until it met the glove on his hand. I grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing his knuckles in a light teasing fashion. His nostrils flared as I looked up at him through l lashes. “Because Id want nothing more than a go at you.”

He opened his mouth but was cut off by his brother, “Good morning! I hope you’re all ready because I know I am.” Rhys strolled over with Feyre, Amren, and Mor in tow. He rubbed his hands together in a gesture that showed excitement before shoving them in his pockets.

“I hope you’re ready for a show,” Cass spoke as he stretched one last time, “Y/n plans to dance.” I just smiled in response, Rhys raised a brow and his eyes shone. He was the one receiving daily briefings. I had connected with him and let him see some of my work through my eyes. Some. The rest I kept safeguarded, waiting until this moment to show them off. Since I were essentially stealing the powers I was exposed to I didn’t have anyone to train me in their use, normally that would put me at a disadvantage but Rhys changed my outlook on that. Since I hadn’t been taught how to use them I was never put in a box, never limited to what everyone else thought was possible. I could experiment with the powers I encountered, come up with my own ways to use them, and create different techniques than those normally seen. The magic belonged to others but when I used them, the powers were wholly mine.

“Okay Y/n, who do you want to dance with first? Cassian or Azriel?” Rhys asked, the knowingly look on his face was obvious. He knew what I would say, and I wasn’t in the mood to disappoint.

“Aww, I can’t have both?” I pouted lightly, turning from Rhys to the other parts of the trio, “I’ve always wanted to take on brothers.” The tease in my voice lit a double meaning behind the words. Cass snorted and Az just ducked his head and shook it side to side, even so I could still see the small smile on his lips.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Cass said clasping his hands, “I’m in the wish granting business sweetheart.” I just nodded simply as I pursed my lips, looking them up and down once more before grabbing my bag and heading to the far end of the ring. As I was wrapping my own knuckles Nesta came over with a water bottle meant for me.

“Thanks honey,” I smiled as I took the water. “Promise you won’t hate me if I bang your mate up a bit?”

Nesta laughed, “Hate you? Baby I’ll thank you. That male needs humbled.” We both chuckled at that statement as I finished with my hands. “What weapon are you going to use?” Nesta asked as I shuffled around my bag. I hummed before pulling out a small fan and sheath to keep it in. The fan looked like any other handheld fan except instead of fabric it was made of metal that weren’t fixed, meaning they could move if struck. “This,” I smiled, strapping the fan to the outside of my thigh.

“Just that?” Nesta questioned, I nodded in response. Honestly it was a lie, I had no plans to use the fan, at least not as a weapon. I pulled it for show, it would be decoy used to distract and throw off the boys. The fan wasn’t wholly useless though, I picked up different ways to turn it into a weapon when wielded skillfully. It would be too cocky to walk in there with absolutely nothing and as much as I wanted to, I knew Cass wouldn’t recover from the ego hit he would take if I acted like I knew I could beat him with my bare hands; even if that was the plan. She tilted her head before humming as well, “What exactly did you learn out there?”

I just smiled, “I can show you better than I can tell you.” I winking before turning away from her, facing the ring to show that I was ready. I heard a whoop sound come from my friend as she made her way over to join the rest of the peanut gallery.

Cassian had chosen twin broad swords, something that would look comical in the hands of a human looked normal with the giant fae. Az had nothing in his hands but there were multiple daggers lining his pants, still no shirt. I would make sure he regretted that.

“Alright,” Rhys said bringing attention to himself “no need for idle chatter or pointless speeches, begin!”

And with that I stepped completely into the ring, focus trained on the warriors in front of me as the rest of the world disappeared. I couldn’t stop the dangerous smirk that snuck onto my lips, “Let’s dance.”

A/n: don’t hate me!!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to update. I was waking up at 12 then working from 3-11 and crashing when I got home. I work on a crisis unit so that shit is madddd draining, emotionally and physically. I felt like I had nothing left to put into my writing :/ but I finally switched to 3rd shift and for nearly my entire shift I don’t have to do anything but be there so I can write at work and I have more of my day open to relax and recharge. I’m sorry I had to split this into 3 parts but this just got so long and if I would’ve kept writing it would’ve straight up been a book. But I promise part 3 will not take as long to come out. Maybe not this weekend but soon! Anyways if you made it this far I LOVE YOU, thank you so much for giving me and my stories your time :)

Masterlist

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eleven

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None. Gwyn and Y/n bond over books. Azriel and Y/n get even closer — this had me kicking my feet and screaming internally and externally

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Rhysand’s training sessions always started with him sliding over ten objects: a book, a piece of jewelry, an article of clothing — anything he could find with meaning for you to discern.

“This one is Mor’s.” You held the red satin box in your hands. Two months ago you would have only been able to tell him who it belonged to. Maybe nothing at all. The meaning held by the object was weak. The jewelry too new. Unworn. But now you could harness your power with more precision, like you’d finally been handed an image of the puzzle you were trying to complete so you knew what to look for. “You bought it two months ago at Cizero’s as a Winter Solstice gift.” 

“And what is it exactly?” 

The box was still closed. 

You pushed your power forward, imagining light slipping in through the seam of the box. An image flashed in your mind. It was blurry, but held onto its form long enough for you to make it out. 

“Drop earrings. Rubies,” you said with a straight back before dropping the box into Rhysand’s open palm.

He smirked and clicked it open. Gold banded rubies hung from the backing like bloody tears, each drop separated by a diamond that flashed brighter than the stars in the ever darkening sky. 

You dared to smile, staring at the jewelry with a level of satisfaction you hadn’t felt since being handed top marks as an apprentice. 

“Very nicely done.” 

The box disappeared back into his desk beside a glimmering gemstone the size of your fist wrapped in tissue paper. 

It’s probably for Amren. You thought to yourself. Azriel told you she loved shiny things and hoarded her treasures like a crow. Hence why she’d yet to return from Summer with Varian. 

You moved on to the next portion of your exercises. With a feather light touch, Rhysand laid his hands on your palms, your wrists, your forearm, your shoulders. He moved up and down your body, waiting a minute for you to control yourself before touching the next flash of exposed skin. It was still difficult to completely contain your power, but you were getting better at moving it around your body. When he reached for your hands, you slid the magic up to your chest. When he reached for your knees, it moved down to your ankles. It was a delicate dance, like the curling of ocean water away from the shore or the splitting of a river around a stone. 

You did what you could to experience the touches with a clinical detachment and Rhysand did as well. He was careful. He stopped the moment you let out a gasp of surprise at the feeling of warm skin pressed against your own and there wasn’t an ounce of judgement written in his beautiful features when you trembled beneath his touch. 

“Take your time,” he said encouragingly.

For him, touch was a necessary part of life. He always had an arm slung over Cassian’s shoulders or wrapped around Feyre’s waist. He fell asleep with his mate pressed against him and he walked around the River House with Nyx on his shoulders and Velaria curled up in his arms. But there were also mornings when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, the feeling of Amarantha’s red-tipped nails dragging down his chest like she wanted to take more from him than just his body. Those were the days Feyre knew to give him his space. 

“Take all the time that you need.”

Rhys stepped away. You steadied your breath and took time to record your progress in the journal you kept close by. Although there was no true way to quantify your learning, your Day Court training never left you and you wrote down what little could be put into words — for posterity’s sake. Then maybe the next Clairvoyant the Mother willed into existence would have an easier time navigating this than you. 

Gwyn found you squirreled away in your usual reading room, back bowed over a flurry of books and note pages like a reed in the wind. You reached for the mug on the desk only to find it disappointingly empty. Unlike the River House, the Library did not fuel your caffeine addiction with reckless abandon. 

She floated over, abandoning the cart of books she’d been tasked with returning that night. Her legs were throbbing from the split squats Cassian had coached her through that evening, and she was desperate for a break. 

“Some light reading, I see?” she teased, sinking into the seat across from you. 

You looked up, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. It took a few moments for Gwyn’s shape to come into focus. 

“What?” The word slurred coming out of your mouth.

She tapped the ever growing pile of papers beside you. Your manuscript: 120 hand-written pages and counting. When the book became too frustrating to handle, you abandoned it in exchange for another productive task. Even if the 120 pages you’d reproduced were utter garbage.

You groaned, forehead slamming against the wood with a clatter. Thoughts of white blood cells, lymphatic vessels, and innate and acquired immunity knotted in your brain like the world’s worst game of cat’s cradle.

Gwyn would have found it amusing if she didn’t know just how much time you spent within the mountain. You’d effectively been adopted by the priestesses. Lurking here and there like a cat coming in from the cold. And you were just as disapproving as a stray. Gwyn would often catch you among the stacks, mumbling about the disorganization and how you couldn’t work in such paltry conditions. 

“Cauldron boil me, I’m sorry for asking.” Gwyn raised her hands in surrender. 

You let out a great, heaving sigh. “It’s not you.” 

“Oh I know it’s not me. You look like you’ve been dragged through a gutter.” 

You blinked wearily at the lovely priestess.

“A very clean, well-managed gutter.” She grinned. Her skin shone, reflecting the pale, fuzzy moonlight that filtered through the window above and doused the library in a silver sheen. 

“Thank you, Gwyn.” 

“Anytime.” She drummed her nails against the table, the beat of it almost sending you to sleep. “How long have you been here today?” she asked with concern.

“I don’t know. What time is it?”

“After midnight.” 

“Oh.” 

“How long?” Gwyn repeated and you dragged a hand down your face. 

“Seven hours? Give or take?” Your stomach growled. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

Gwyn grabbed you by the end of your robes, tugging you up several floors and down an unfamiliar hallway until you stopped in front of a teal-blue tapestry. Selkies, sirens, and water nymphs dove in and out of rippling waters highlighted by iridescent beads. She flung it to the side and pressed her hand against the bare stone. The slab sank into the wall and then slid open to reveal a cream-colored room adorned with bundles of babies' breath. 

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the neatly made bed. You swayed dangerously on your feet. 

“I’m really fine. I didn’t mean to bother you.” 

“Sit. Down.” She cut you with a lethal gaze Nesta would be proud of. 

You snapped your mouth shut, shuffled across the carpeted floor, and sank into the queen-sized bed. You played with the ties of your robe wrapping them around your finger, then unwrapping them, then wrapping them again.

King Tiberion, third of the Nachmanian line, born Aschieron Cambria Nostrus Tiberion Dalgna to Effel Taul and foreign-born…

Found dead at a young three-hundred-and-ninety-two years of age at the hands of her brother. Spell cleaver or not, Ingrid…

Something like a lock and a key. Magic that’s perfectly complementary might be afforded the unique ability to seal… and break… gods I’m tired… 

There have only been seven recorded Shadowsingers in history: Lovania Vallant born 895 in the age of Alders (see ref. 18992HBG Carstairs), Gherald Dashiv born 1459 in the age of — 

Gwyn snapped her fingers in front of you, pulling your mind out of the hurricane of thoughts. You were a strange creature. You spoke little, moved about the Library as quiet as a mouse, and you had an interesting habit of running your fingers along every book on the shelf. Back and forth, back and forth you’d run along before jerking to a stop like one of the books had caught you at the end of a fishing lure. 

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” you repeated. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Some would say that’s a good thing. It would make me incredibly trustworthy, at least when it comes to responding to things. I’d be terrible at keeping secrets, unless I was very careful about how I went about things. You know how it is. With the things.” 

Gwyn huffed with silent laughter and opened one of the cabinets in her small, makeshift kitchen. “Eat.” She commanded again and you were too slow to catch the sleeve of biscuits she tossed in your direction. It bounced off your forehead and landed in your lap. “I’ll be right back with something more substantial.” 

The door shut with a puff of air and you were left to chew on the chocolate and orange biscuits in silence. 

Gwyn’s room faced the city and you saw the lamplights burning through the windows that had been cut into the mountain rock, mimicking the stars that twinkled overhead like salt poured onto black glass. 

Cream satin sheets caught the moonlight until it glowed and you had the sudden urge to tip back and fall into oblivion. You could work for a long while, so long as you didn’t sit still long enough for the exhaustion to catch up to you — which you were doing now. 

You shoved another biscuit in your mouth, now almost halfway through the sleeve. It helped settle the hollowness in your stomach so you could pick yourself up and move over to the bookshelf. 

Bodice ripper, bodice ripper, murder mystery, bodice ripper, romantic comedy, found family adventure, spy thriller, bod—

Your face went red. Damn.

The priestess chose that moment to return to her room carrying a tray laden with bread, orange slices, and a thick mushroom stew leftover from dinner. She froze, pale cheeks turning a dusty rose as you silently pushed the book back onto the shelf. 

“Dragon-born? Really?” You shoved a burning spoonful of stew in your mouth and drowned the stale crust of bread, waiting for it to get sufficiently soggy enough you could chew it.

Gwyn groaned and buried her face in her pillows. “It was a phase.”

“Must have been a very long phase. You have the whole series and I know it took her thirty years to write them all.” 

Her head shot up. “How do you know?” 

“I read the first book.”

You sat up straighter, back pressed up against the closet that housed her daily robes, ceremonial garb, training gear, and Valkyrie armour. 

“So how can you judge me?!” 

“It makes no anatomical sense, Gwyn!” You threw your hands up in the air. “She’s four feet shorter than him. He’d sooner tear her in half before giving her any pleasure, and I’m not talking about his claws.”

The priestess scoffed. “Have some imagination, Y/n.” 

You huffed and pulled out a notebook from your ample pockets. You both spent the next thirty minutes going through hastily drawn sketches that would have disappointed Feyre to no end testing out your imaginative capabilities. Gwyn couldn’t stop smiling at you as you moved your hands through the air with animated fervor. Half of what you said didn’t make sense, but she would blame it on your sleep deprivation. 

You had Gwyn in stitches. The female hung off the bed, red-brown hair brushing the ground as she gasped for breath. You looked like you were sitting on the ceiling, black robes pooled around your knees like shadows. 

That sobered Gwyn up a bit. It was a real shame she liked you as much as she did. It made it harder for her to stay mad at Azriel.

And as if you read her mind, you asked, “Why don’t you come around to the River House?”

“What?” She wasn’t laughing anymore. 

“Why don’t you come to the River House?” You asked again. “You’re close friends with Nesta. You’re part of the Inner Circle. You have a guest room there, but I haven’t seen you at the house.” 

“Do you even spend enough time at the River House to know?”

“Yes.” 

Gwyn sighed and straightened up, folding her legs neatly beneath her on the bed. “Some… Some things happened a couple years ago. I won’t bore you with the details and I don’t know if I even have the right to tell you everything, but it’s colored the way the Inner Circle works now.”

“The details are the most important part,” you murmured, “I wish I had more details. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a stranger in that house.”

“You’re not a stranger,” Gwyn reassured you. “Is that why you spend so much time here?” she asked with genuine curiosity. 

“Yes and no. It feels closer to home here. Even if your lack of organization has made my job ten times more difficult. I don’t see why you haven’t adopted any kind of classification system. It’s a small library. It would be very easy to implement.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Gods, you were tired. The feeling came and went in waves. “I shouldn’t complain though, everyone has been incredibly kind and welcoming. Especially Azriel.” 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, fingers fluttering against your shoulders. You tucked your chin into your elbows and tried not to think about that glorious night of sleep with only Azriel and his shadows. Waking up with his chest rising and falling on the floor beside you.

You were falling for him and you knew it. Gods did you know it. Or maybe you could convince yourself you weren’t falling yet, but it was a steady march to the cliff’s edge and you weren’t stopping anytime soon.

Gwyn felt her heart stutter. “Oh? He’s usually so… quiet and… reserved.”

You thought about it for a long while. 

“I don’t think he’s nearly as quiet as everyone believes him to be,” you said thoughtfully, “I think he just speaks in his own way.” 

 You were right about Godswood and The Gallows. 

The letter arrived on your desk early in the morning. 

The Bookkeeper, Taunum Hyst, was found trying to burn books in the western greenwoods along with some texts from Argot’s. He fought back against the guards sent to retrieve him, but he didn’t know what he was doing. Even now he’s confused and adamant that the last three weeks have been a blur. There’s a daemati at work here. Someone other than Henna. Rhysand knows, if he hasn’t already told you.

I’ve sent a translated folktale in old Bauldish and Common, and another in Demnyon along with the others you asked for. They might be worth looking into to help with the book. I hope you’re enjoying your stay at the Night Court. Happy hunting and stay safe. 

~ Helion 

You were right. 

You dropped the letter, hands coming up to your mouth as you took in a deep, shaky breath. You knew Taunum Hyst. You could picture his salt-grey braids and coal-black skin. He’d helped perform the funeral rites for your mother. Hell he’d managed to make you laugh that terrible day. 

 Your stomach turned. If there truly was another daemati left in the Day Court that could help explain the killings. Either the Librarians could have died trying to keep the knowledge in their minds safe, or the daemati had made them kill themselves before moving onto their next victim. You didn’t know which was more tragic. 

The clock rang eleven bells and you hastily folded up the paper, dropping it into the box along with the rest of your father’s letters.  

“I think this might be the first time you’ve ever been late,” Rhysand said with an amused smirk. He leaned against the doorway to his office, ankles crossed over one another. Did that male ever stand normally? 

“It is the first time.”

“Of course you would know that.” 

You smirked, pushing open the door to find—

“Azriel?” 

The Shadowsinger stood with his hands neatly folded behind his back. “Y/n?”

“Cassian!” The Lord of Bloodshed leapt in front of his brother, arms spread wide. “I’m also here. Nesta couldn’t make it with Valkyrie training.” 

Feyre rolled her eyes with affection. She reached for Rhysand’s hand without thinking and he accepted with barely a glance. They were two magnets, always pulled towards one another in space.

“What’s going on?” You glanced back and forth between them all. It had always been just you and Rhysand during these lessons. 

“I thought it would be good to start practicing with other people when it comes to physical touch,” Rhysand explained. Azriel’s nostrils flared. “You’re getting comfortable with me, which I’m happy about. But I want you to get comfortable with everyone else too.” 

You told me you wanted another debrief about the Mortal Lands. Azriel was loath to admit that just the thought of touching your hand was making his heart race like a schoolboy. 

And I do. Rhysand said rather smugly, as if he already knew Azriel was freaking out inside. But I also know you wouldn’t have agreed to this if I asked you ahead of time. It’s amusing to see you like this, brother. Have you forgotten how to touch a female? His violet eyes glittered with mischief.

Azriel swallowed, eyes trained on you as you mulled over Rhysand’s comment and nodded. You wanted to be comfortable too. Comfortable in your body. Comfortable with other people touching you.   

You thought of what it might feel like to have Azriel’s hand tucked beneath your chin, not just his shadows, and shivered. 

Azriel nearly choked when you started undoing the ties of your robes. The gold embroidered fabric slipped off your shoulders in a soft hush that had Azriel going rigid. You wore traditional Night Court fashion beneath your Librarian robes — a tight black shirt revealed the gentle curves of your arms, the cut of your collarbones against your chest, the thin band of flesh around your stomach; a breezy skirt with slits cut into the sides that revealed flashes of your thighs with every movement you made. 

Feyre, Rhysand, and Cassian all shared looks, nearly bursting out laughing at the way Azriel’s shadows were in flight around him. A swarm of bees buzzing and murmuring about how beautiful you looked. 

Azriel had seen many fae in his time in various states of undress. He’d seen males and females in the Court of Nightmares parade about in scraps of silk and lace. He’d taken countless lovers to bed. Bodies were something he knew well. Something he knew intimately. But he had never felt so flustered as he did looking at you like this. He thought his heart might just burst in his chest.

Cassian elbowed Azriel in the ribs when you weren’t looking and one of Azriel’s shadows looped around his ponytail and pulled. 

“Ow.” Cassian rubbed the back of his head with a grin. “Rude.”

You felt rather ridiculous standing in the center of the room with your arms and legs stretched out to the side. 

“Right arm,” Rhysand called out. 

Cassian bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, fists held loose by his sides with the lightness of a male a quarter of his size.

You squinted. Is he… is he about to punch me? 

Cassian read the alarm on your face and grinned, hitting you with a tap gentler than rainfall. 

You snorted, but felt nothing. Perfect.

You had to be grateful for Cassian’s light-heartedness. He had the worry melting off your shoulders. With every limb that Rhys called out, Cassian would do a little dance before punching you or kicking you. At one point he even faked a blow to your face, spinning up to you before leaping into the air and shooting out his right leg. You didn’t flinch as his boot swung an inch away from your face. You could smell the rubber soles of his boots. 

“You missed,” you teased. 

Cassian pouted, turning around to walk back to the wall now that he was finished with his piece. Azriel looked ready to tear his head off his body. 

You’re lucky you missed. Azriel’s eyes screamed across the room. You’d be a dead man if you hurt her.

Cassian winked and blew him a kiss.

Feyre was next. You practiced brushing against her like you would do in a crowded street complete with the obligatory fumbling of apologies. 

“Oh good heavens.” Feyre fanned her face like the old, upper-class women in her village used to do and laid on that sickly sweet accent they all had. “I’m so dreadfully sorry.” — They never were. 

She shook your hand and touched your shoulders and looped her arm around your waist. That was the part that had you worried. You slid your power away from every inch of your skin, wrapped it up like a secret, and held it deepin your chest. 

“Good.” Rhysand smiled and Cassian punched the air. 

You breathed deeply and gave a small bow like you’d just finished a performance. But there was still one person you were meant to touch today, and they made you the most nervous of all.

Azriel stepped forward, a picture of calm. Inside, he was raging like a storm. He kept his hands firmly grasped behind his back, wings pressed so tightly he felt his shoulders start to ache. 

You took a step forward as well, tilting your head back to look at him. You felt the grip on your power falter when he held out his hand palm up like he was asking you for a dance. Months ago at the Summer Solstice ball you’d been approached by a number of males hoping for a song with their hands at your waist and at your shoulder. The prospect of that kind of touch had terrified you then, and it still terrified you now but for different reasons. Because this time, you wanted it. 

You wanted him.

You gently slid your hand into his, feeling the scars roll beneath your soft skin like the mountains that surrounded Velaris. Your breath caught in your throat, but before Azriel could rip his hand away you held on and squeezed reassuringly. 

You’d read hundreds, if not thousands, of romance novels in your time. You’d consumed them with a ravenous hunger, surviving on them when real touch felt like a hopeless dream and the loneliness became too much to bear. And in nearly every single one of them, the first touch between lovers was described as an explosion of color. A dangerous shaking of the world down to its foundations. A cataclysmic event. 

But you were surprised to find that they were wrong. They were all wrong. Azriel wasn’t destroying anything. He was mending. 

It felt like a re-centering. The shifting of a leaning tower so it stood upright again. 

A blissful silence. 

Azriel cradled your hand in his, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles. He couldn’t help what he did next, couldn’t have stopped himself even if Helion stood at his back with murder in his eyes. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your hand with such reverence, such tenderness, that you swore your heart was glowing in your chest.

“Why don’t you try a hug, Y/n?” Rhysand suggested when Azriel had straightened. “If you want.” 

You looked down at your feet where shadows swarmed, and then up at Azriel.

“What do you say, Y/n?” Azriel murmured softly. His words were for you and you only. “Where would you have me touch you?” His hazel eyes caught the light before scattering into a thousand brilliant colors. 

Wordlessly you ran your fingers down his arms, tracing the shape of the muscle beneath the leather. You held his hands and gently led them up to your waist, gasping when he made contact. His warm fingers brushed the exposed skin of your waist before sliding around to your back. 

You balanced on the tips of your toes, looping your arms around his neck before resting your face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. He smelled like leather and the mountains. Wind and rain and nightfall coalescing into something so uniquely him you could pick him out in a room of thousands with your eyes closed.

It started out as a loose, misshapen thing, your hands and his arms searching for the right grip to hold your bodies together. But once you found it, you were lost.

Azriel wrapped his arms around your back and waist, hands splayed out like he was absorbing you into him. And you were no better. You buried your face in his neck, lips pressed up against the curve of his throat so you could feel the rhythmic rush of blood through his veins. 

He refused to be the first to let go. The roof could cave in. The floor could drop out from beneath your feet. He would not let you go. 

Your tears started out slow, coupled by ragged, shallow breaths. 

“I’ve got you, Y/n,” Azriel whispered. “I’ve got you.”

How long had it been since you’d been held like this? A hundred years? Two hundred? You thought you’d learned to live without it, but now that it was yours you didn’t think you’d ever, ever be able to give it up. You were at the cliff’s edge now and without an ounce of hesitation you flung yourself over and into the abyss.

With Azriel, controlling your powers didn’t seem like such a difficult thing. Later that evening when you lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, you realized you hadn’t been thinking of control at all.

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Author's Note:

Y'all... THEY FINALLY TOUCHED EACH OTHER! And not only that, BUT HE KISSED HER HAND!!! And! They fucking HUGGED!!!!

[arcturustarlight]

I'm gonna be honest. I think (it's just a guess I'm not sure of myself) SJM wasn't actually quite sure who to pair Azriel with. He was obsessed with Mor for 500 years and during ACOMAF, the reader would get hints that Mor too, feels something anything for him despite everything.

Then we had Elain who their dynamic would be the pretty brother x pretty sister (some people need to wake up, Elain is NOT a quiet, shy, introverted damsel). She got some ideas, leading them out in ACOWAR but noticing how it didnt work and the mate that was wrong for Nesta was right for Elain.

When she plans a mate, she plans a HEA. Lucien was supposed to be Nesta's mate but given the fact that they would kill each other, she gave him to Elain.

I truly guess that after Gwyn entered the series and had interaction with Az, she was like let's gooooo. Like ACOSF was the best opportunity for the following book in the series and its love interest (aka, Az and his mate)

Morrigan was barely present in ACOSF, Elain and Az barely talked until the bonus chapter where the ship sank to the bottom of the ocean (where it belongs). Az has two bonus scenes and had hints with Gwyn (privet dagger handling, see you tomorrow, Shadowsinger, the shadow darted to dance with her breath, her smile glowing, a smile creeping to his lips. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.)

All the evidence leads to Az being the main character in the next book (thank fuck, he needs some development and therapy) with my beautiful, angelic Gwyn as his LI.