#azriel x you

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (6)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst, PINING

a/n: Sorryyyy for the wait <3 As a lot of you know I have been going through it lately, but I really enjoyed writing this and hope to post more immediately 🤜. Let me know what you think :))

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 4☼ Part 5 ☁

Series Masterlist

~~

Day Court was immeasurably beautiful—with all of its pristine columns reflecting orange light. Marble flooring shone with distorted images of acrylic brush strokes that hung on granite walls. Fountains billowed at the mouth of every doorway, sculpted fixtures at their bases. Warm wind kissed your skin and glistening waters welcomed you and Day Court was so incredibly beautiful. 

You were sure, if given the chance, you would think the same of its residents. 

Unfortunately, you were not given the chance to come to that conclusion. 

“The High Lord is in a meeting. He sends his apologies for not meeting you upon your arrival—the merchants of Day can get a bit rowdy,” the servant laughed. “I can show you to your rooms in the meantime.”

“Rooms?” Rhysand posed. You attempted to look over Azriel’s wing to gauge the conversation, but Cassian took another step to the side, halting your movement. 

“Yes, Helion informed us that the four of you would be here, so we prepared four rooms. If that’s not—”

“Three rooms will suffice, thank you,” your High Lord drawled. 

The servant squeaked, and you were sure if you could see her, her nerves would be evident. “Of—of course, High Lord. I assume Lady Y/n will be with—”

“We will deal with the division of our rooms on our own. Thank you…” 

“Amira,” the servant offered. “My name is Amira. I will be attending to you, Lady Y/n, during your time here.” 

You knocked your head to the side, brushing Cassian’s bicep as he stood beside you. You barely caught Amira’s mousey brown hair before the membrane of a wing flushed out and pushed you back. 

“She doesn’t need an attendant,” Azriel bit out, misplaced malice creating tension in the hall.

“Oh, it’s okay, I—” 

Apparently, not even your voice was allowed to be heard. Rhysand cut you off. “No attendant,” he confirmed, after sending his spymaster a sidelong glance laced with reproach. “No servants in our rooms, either. We are rather private, you understand.”

A pause. 

You wished you could see anyone’s expression. 

From beside you, Cassian offered you a pity smile, nudging you with his elbow in an act of comfort. 

“Anything you require,” Amira shakily responded. “Shall I walk you back, then? Just to show you where you will be staying?” 

“Lead the way.” 

Azriel immediately stepped back, his shadows scrambling past him to enclose you in dim light. You felt his presence, firm and tall, looming at your back as you took the first few steps down the hall. 

This all felt entirely misplaced, with the bleakness of your group extinguishing some of the vibrance of the court you walked through. Cassian kept close to your side, some of Azriel’s shadows drifting off and cloaking the red glow on his hands and chest. Rhys, ever the High Lord, took up the front, footsteps light but purposeful. 

Everyone looked grim. 

Except for you. 

This court held no negative connotations for you, no malicious undertones that impacted the rest of your family. It was simply beautiful, and your family was simply cloistering you. 

But you agreed to this; anything to make them feel better. 

To make Azriel feel better. 

You turned your head to the side as you walked, catching the shadowsinger in your peripheral. Tense, on-guard, unyielding; Azriel’s jaw was set in a firm clench, but it was different from what you were used to. When he was tense at home, it was almost out of… anticipation? Trepidation? 

Here though… here his posture was derived from rage. From practiced, honed fury. 

You turned your head away before you attempted to fix it, to comfort him. He wanted to be angry, told you as much before he winnowed you to Day in a flurry of his shadows. 

I’m going to be different, he had told you, I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt. 

The fear in his eyes had melted away in the Day Court sun; the second your feet landed on meticulously carved cobblestone, Azriel was no longer just your friend. 

Amira led you to three doors along a wall, mumbled a few parting words, and bowed away before anyone could send her a second glance. You attempted to offer her a reassuring smile amidst her flee, but Azriel’s shadows were too dense. A hand on your back led you into a room and Amira was gone. 

“That went well,” Cassian breathed, a long sigh punctuating his descent into a loveseat by the bed. “She didn’t look terrified at all.” 

The bedroom door clicked shut. Rhys raised his brows. “She’ll thank us later.” The High Lord’s eyes drifted to the shadowsinger sulking by your side. “This isn’t exactly a leisurely visit.” 

Your gaze shot around the room in the following lapse of silence, analyzing the tense nature of each male. The air felt stagnant and stiff, the light somehow dimmer even with the open windows, and you weren’t sure if your voice would make it worse or ease some of the pressing emotions. 

Rhys took a seat in a chair by the door, and you decided speaking was better than leaning into the uncomfortable silence. 

“It’s so beautiful here,” you began, playing with your fingers, second-guessing your decision to stand. Azriel remained motionless at your side. “The sun feels different somehow. Brighter, maybe?” 

“The skies have an affinity for their namesake in the solar courts,” Rhys offered kindly. 

You hummed, rolling onto your toes and then rocking back on your heels. “I suppose that makes sense. The nights are incredible back home.” 

The use of that word—home—did not go unnoticed by the group. Not by you and certainly not by the male standing guard at your side. The replacement of the word had been relatively common since you woke up. 

Here in Velaris, there is…. 

When you came back here all those years ago…

Let’s go back to the house…

Never home.

But being in Day—being away from Velaris—just solidified what you already assumed. Velaris was your home. You were sick of letting your family dance around that truth. 

~~

“Mother above, I was sure I would never see you again,” a strange voice tore your attention from Cassian’s vivid retelling of your first time flying with him, and although it was an interesting story, the man before you was even more enticing. 

With deep skin and an even deeper smile, white linen billowed around his confident figure. The man appeared to glisten as he walked toward your small group, golden sandals trailing up bronze calves. Even the air around him seemed to glow. 

Enticing didn’t seem to be the correct word. 

You’d been directed into a rather large study after a brief lunch and a “tour” of the grounds that only included the wing you were staying in. Rhys had chalked it up to Helion stalling for time. You’d tried to coax a more comprehensive tour out of the guard leading you around, but a sharp look from Azriel was enough to put that conversation to rest. 

“You look just as you did. Perhaps a bit gaunt but…” The man—Helion, you’d deduced—trailed off when the whisper of a shadow trailed at his neck. “I am Helion,” he smiled. “You have known me for many years. In love with me, as most are. But, alas, it is not fated.” 

Some of your awe shifted to shock. “I am—I’m sorry, I am in love with you?” 

In front of you, Cassian let out a long breath and fanned his wings out before letting them hang behind his chair. You sat straighter in your own seat, mortification creeping into your chest at the small laugh Rhys let slip across the room. What set your mouth into its flurry, however, was the raised brow you received from Helion. 

“I didn’t mean that to offend. I mean—what I meant was just that… Well, no one said I had a lover or even mentioned you in that way so it came as a shock. But I presume there is much about myself I have yet to learn so… you are a very beautiful man and I’m sure—” 

“Y/n, it’s alright,” came Azriel’s soothing voice from beside you, his scarred fingers pushing hair behind your ear halting your apologies. “He was only joking.” A pointed look in the High Lord’s direction. “He does that from time to time, unfortunately.” 

More mortification made an appearance. 

“Oh.” 

Helion’s raised brow had morphed into an unsure expression at some point amidst your rambling. “When they said you had no memory… You will have to excuse me, y/n. I assumed you’d have more… context. Especially with your abilities.” 

“We told you she remembered nothing and had no access to her magic,” Azriel defended, his fingers dropping to rest beside your thighs. 

“Well, yes, but often when magic tampers with the mind, the personality remains intact. Like a muscle memory.” 

“Oh, her personality is there,” Cassian retorted, a bittersweet smirk playing at his lips. “Just not when she’s met you five seconds ago and you’re revealing fake truths. Sarcasm doesn’t often work with strangers.” 

Helion nodded grimly, turning back to you. “I apologize.” 

“It’s really alright,” you comforted, attempting to calm some of the twisted guilt marring the High Lord’s face. “They worry too much. Right now everything I do is without context and I find myself embarrassed more often than not. It’s not your fault.” 

Helion did not look convinced or reassured. His eyes simply traveled to the corners of your face and tracked down to the patterns Azriel was drawing into the skirts of your dress. 

“Do you see now why we needed to come to you,” Rhys chimed in from above his crossed arms. 

Helion hummed. “Yes. Shall I get started then?” 

The room shuffled. You were informed that Helion had to be touching your head to assess the injury—unlike Rhys’s assessment—so you were sat atop a table to give him better access. Azriel followed by your side, his front pressed against the table, Cassian stood his ground behind Helion, and Rhys took up residence on your other side. 

“In Day, we have a type of healing that extends to magical wards and enchantments, was that explained to you?” Helion asked, kind eyes never leaving yours. Too kind—uncertain and full of reproach.

“Yes, they said maybe the witch put something in my mind. Like a blockage.” 

“Precisely. And I was informed about Rhysand’s unsuccessful attempt at entering your mind. That could be due to a spell, which is why I would be more useful.”

Rhys scoffed. 

You let a smile tug at your lips, but it was quickly extinguished when you considered the outcome of this process. “Will it feel the same? What you’re doing and what Rhys did?” 

You could almost hear the way Azriel ground his jaw. 

Helion glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “It will feel different. I am not in the business of thoughts or memories. I won’t be able to access anything other than any inflictions you may have.” 

“So it won’t hurt?” 

“I cannot promise anything.” 

The table beneath you shifted an inch, just to be caught by hands glowing with blue light.

I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt.

“Still sure you can’t just beat the crap out of whatever’s going on in my head?” you posed to Cassian, tilting your head up to call over Helion’s shoulder. 

The general’s chuckle eased some of the tension in the room. “I would if I could.” 

“Promise?” 

“Always.” 

With a resigned breath, you nodded to Helion. The High Lord’s hands glowed a golden white, he lifted them to your head, and then there was nothing. 

~~

Azriel

If he hadn’t shot his hand out when he did, Azriel was sure your head would have fallen out of Helion’s grasp and plummeted to the floor. 

You were limp. 

Eyes closed, neck bent—completely and utterly limp. 

Azriel took the liberty of tugging on the bond just to make sure you were still alive. He hadn’t done so since you woke up in the forest, remembering the fear in your eyes, but you looked so incredibly lifeless. 

“Helion,” he barked, his worried expression never turning from your face. 

Icy panic gripped his stomach, twisting it with fervor. 

Cassian took a step forward. 

“Why is she unconscious?” his brother gritted out. His tone was an empty threat; he couldn’t hurt a High Lord, and neither could Azriel, but Azriel would do much more for much less. 

His life had become a nightmare. 

Literally. 

On his worst nights, he relived the time you went missing and the subsequent loss of your memories over and over until he woke up screaming. His heart would beat so rapidly it seemed impossible to slow and he would be inconsolable for several minutes, but he always had you there. He would wake up from that nightmare and you would be there. 

He had that dream every night now, and he woke up to the same. The guestroom he occupied didn’t smell like you, and even though you were just on the other side of the wall, he couldn’t make out the sound of your breath enough to let it lull him back to sleep. Nothing you owned was in that room. Everything he owned was still in a pile by the door after Feyre had rushed to clear the evidence of him from your space. But why did that matter? What were books and trinkets and clothes in a room that was otherwise devoid of everything he loved? 

Leaving his room was worse. 

Gods, all he wanted to do was hold you. To really, truly hold you and for you to hold him back. But you looked at him cordially, the same way you looked at Cassian and Rhysand and Mor. 

When he left the house he had to deal with Feyre and Nesta’s constant questioning. Even Amren had taken an interest in your well-being, and while he appreciated the care for his mate, he couldn’t take it. 

He couldn’t take echoing the words, “She’s fine. Healthy. Less pain today,” over and over when he could tell what they really wanted to know were things you wouldn’t share with him. He couldn’t take the fact that you didn’t tell him you loved him—that he would whisper it at your back every time you turned around and you never heard. You were skittish at his touch and shy when you spoke and you were never the first to voice your opinion and he just couldn’t take it. 

With your head in his broken hand, Azriel felt another piece of him crack. 

“I did it.” Rhys broke the silence, a concentration twisting his brow. “Helion and I agreed it was the best way to go about this. It had to be sudden though—unexpected. We needed a moment where her mind was completely unexpecting.”

Cassian cursed. “You couldn’t have told us that before you made it look like she died, Rhysand?” 

“If y/n were dead no one would be standing here right now and you know that.” 

“Still,” Cassian mumbled. “Warn a guy.” 

“I’ve felt this before,” Helion said, shaking his head. “But that’s impossible. Rhysand, you would have—” 

“I would have, yes, but not if it was created through other means. It was a witch, not a daemati.” 

“She could have been both.” 

“Extremely unlikely. Keep going.” 

Azriel watched the way your lashes fluttered, counted the beats of your heart and pretended you knew who he was. 

“What’s happening?” he asked. “You’re both in her head. Talk.” 

“I couldn’t get through the wall myself because it wasn’t her magic,” Rhys explained. “I assumed it was the witch’s, but this signature is too similar. It’s exactly like it was before, just muted.” 

“Like it was before?” Azriel repeated, finally turning his head up. 

Rhysand looked grim. “Almost identical.” 

“That isn’t possible,” the shadowsinger immediately refuted. “I killed that bastard myself. There is no way he could have done anything to her.” 

“Azriel, I think it’s possible that—” 

But Azriel did not let the High Lord of Day finish his thought. “You don’t speak to me about her,” he seethed. “Not when she came to your court and one of your people did this to her. I trusted you with her. I sent my mate here and she has been paying the price for that ever since. This is your fault, so you do not tell me what you think. You tell me what is certain.”

The room went silent, and Helion looked back at you, eyes glazing as he continued his work. 

A strong, steady hand clapped against Azriel’s shoulder. It took Cassian three tugs before Azriel reluctantly let your head go, but only after Rhysand placed his own hand at your back. 

“Look, I get it,” Cassian comforted, hands on his brother's arms. “If this was Nesta I’d probably be tearing this room apart right now. But he’s all we have here. And you know it wasn’t his fault last time. You remember how hard he worked to get her back.” 

Azriel ignored him.

Cassian roughly shook his frame. 

“Hey, you know that. And you know y/n’s going to be pissed at you when she gets her memories back and hears how much of an ass you’re being to Helion. She’s going to be severely pissed if you start a war trying to kill the guy.” 

“If.”

The small smile Cassian was sporting faltered. “What?” 

Azriel finally met his eyes. “If she gets her memories back. It was an if last time and it’s an if again.” 

The two High Lords discussed quietly in the back, their hands still on you. Azriel’s shadows refused to leave your side, weaving through your hair and your clothes and the fingers against your head. 

“Well last time she got them back, didn’t she?” 

“You truly believe that will happen twice? I was praying to the mother for luck the first time, Cassian. She won’t listen again. I guarantee she won’t.” 

“Az…” Cassian trailed off. There was no speech to formulate, not when defeat and resolution were so clear on his brother’s face. 

“She won’t love me a third time.” 

Your cough had Azriel bolting away from his brother’s concerned gaze in an instant. You were no longer in Helion’s grasp, instead leaning against Rhysand’s arm as the High Lord of Day scribbled something in a book.

“Ow.” You rubbed at your head with a pinched expression, squinting up at Azriel as he leaned down. “I think I passed out or something.” 

It was mostly out of hysterics, but a small laugh escaped the spymaster. “Or something.” 

Gods, you sent a spark of joy down the bond and it was all-consuming. You did that from time to time, unintentionally flooding Azriel with whatever emotion you felt the strongest. More than once he had to stop himself from opening his side completely just to relish in the reminisce you offered him. 

“What about this time? Did we figure it out?” you slurred, squeezing your eyes open just to have the drop closed once again. 

Azriel tucked his hand against the back of your head and looked expectantly at the two High Lords before him. 

When Helion spoke, Azriel let him, if only because he was still living on the high of his mate’s lingering amusement. “Whatever the witch did, it was a mimicry of the daemati that tore into her head all those years ago. I need to do more research, see if I am able to undo whatever it is she redid without irreparably damaging her mind. If I can’t, the only answer is the witch.” 

“Is that even possible? To mimic something like that?” Azriel asked, stepping forward so your drooping head would fall against his arm. 

“Witches draw power beyond their reserve and even beyond the cauldron. We know so little about them. Tamlin should not have been making deals with them,” Helion curtly replied. 

Any lightness in the room had very clearly disappeared. 

“Take your mate back to your room. We can discuss this when she no longer looks like she’s fighting to stay awake.” 

“I am awake,” you argued, trying and failing to haul yourself into an upright position. 

Rhysand huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t even be awake after having two high lords in my mind. Go rest. We will talk in the morning.” 

Azriel assisted as you stood on unsteady legs, but the attempt was futile. The shadowsinger gathered you into his arms as you sent an accusatory finger in Rhysand’s direction. “Liar.” 

It wasn’t until you were alone in the hallway, your head against Azriel’s shoulder, his arms beneath your body, that you spoke again.

“Azriel?” 

He hummed in response. 

“What’s a mate?”

[shadowdaddies]

I Need You Most

Azriel x Reader angst → smut

for this request

warnings: smut below the cut, light bondage, shadow play, masturbation, p in v sex, oral f!receiving

You stormed into the bedroom, not bothering to hold the door open for Azriel who trailed closely behind. Practically ripping the shoes from your feet, you tossed them in the closet and reached around to loosen the ties on your dress.

Scarred hands gently covered yours. “Let me help,” your mate murmured, pulling the strings on the corset that you couldn’t reach. 

Before he could loosen the ties any further, you whipped around, face flushed red with anger. “Do not touch me right now,” you seethed, maneuvering around him back into the bedroom. Ignoring the awkward feeling of your half-done corset, you grabbed the book from your bedside table and moved to sit in one of the chairs by the hearth. 

Azriel slowly walked out of the closet, ever the cautious and assessing spymaster as he watched your movements with interest. Once you had taken your seat, he sat in the chair opposite you, hazel eyes burning into your skin as you struggled to focus on the pages in front of you.

“My love, can you tell me what’s wrong?” Az pressed gently, leaning forward with strong arms braced on his knees. 

Forcing yourself to bite back a bitter laugh at the question, you took a deep breath and set the book down. “You really don’t know why I might be upset, Azriel?” At his confused expression, you continued, “It seems as though you have a talent for noticing everything except me.”

Azriel’s eyes simmered with barely constrained anger at your digging comment. “If you would care to stop speaking in riddles and be straightforward with me, that would be much appreciated. I may be observant, but I am not daemati, love. I cannot read your mind.”

Shadows grew darker around Azriel, oscillating with the palpable irritation in the room. But instead of sticking to their master, they moved to join you. Cool whisps of darkness curled around you, giving cool caress to your heated skin as Azriel watched, guilt suddenly registering on his face. He knew that if his shadows were on your side, he was truly in the wrong.

“I’m sorry, angel. Please just tell me what is wrong so I can make it right.”

You relaxed slightly at his apology, tension thinning as you studied your mate’s worried expression. “You are away so often, Az, and I knew that would be the case when I accepted the mating bond. I love you for who you are, and I wouldn’t want to change that. But it’s hard for me when you leave me, and then hardly notice me when you are here.”

Azriel loosed a soft sigh, understanding exactly what you meant. It was a conversation you’d had before, that you sometimes felt second to his spymaster duties. He’d been working hard to show you that that wasn’t true, but coming home from this last mission was too exhausted to notice how much you needed him.

“You don’t understand how much I miss you. I think I need you more than you need me, and I feel pathetic for it, Az,” you admitted.

Azriel’s face fell, the Illyrian leaving his chair only to kneel in front of you, eyes pleading as warm hands rested on your knees. “I need you. Like air, I need you. I don’t know how I lived before you, and I’m sorry that I make you feel anything less than the beautiful, perfect mate that you are.”

You could feel Azriel’s love through the bond, pure adoration and longing sending electric sparks through you, at odds with his warm touch on your thighs, where you hadn’t felt him in so long. 

Suddenly, your face was flushed with a different kind of heat, and Az’s eyes darkened as the scent of your arousal grew. A knowing smirk stretched across his lips, the crooked smile showing off one dimple. 

“You beautiful, cruel female. You like when I’m on my knees for you?” he purred, voice rough as his hands slipped further between your thighs. 

You fought to keep your breaths even, eyes flicking to the chair where Azriel sat moments ago. “My love, I adore when you are on your knees, but I still don’t think you understand how badly I needed you today,” you teased, the sentence taking on a different meaning with your sultry tone that shot straight to Azriel’s cock.

Curling one finger beneath his chin, you lifted in gentle encouragement for him to stand before nodding towards his chair. “Sit, Azriel.”

As though the shadows could read your thoughts, they followed Azriel to the chair, twining around his wrists and ankles. Hazel eyes were blown so wide they appeared black, the scent of your mate’s arousal so strong it was dizzying. 

“I missed you,” you whispered, standing from your seat and dropping your corset in one smooth motion. The fabric was tossed to the side, your hands pulling at the sleeves of your chemise. “I missed your touch, your warmth,” you continued, the remainder of your clothing falling in a pool at your feet.

Azriel’s breathing grew rapid, chest heaving as his hardened cock strained against his pants. “I needed you, but you stayed just out of reach, teasing and taunting me,” you drawled as you relaxed back into your own chair, eyes on Azriel as you hiked one leg over the arm of the seat, baring your glistening pussy to him.

He audibly groaned at the sight, pulling helplessly against his shadows as they stayed secure to the furniture. “Please, my love. Let me take care of you,” he gritted out, eyes glassy with desire.

Humming nonchalantly, you allowed your hands to wander over your body, fingers skating delicate touches over your sensitive areas. “You may take care of me once I think you’ve learned what it feels like to need me, to be truly desperate for my touch,” you replied, flashing him a wild grin as you dipped a finger into your entrance.

Pulling out your finger, you held it up to show off your slick in the firelight, eyes fixed on his reaction when you slipped the digit into your mouth, moaning dramatically as you sucked it clean. Releasing your finger with a ‘pop,’ you slid the wet hand down your body, toying with your nipples before resting above your core.

“This is what I do when you are not here to pleasure me, Azriel,” you breathed, gathering wetness on your fingers as they found your clit, rubbing slow circles there. 

“I use my fingers,” you continued, thrusting two fingers inside of you with a moan, “and I pretend they’re yours. I pretend it’s you, hitting that perfect spot inside of me.” Curling your fingers towards that spot, you moaned Azriel’s name, bucking your hips as you shamelessly chased your high in front of him. 

You heard him grunting and groaning in his seat, his need for you only turning you on more, which he seemed to realize. “Good girl. Move your fingers a little faster, just like that. Can you rub your clit for me?” he breathed, in awe as you obeyed his commands, letting him guide you to your orgasm.

Your eyes flew open as you crashed into your high, body writhing against the sofa when you looked to Azriel, jaw dropping in ecstasy while he watched you with a white knuckle grip against the restraints. 

Breathless, you relaxed into the cushions, a lazy smile on your features. “That is how desperate, how needy I am for you,” you whispered. 

“But it’s never the same. I crave your touch, your love,” you confessed, bare body shining with a thin sheen of sweat as you moved to stand just out of Azriel’s reach. “It’s a delicious torture, this power you have over me - at least when you’re there for me when I need you. Does that make sense?”

Azriel swallowed thickly, hips rolling in any attempt at relief. “Yes, it does. I need you, too, love. To take care of you, to touch you, to love you.” He strained again against his unrelenting shadows, and you smirked at the tendrils of darkness and their loyalty to you. “Let me touch you, please,” his hoarse voice begged.

“Not quite yet, Az. Soon enough,” you promised, moving to straddle his lap, body pressed firm against his. “I want to take advantage of this moment,” you admitted, fingers threading through onyx locks to pull him in for a passionate kiss.

Starting soft and slow, the kiss quickly grew frantic into a clash of teeth and tongues, bodies desperately writhing against each other in search of friction. Your lips left his, trailing down his jaw - kissing, biting, licking the skin along his neck. Hands quickly unbuttoned his shirt, new wetness pooling between your thighs at the sight of his toned chest.

“Fuck,” Azriel gritted out, cock twitching from the feeling of your slick soaking through his pants. You smirked, kissing down his chest until you arrived at the waistband of his pants, kissing along the lines of his muscles there.

“Up,” you murmured, Azriel obeying to lift his hips so you could slide his pants down, his leaking cock hitting his stomach as he groaned in relief. 

Straddling the Illyrian once more, your fingertips brushed teasing strokes along his cock as he cursed and pleaded incoherently. “I love you,” you whispered, rubbing his tip against your folds before sliding down his length, your moans swallowed by his lips on yours.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he muttered, hips thrusting up to meet you as you bounced on his dick. Rolling your hips forward and back, you felt him hit every inch of you with each thrust. 

The pleasure was too much, legs growing shaky as you grew weak above him. Shadows sensing the shift, they released their master, Azriel wasting no time before grabbing your hips and jackhammering up into you.

Limp, your head feel against his shoulder as you took everything he gave you, nails scratching his back and torso as you hit another orgasm. 

Azriel’s thrusts grew sloppier, his breathing hard in your ear when you felt him twitch inside of you, his warmth filling you up as he came. 

“I missed that,” you muttered, shifting to press a kiss to his shoulder where your head had been resting. 

“Oh, this night is far from over, love,” Azriel purred, hand sliding under your ass as he picked you up and walked to the bed. Tossing you onto the sheets, he quickly grabbed your thighs, warm hands running along the sensitive skin. “I wanted to worship you, and I will until you are begging me to stop,” he growled, shadows twining around your wrists to pull them taut over your head.

A shiver of delight coursed through you, squirming under your mate’s hold as you prepared yourself for a long night. 

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unrequited Love

A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.

Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel. I’m thinking of making this like a mini series but idk who reader would end up with. (Let me know if you have any suggestions!)

Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.

Warnings: none

WC-1.4K

————————————————————————

My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.

“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”

His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.

“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.

“So this new book I’m reading…”

“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.

“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.

“What?”

“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”

His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.

“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.

The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.

“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.

“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”

“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.

“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”

My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.

“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”

Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.

“Wait-“

“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.

“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”

When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.

“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.

“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”

He gasped at my words cutting me off

“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.

“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side

“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.

“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”

He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.

“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.

I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has

been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”

“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”

I walked out of that room with my head held high

[flickering-chandelier]

I Heard Your Voice in a Dream

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader’s village in the Spring Court is destroyed by Hybern (F U Tampon), and she is on her own until Azriel finds her. She feels instantly connected to him, but is not sure why, until one morning when he tells her everything.

(Also my first attempt at duel POV)

Warnings: a smutty ending

Word Count: 6.4k

You were running for your life when Azriel found you. 

After the High Lord of the Spring Court made a deal with the devil to bring back his love that fled from him, life looked much different for you. 

Hybern had attacked your village, destroyed your home and everything you had ever known. Your High Lord was nowhere to be found. Most of the people you knew didn’t make it out. Somehow, you had, but you couldn’t help but wonder… at what cost?

You spent your time wandering the endless green spring, not sure what to do. You had missed the evacuation. Nobody knew you were injured or where you were. By the time you were well enough to walk, you were alone. 

The panic was made worse by the fact that you knew what was in these lands -- monsters that you had no hope of beating should they target you. 

And eventually, they did target you. 

You weren’t sure what kind of creature it was -- just knew that those teeth could rip you to shreds and you wouldn’t be able to outrun it for long. 

But you did run, because what other choice did you have? You ran and ran, not daring to look back. You could hear it gaining on you with every step, until you felt, more than heard, the ground shaking beneath you. 

Suddenly, it was silent, the terrible feet of the monster no longer sounding behind you. You risked a glance back, and saw who must have been a warrior, with enormous black wings spread behind him, wiping off his bloody blade on the grass next to the carcass of the beast.

You stopped running, turning around slowly, studying him as he looked up at you. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen, with dark black hair and a completely stoic face, giving away absolutely nothing about what he was thinking. The hard lines of that face terrified you as much as they intrigued you. You realized you were shaking as he walked toward you slowly, as if approaching an injured animal. He was wearing some kind of armor -- all black, with gleaming, glowing circles attached to several points of his body. There were dark tendrils of what looked like smoke circling his arms, his hands. He sheathed his gleaming black blade as he approached you. 

He held his hands out, severely scarred, you noticed, palms facing you as he got closer. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” His deep, commanding voice seemed to echo through the now quiet woods.

You couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t bring your voice to speak.

“What’s your name?” he said softly when he stopped a few feet from you.

You told him, your voice barely above a whisper.

The warrior repeated your name quietly, his hazel eyes softening, then said “I’m Azriel. Are you hurt?”

“I-- I don’t think so.”

Azriel nodded, his eyes scanning your body, as if to confirm it. “What are you doing out here alone?”

You couldn’t help but think that the soft, gentle voice he was now using with you was such a juxtaposition to the fierceness of his armor, his no doubt rock solid body, his massive wings. “I have nowhere to go,” you finally choked out.

His brow furrowed, his eyes swimming with emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Your family?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. The expression on your face seemed to say enough. His jaw tightened as he swallowed.

“Your home?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Destroyed,” you whispered.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, his expression softening as he studied your face. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head, but you couldn’t imagine what he was contemplating. 

“Thank you,” you croaked out eventually. “For saving my life.”

You turned to go, not wanting to inconvenience him further, but his hand grasped your wrist. As you turned around, you noticed his demeanor had completely changed. He staggered back a step, still holding onto you, pulling you forward a bit. Where before he was confident and calming, his eyes were now wide, his mouth open in what could only be shock.

“What is it?” you asked.

Azriel shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. “Come with me.”

You didn’t try to hide your surprise. “You don’t have to do that, I’ll manage.”

He moved his grip from your wrist to your hand, holding it carefully in his, as he gazed at your face, his eyes pleading. “You won’t survive out here. My home -- it’s safe. You’ll be safe.”

Contemplating this, you tried to weigh your options. You knew he was right, that you wouldn’t make it for much longer alone out here. You could try to make it to another court, but how long would that take? And what would happen to you if you got there? But, his home, the one he claimed was safe… you had never seen anyone like him before. Never seen anyone as intimidating. Finally, you asked. “Who… are you?”

His cheeks dusted red as he seemed to grapple for the right words. “I work for the High Lord of the Night Court,” he said carefully.

Unconsciously, you took a step back, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Azriel’s eyes flared. If you didn’t know better you would think it was panic. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice steady despite his body language.

“The Night Court?” you felt your heart beating faster. Why did your savior have to be from there, of all places? The only thing worse than these woods would be the Court of Nightmares, where not just the High Lord, but the people were brutal and malicious.

“If you just saw it, you would understand,” he said, taking a careful step towards you again. “I will keep you safe, I swear it.” His eyes remained pleading in a way that you couldn’t comprehend.

“Why?” you asked, trying to make sense of this warrior before you. “Why do you care so much?”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. Finally, he said with all the sincerity in the world, “I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you here.”

You sighed, trying to think. As if reading your thoughts he said, “You either trust me or be eaten by something out here.”

He was right. You knew he was. Still, you couldn’t stop the fear that lodged in your throat as you turned back to him and said resignedly, “Okay. Take me with you.”

---

Azriel tried to keep his breathing steady as the two of you made it to the townhouse in Velaris. He knew he would have a lot of explaining to do. 

He watched your eyes widen as you took in the sight around you. Children laughing, people walking and talking, seemingly without a care in the world. A bustling city nestled between the mountains of the Night Court. 

“Where… are we?” you asked. Your voice had not yet risen to a normal volume in the short time that he had known you.

Azriel didn’t know how much to tell you. He would likely already be in hot water just for bringing you here. “The Night Court,” he said, trying to keep his voice bland. “Sort of.”

You gaped at him. 

Azriel winced as you neared the front door. “I hate to do this. But, I need you to wait out here.”

Your eyes only widened. “You’re going to leave me?” 

His heart cracked a bit at your words. “It should only be a few minutes. I told you, it’s safe here.”

You scowled, crossing your arms, but finally said, “Okay.”

Azriel nodded once, took a deep breath, and walked inside. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhysand were all in the living room. Rhys was laughing at something Feyre said. All eyes looked to you as you stepped into the threshold. 

“You’re back early,” Rhys said.

“I need to talk to you,” Azriel said to Rhysand, his voice sounding off, even to his own ears. “Alone.”

The others looked between the two of you curiously. Rhysand rose, masking his surprise, and gestured to his study.

When they were alone, Azriel didn’t know what to say, how to start. Finally, Rhysand had to say “What’s going on, Az?”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “When I got to the Spring Court, there was a woman. Running through the woods, from a bogge.”

“Okay,” Rhys drawled.

“I saved her, obviously. But, Rhys, you should have seen her. She was terrified and alone. I think she’s from the village that Hybern attacked.” 

Rhysand raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Azriel held his gaze. “She’s my mate, Rhys.”

The High Lord swore. “You brought her here, didn’t you?”

“What was I supposed to do? She would’ve died out there.”

Rhysand nodded, processing the information. “It was a risk, bringing her here.”

“I know it was,” Azriel said, unwilling to apologize, not for saving his mate’s life.

Despite the danger Azriel had put them in, Rhysand smiled at his brother. “You found your mate.”

Azriel nodded. He hadn’t really processed the information yet.

“Does she know?” Rhys asked.

“No. She’s going through enough right now.”

Rhysand nodded again. “Just be careful. You know how it went when Feyre found out before I told her.”

“I know.” 

“So,” Rhys said, leaning against his desk. “I guess we let her stay in the House of Wind. She can find her own place later, if she wants.”

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Really.” 

---

True to his word, Azriel was back a few minutes later. You were still shocked, trying to make sense of the day. How could this place be a part of the Night Court?

“I can take you to your room now, if you’re ready,” he said by way of greeting. 

“My room?” What, in his house? 

“Unless you want a tour of the city first? I figured you’d be tired,” he said naturally, as if he were speaking about the weather. 

You couldn’t help but gawk at him. “I get a room?”

“Yes,” he said, as if it were obvious.

“Okay,” you said cautiously. “Sure, let’s go to… my room.”

He cleared his throat, taking a tentative step toward you. “We’ll have to fly.”

You just blinked at him. Surely, he didn’t mean…?

He motioned toward you. “May I?”

Resolved, you said, “At this point, why not?” 

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before carefully, he swept you up in his arms, glancing at your face before flapping his mighty wings, taking the two of you up over the city, toward a large mountain.

You clung to him, your stomach twisting in knots, until he landed gently on a balcony on the top of the mountain.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he set you on the ground.

You nodded, looking past him into the formal dining room inside. “Where are we?”

“This is one of the High Lord’s residences in the city. He doesn’t really stay here with us,” he said, opening the door and leading you inside. 

“Us?”

“Me and a few others that you’ll meet. His inner circle.”

Again, you felt that fear spike through your body. The High Lord of the Night Court. His inner circle. What had you gotten yourself into?

As if sensing your fear, he stopped and faced you, looking at you intently. “The stories you’ve heard… they’re not real. At least, not in the context that you think.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to form a response. But, surprisingly, you wanted to trust him, this man who saved your life. 

When he realized that you weren’t going to say anything, he cocked his head, motioning for you to follow him through the house. You silently obeyed, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty hallways. 

Finally, he stopped before a room, shouldering the door open and gesturing for you to step inside first. It was more lavish than any room you’d seen in your village in the Spring Court. The four poster bed was huge in the center of the room. To the right was a sitting area with two chairs and a couch, cozy looking rugs, and through an open door you could see a washroom. It was more inviting than you had expected. 

“Will this be alright?” Azriel asked as you surveyed the room.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, this should be just fine.”

He smiled faintly. “I’m just a few doors down, if you need anything.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, for the second time that day.

Hesitating by the door, he said, “I thought you’d like some time to unwind. I imagine it’s been quite a day for you.”

You nodded, but couldn’t help the pang you felt at being left alone again. Azriel was starting to feel like all you had in the world. 

After studying you for a beat, he said, “I can come back in an hour? Give you some time to settle in?”

You couldn’t stop the small smi']le that tugged at your lips. “Okay.”

---

An hour later, Azriel was knocking on your door, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. This morning, he was leaving for the Spring Court to check on how Tamlin had been handling things, and now his mate was staying a few doors down, with no idea where she was or anything about him. 

The breath was knocked right out of him as you opened the door. You had changed into leggings and a sweater, the shape of your legs on full display, your hair, slightly damp, was falling loose in ringlets over your shoulders. 

An angel, he thought. You looked like an angel. 

“I’m glad you gave me that hour,” you admitted, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel felt faint. “I haven’t had a real bath in ages.”

Clarity struck his brain again at the reminder of what you had been through, how you had been living since the attack on your home. His heart ached for you. He wanted to rip Hybern apart with his bare hands.

“Do you want the tour?” he asked, dumbly, trying to stomp down his emotions,

You agreed, and he led you through the halls, the tug in his chest dazing him. He ached to reach for your hand, to bring your body into his. How had Rhys endured all that time with Feyre, feeling like this?

As you walked through the house, you started asking questions, and Azriel answered to the best of his ability. He told you about Velaris, how secret it was, why it had been kept a secret. The Court of Nightmares, the lies they had to spin. He explained that he was the Night Court’s spymaster, explained his shadows, his shadowsinger abilities, his wings. He didn’t give a ton of details, not wanting to overwhelm you, but not wanting to lie either.

You told him of your past, too. Of your life with your family before Hybern, your cottage, your friends. None of them had survived the attack. Azriel clenched his fists as you spoke, marveling at how kind and reserved you were, despite the horrors that you had been through.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the direction of the dining room and he winced. He would have to bring you to dinner, to face the entire group. Azriel knew that Rhys had relayed the information by now about his… guest. That was why they had all insisted on coming to dinner, to scope you out.

He felt guilty about keeping you out of the loop, that everyone would know that you were his mate. But you knew how much pressure could be put on females to give into their mates. He would never do that to you, he wanted you to have a choice. 

He would just have to wait until you were settled, until you knew that you were safe with him. 

You looked at him questioningly, and he simply said, “Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner.” 

“Dinner…” you trailed off, a question in your eyes.

“With everyone. Yeah.”

Your eyes widened and he couldn’t help himself. He took your hand in his like he did in the woods, what had made the bond snap into place. “It’ll be okay. They’re good people.”

You looked skeptical, but nodded, moving a bit closer to him. He swore he felt his heart miss a beat. 

Azriel led you to the dining room, still holding your hand. At the threshold of the room, you dropped his hand and stood behind him, peaking around his shoulder at the loud group. He could tell you were frightened, and wanted desperately to hold you, to take the fear away.

He cleared his throat, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked at his friends sternly, willing them to behave, at least for tonight, before he introduced you to them. 

You remained behind him, creeping out the littlest bit, placing your hand gently on his bicep. He looked back at you, trying to calm you down like he had in the woods. 

“Come on,” he murmured, lightly placing his hand on your arm and guiding you to your seat. You followed, your body taut. 

Azriel introduced you to Cassian, Mor, Elain, Nesta, and Amren. You stayed silent, wide eyed, no doubt realizing the power in the people around you. Finally, he gestured to Rhys and Feyre. “And this is the High Lord and Lady.”

Your eyes widened further then, taking in Feyre. “High Lady,” you murmured, in awe. 

Right. The High Lady. Feyre was the one who had tore the Spring Court apart from the inside out. Azriel hadn’t even thought of that, and watched your reaction. 

Feyre smiled at you kindly and Rhys looked extremely proud. “Honestly, that… that’s amazing. A High Lady,” you repeated. Azriel let out the breath he was holding.

“We sure think so,” Rhys smirked, his eyes sliding warmly to Feyre.

Azriel could feel some of the tension leave your body, and he nearly slumped with relief. 

Your reaction seemed to please his friends, too. Azriel couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. 

Throughout the course of dinner, you had remained silent, your doe eyes taking in everything before you. Azriel was hyper aware of you beside him, trying to sense your every reaction. 

After dinner, Azriel walked you back to your room, pausing at the door. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “It’s not what I expected.”

Azriel nodded. “In a good way?”

You smiled lightly up at him. He nearly fell over. “Everyone seems… normal. Like a family.”

Azriel smiled faintly. “They are. We are a family.”

Studying his face, you stayed silent for a moment. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He squeezed your shoulder gently, feeling his heart constrict at your vulnerability. “Sleep well. Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, still smiling slightly as you went inside and gently closed the door behind you.

---

Despite your exhaustion, you lay awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, your mind spinning. A family. That’s what this was, all of these powerful fae in one room, the mightiest warriors, the most fearsome High Lord… talking and teasing and laughing at dinner. 

You had felt Azriel’s eyes on you, gauging your reactions. 

Azriel. He was what was truly keeping you up, you thought. The most beautiful man with the scarred hands and the siphons, you had learned, that helped him harness his unbelievable power, the apparently legendary blade at his side. And yet, the way he watched you, the way his voice changed when he spoke to you…

You couldn’t help but trust him, feeling safe next to him. He had saved your life, after all. It was that thought that was wisping through your mind as you finally drifted off to sleep. 

---

The first night in your new bed, you had slept through the night once you were finally able to sleep, too exhausted from the events of the day to be chased by monsters in your dreams. 

The second night was a different story. 

You didn’t even realize you had been screaming until scarred hands were shaking you awake, hazel eyes so close to yours, full of worry and protectiveness, saying your name over and over until your eyes cleared. 

Azriel’s fingers were rubbing soothing circles on your shoulders. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It was just a dream,” he said softly, cupping your cheek in his rough hand when you had stopped trembling.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked, tears springing to your eyes. 

He gently wiped the tears away with his thumb, not taking his eyes off you for a second. “For what?” his voice was husky from sleep.

“Waking you,” you whispered, captivated by his hands on you, his eyes swimming with emotion. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he said gently, his thumb still absently stroking your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice to be audible enough for him to hear.

“Do you want -- I can stay. If you want. Until you fall back to sleep,” he said hesitantly. You hadn’t known him long, but you imagined it was rare for him to stumble over his words like this.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quietly, though you felt your heart swell at the offer. “I appreciate it, but… I’m sure the spymaster needs sleep.”

The corner of his mouth turned up into a faint smile as he pulled back from you, settling in the armchair against the wall. “I’m used to staying up because I’m the spymaster,” he said, humor lining his voice.

“You’ve already done so much for me--”

His voice was still soft, but added a commanding edge as he cut you off. “Sleep, my lady. I don’t mind.”

You considered protesting again, but knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere. And honestly… it did make you feel better to have his comforting presence in the room, chasing away all of your invisible demons.

---

It didn’t take long for your breathing to go steady, lost in a deep sleep. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to leave you yet, though. 

The sound of your terrified shrieks ran over and over in his mind. He had been protective of people before, of course, but this. The terror he could feel radiating off of you, the tears streaming down your face, the look in your eyes before you realized where you were… his hands gripped the armrests so tightly that he worried you might not have a chair in your room tomorrow. 

He focused on you now: your peaceful face, your hair draped across the pillow, your breathing even. It calmed him down slightly, but not enough.

Azriel wanted to stay. Just to be sure that you were alright, to ensure that he would be able to stop the nightmares before they escalated this time, but he did not want to invade your privacy. He knew that you probably wouldn’t be happy to find him still sitting there in the morning. 

So, after you had been sleeping peacefully for quite some time, he dragged himself out of the chair and silently went to his own room, where he could not sleep at all, those screams rattling around in his mind.

---

Azriel stayed by your side for weeks after you arrived in the Night Court, only leaving, seemingly, when he absolutely had to. The two of you would relax in the library, raid the kitchen, wander around the streets in Velaris that seemed endless to you, in the best way. Despite everything that you had heard of the Night Court and its inhabitants, you were starting to feel at home there. Though you still were extremely intimidated by everyone except Azriel, and couldn’t imagine spending time with any one of them if he wasn’t present. 

Though you were starting to adjust to your new life, you continued to wake Azriel so consistently with your nightmares that you wondered if you should just offer to let him sleep next to you. Of course, you knew you couldn’t possibly do that. Your cheeks flushed at just the thought. Guilt gnawed at you though, for being the reason for his lack of sleep, so much so that you offered to switch rooms, somewhere further from him, but he would hear none of it. Nearly every night he came into your room, shaking you awake, then soothing you back to sleep. You couldn’t imagine how he was functioning on so little rest.

One night was particularly bad. You dreamt of the attack on your village, the bloodshed you saw, the terror you felt. You knew Azriel could sense that it was worse than usual, as he wouldn’t take his soothing hands from your arms until you had stopped trembling, which took significantly longer than it normally did. His eyes were filled with more worry than you had seen before, and when he pulled away from you, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and gently grabbing his wrist. 

His eyes widened a bit in surprise as he turned back to face you, but he said nothing. 

“Can you come here?” Your quiet voice cracked on the last word and his jaw ticked at the sound. 

He approached you slowly, like he didn’t want to do the wrong thing. “What can I do?” he murmured. 

“Can you -- I mean, would it be too weird…” you flushed, unable to get the words out.

Comprehension flooded his expression and you were so embarrassed that you wanted to take it all back, but then his eyes softened with so much warmth that you wanted to cry. “You want me to lay with you for a bit?”

You bit your lip. “Would you?”

The ghost of a smile. Your heart melted.

You scooched over to the far side of the bed before he settled into next to you, agonizingly slowly. He faced you, propping his cheek on his fist. “Is this okay?”

You could only nod, concealing half your face with your sheets in an attempt to hide how red your cheeks had no doubt become. The heat radiated off his body, his shadows nowhere to be found in the dim light. 

He smiled faintly as you looked at him. He murmured, “you have to close your eyes to sleep, you know.”

More heat rose to your cheeks. “You could sleep too. You don’t have to stay up and guard me.”

His smile grew. “Isn’t that literally what I’m here for?”

“You’re here for…” you contemplated how much you should tell him. “Your comforting presence,” you finally said. 

“You find my presence comforting?” he said, his voice losing that teasing note he had been using moments before.

“Of course I do,” you said, slightly mesmerized by those hazel eyes that rarely left yours.

His expression was unreadable as he studied you for another moment before laying down and murmuring, “Go to sleep.”

So, you did.

---

Azriel could not sleep.

His mate. His mate, who flooded his thoughts day in and day out, whose tug on him drove him mad every waking moment, was in bed with him. And she had no idea what she was. Or what he desperately wanted to do to her.

Your comforting presence. 

The words drifted around his mind ceaselessly. He was willing to bet that his mate was one of the only people who would ever feel that way. Most people feared him, or were at least wary of the near-silent shadowsinger.

But, his mate… 

Azriel’s eyes whipped to you as your breathing changed, ready to wake you up again if need be. He watched the rise and fall of your chest carefully, before it evened out again and he relaxed back against the mattress. 

He would have to tell you. Soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this, without having any idea how you felt about him. 

He thought of you, as he always did lately, when he finally drifted off to sleep. 

---

Strong arms were holding you when you awoke. Before you were fully conscious, you snuggled further into the warmth. Mother only knew how long it had been since you had felt that safe. 

It wasn’t until you heard the grumble of a sleepy male behind you that your eyes sprung open and you realized where you were. You were in your bed, faint sunlight shining through the curtains. And the shadowsinger was behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle, your bodies flush together, his breath tickling your neck. 

You were spooning. Azriel was spooning you. 

And he wasn’t awake yet.

Mother above and Cauldron save me.

Should you pull away? You didn’t exactly want to. And it had been so long since he had gotten a good night’s rest, thanks to you. 

Selfishly, you couldn’t bear to leave those arms. So, you did what any rational person would do. You pretended you were still asleep and savored the feeling of the strong warrior’s body pressed against yours.

It was a little while later when he shifted and stiffened. He was awake. 

Carefully, he untangled himself from you, backing up to where he had started the night. After a moment, you turned around, to face him, feigning grogginess. 

He was gazing at you, his expression more open than you had ever seen it. His eyes swimmed with something that looked like longing. Or maybe that’s just what you hoped it was.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. It made your toes curl beneath the sheets.

“I slept really well, actually,” you said, honestly. “Did you get to sleep?”

He nodded, his expression smoothing back to that unreadable blankness. 

“Thank you for staying,” you said softly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I don’t know what I would do without you, either.”

You sat up a bit, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Me? What do you mean?”

He furrowed his brow, as if he were contemplating whether to tell you something or not. 

“Is something wrong?” you asked. 

He swallowed, his jaw clenched slightly. “There’s something I should tell you.”

You just waited, gazing at that beautiful face.

Taking a deep breath, his eyes not wavering from yours, he said, “That day, when I touched you in the woods, I realized that you’re my mate.”

If you weren’t in your bed, you’re sure you would have fallen over. Your heart started pounding and you sat up fully, now very aware of the thin night clothes you were wearing. 

Azriel sat up too, studying, trying to gauge your reaction. 

“That’s why you were so adamant about bringing me with you,” you said quietly, your mind reeling. 

He nodded. “To be fair, I might have done that anyway, but… yes. I couldn’t leave you there.”

You watched his hazel eyes looking back at you. You had been right before, you could see that now. He wanted you. Longed to be close to you. 

“That’s why I feel so connected to you,” you whispered, noting that tug in your chest that is always leading you to him. “Why you always make me feel so safe.”

His expression flooded with emotion. “You really feel that way around me?”

“Of course I do. Since the very beginning,” you said, inching closer to him, so your legs were almost touching. You couldn’t quite believe it. 

Azriel was your mate. The sweet, mysterious, strong spymaster from the Night Court who saved your life. Who had given you a home.

He was your home, you realized with a start. 

“Are you…happy?” Azriel asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. 

He had been worried, you realized. Worried that you would be upset, or wouldn’t return his feelings. 

Without a word, you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him.

You felt the relief rush through his body as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to him. You settled on his lap, straddling him, deepening the kiss. 

He moaned quietly into your mouth as he slipped his tongue inside and you tightened your grip on him, raking your nails down his back. You felt his hardness pressing against your leg, and flushed at that feeling of being wanted.

His rough hands trailed up your bare thighs, toying with the hem of your nightdress. He stopped kissing you long enough to pull back, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded, smiling, and kissed him fiercely before he slowly pulled the dress up and over your head, his eyes raking your body, now completely bare save for your underwear.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling, before he kissed sensually down your neck. Then lower and lower…

You gasped as he took your nipple in his mouth, biting gently before soothing over the peak with his tongue. 

“Azriel,” you moaned, and he growled in response, tightening an arm around your waist and flipping you onto your back, pressing your body into the mattress with his.

“You never answered my question,” he said, his voice husky, desperate. He toyed with one of your breasts while he devoured your neck, biting and licking and kissing.

“What… what was the question?” you panted, your mind spinning. 

He laughed into your skin, low and sensual, making your back arch. “Are you happy?”

You took your face in his hands, guiding him to look at you. His fingers stopped, his eyes open and yearning. “I’m home, Az. You’re my home. I’ve never been happier.”

His smile lit up his entire face, and he kissed you sweetly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he murmured. 

He continued kissing you slowly and lovingly before the two of you got heated again. You tugged at his shirt and he helped you peel it off. He leaned against you, and you reveled in the feeling of his skin against yours, the feel of his muscled back under your fingers.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as he kissed down your body while sliding your panties down your legs, eventually settling his face in between your legs, his mouth hovering an inch from where you needed him. 

“Az,” you groaned, twining your fingers in his hair. 

You could’ve sworn you heard a soft grunt before his mouth connected with your center and you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. 

“We’re the only ones here, you know,” he said, eyeing you mischievously, sliding a finger into you while his mouth was occupied.

“Meaning?” you panted.

He smirked, sliding another finger into you. You gasped, your back arching off the mattress. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he said, his voice velvet. 

Before you could react, he ducked his head back down, sucking hard on your clit, while pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

You couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you, tugging at his hair, pulling him further into you.

Laughing into your skin, he splayed his free hand over your stomach to stop your squirming and continued devouring you.

Eventually, you needed more. “Azriel?” 

“Hmm?” he mumbled, his mouth still working.

“If you don’t take your pants off right now, I might die,” you said, your voice breathy.

He finally took his mouth off you, leaning his head back and laughing louder than you’d ever seen from him. The sound was deep, filling the room. It made your heart swell.

Sliding off the bed, his eyes laser focused on you, he said “I suppose I can’t allow that, can I?” 

He held your gaze as he slowly slid his pants off. When he was naked before you, he stalked towards you, his eyes predatory. 

You gulped, trying not to show how surprised you were at the size of him.

Azriel was smirking, more smug than you’d ever seen him. He placed his elbows on either side of your head, hovering over you. “Was there something you wanted?” he teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge.

You scowled at him and he grinned. “You know what I want,” you groaned.

He cocked his head, feigning ignorance. 

“You were so much nicer before,” you mumbled, still trying and failing to pull his muscled body on top of yours. 

Leaning his lips down so they were hovering just over yours, he whispered, “I want you to say it.”

Your mouth fell open. “I can’t,” you squeaked.

He smirked. “I’m your mate. You can tell me anything.”

Sighing, you looked to the ceiling, unable to look him in the eyes. “I want you.”

“You already have me,” he said, lightly nipping at your throat. “What do you want me to do?”

“Azriel.”

He laughed lightly. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to take a guess then.” 

Before you could respond, he slid into you, groaning as he did so. 

He leaned his forehead against yours, forcing you to look up at him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him, saying “Did I guess correctly?”

Biting your lip, you nodded and he grinned. 

“Ready for more?”

You groaned in response, unable to speak.

Slowly, he started moving in and out of you. The two of you moaned in unison.

He groaned, “You feel --”

“So good,” you finished, and he let out a breathy laugh, moving his hips faster. 

Azriel was gazing at you with so much love and affection as he was moving in and out of you, you could barely breathe. You placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled against your mouth, his breathing ragged. 

You couldn’t believe you had eternity to do this with your mate. 

---

Azriel did not leave your bedroom that day. Frankly, he never wanted to leave it again.

He knew he probably could’ve kept going long into the night, but he could tell that you needed a break, so the two of you had settled against the pillows. You were now asleep, your head on his chest, your fingers lightly gripping his waist. 

His heart swelled as he lightly ran his fingers through your hair, savoring the feeling of being in love and having you close to him. 

He never wanted to let go.

[redbleedingrose]

imagine waking az up with kisses all over his face and then saying goodnight by kissing him all over his face too 🥺

HELP!!!

Smothering Az in kisses because he is also a shy boy is just.... sigh. What I would do to be with that male.

Okay no, but imagine this... being best friends with Azriel and you both are complete idiots in denial that you both love each other sm and Rhys and Cass drive themselves crazy (and broke) with bets on how long it will take you two to realize you both are madly in love with each other.

What do you mean its not normal for besties to constantly chose to sit next to each other and get annoyed if someone steals their spot???

Like Azriel has the right to be annoyed that Mor is sitting next to you instead of him. He always sits next to you. That's basically his undesignated but designated seat on the sofa. You sit at the corner because you like to lean against the arm rest, and you stuff your feet under Az's thigh to keep warm. Mor can't do that for you. And how about the fact that you both have your own conversations together, even though everyone else is around. He just has to tell you how he plans to get back at Cassian for the burly males attempt at dying poor Azzie's hair pink. Sigh...

What do you mean its not normal for besties to constantly be touching each other in some way???

Of course Azriel has to have his thigh pressed against yours. It is comfortable, and you love the heat that radiates off of him. Also he has nice arms. Are you not supposed to want to grab and squeeze at those muscles??? I mean c'mon??? They look delectable. And what do you mean you aren't supposed to be running into his arms as soon as he is back from a long mission?? The male has been gone for 3 weeks being the nightcourt spymaster??? You missed him?? Like... obviously you are gonna bury your face into his neck and wrap your legs around his waist so he can carry you around to the couch so he can collapse on top of you and take a 5 hour nap together because you both struggle to sleep without each other nearby??? That makes complete and other sense???

And what do you mean its not normal for besties to kiss each other?? Of course it is.

Of course it is completely normal for you to stare at Azriel's lips all day while he smirks down at you. They are nice and plump?? Like?? Who wouldn't stare at them?? And obviously, all those kisses to your cheek and forehead and temple and nose and chin from him are completely and utterly platonic??? Of course its just best friend vibes when you snuggle into his side and smooch his bicep when he wraps his arm around you. And yeah you do kiss each others lips sometimes??? Like... Is Azriel supposed to resist your pretty glossed up lips? He is supposed to make sure the strawberry flavored gloss covers every inch of your lips so obvi he is gonna kiss you to make it all even. And ummm? It's just a peck! And sometimes more. But its just because he is your best friend. Azriel wants to make sure you feel love in every way.

So yeah. You are just best friends. Obviously, Rhys and Cass are the true idiots, smh.

Should I write a Part 2????

Check out more of my works! Reblogs and Comments are always appreciate and go such a long way in motivating me!

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty

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: Canon typical graphic depictions

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

You were running on coffee and willpower, and both were in short supply. You cradled what you promised would be your last cup in your hands, feeling your fried nerves inch closer to bursting into flames with every bitter sip. 

Azriel had one arm looped protectively around your waist, propping you up against his side like an overworked bookend. You both sat huddled over the map you’d spent the last day and night laboring over until you could picture every stark line pressed behind shuttered eyelids like an afterimage. Until your cramped hands shook while clutching the mug like a vice. 

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Nesta, Lucien, and Cassian similarly hovered over the innocuous sheet of paper. Pale parchment glow flickering over expressions of intense thought. 

You traced the outline of the lake, its form vaguely star shaped and pointing abstractly towards the north, south, east, and west.

“Here.” You tapped the northeast edge where a greyed out huddle of shapes formed the forest and a collection of scribbles marked the Death god’s home close to the waters. The lines swirled in your mind like a thousand snakes locked in battle, swallowing each other whole and getting eaten alive in an endless, vicious cycle. 

Koschei’s portion of the continent lay flat and unassuming, seemingly vulnerable with the flatlands peering at his back with limitless entry points for enemies from the Continent. But the seductive ease of access through that region was a guise. Koschei was a death god, and a powerful one at that. Magic grew in and out of the soil there and what walked those woods had a strange habit of toeing the line between life and death.

The western corners swam in seas of grasslands, flat and open and unprotected save for the expanse of water a mile wide. 

And the lake. The lake was the most curious thing of all. A black shape on paper, still and foreboding. 

You knew from Andrian’s memories that enchanted swans flocked there — women layered with curses that kept them bound to the region in animal form — but nothing else. No creatures floundered in the salty dark. No animals came to drink from it as if they could sense the power that tainted it with decay. 

“The boundaries of the Koschei’s power lie somewhere along here.” You pointed to the lazy line sketched down. “But I wouldn’t trust it. When Andrian was first sent off from the lake he crossed the plains towards one of the harbor towns on the coast and he felt that Koschei’s influence scaled with the distance away from the source of his power.” 

“Any weak points? Places we could slip in unnoticed?” Feyre’s eyes scanned the page, reimagining your weak swirls of ink into something more layered. Something with more meaning that could only come about from the mind of an artist and a warrior. 

You pointed to one of the star points and then to another toward the south. “Here and here. Don’t ask me how and don’t ask me why but these are the only two blind spots. Andrian used to sneak away from Koschei’s house to these two places.”

“To do what?” Cassian asked. He lumbered towards the back of the war room, easily peering over everyone’s shoulders to the flattened parchment and eyeing the wooden pieces strewn across the map, his own piece being tipped with a glistening red stone. 

“To plan his escape.” 

A hush fell over the room, thick and suffocating. 

The boy had never succeeded.

Feyre’s lips flattened to a pale line, the air around her reverberating with heat as the temperature in the room rose — a drop of Autumn’s power magnified. She nodded to the second map, this one gathered from Azriel’s contacts on the Continent. Whereas your map had laid out Koschei’s land in detail, Azriel’s was suspiciously empty where the lake was concerned. The two fit together like puzzle pieces. “What’s the nearest harbor town?”

“Tournnes.” Azriel replied without needing to look down. You’d memorized one map, he’d memorized the other. “It’s a small fishing village located twenty-three miles to the southwest. Most of the inhabitants are men that come and go with the season and travel west from Slairn and Friesieg. It will be empty this time of year.” The fish would have gone south in search of warmer waters. Even here the Sidra had turned frigid, crusts of ice lapping up against grey sand shores. 

Cassian shook his head, examining the map with a scowl. “There’s poor coverage getting from Tournnes to Koschei. And an abandoned town’s too obvious a place to hide any soldiers. It’d be better to come in from the east, through the woods.”

“Then we’d need to take the long way around Koschei’s territory.” Lucien argued back, “Our soldiers would need to trek through foreign lands for weeks and we’d lose any advantage Tarquin could give us by staying close to the coast.” 

“You can’t trust those woods,” you gasped, your eyes flashing with fear that didn’t wholly belong to you. 

Never enter those woods. Henna had once warned her Andrian. Never. Do you understand me?

Azriel tightened his hold on you, pressing his lips into your hair to brush against your ear. “Breathe, my love. Breathe.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped. 

It was a heavy burden carrying the memories of others. Like a weight tied around your belly that hadn’t been properly woven into flesh. Something both part and apart from you. And you’d been feeling too many of Andrian’s memories in the past week since his death. 

Silence flung itself over growing irritation and anxiety as everyone circled back to the same conclusion. 

They wouldn’t be able to bring their armies abroad. And with limited numbers, brute strength would only go so far when forced to bring a fight to a foreign land against a foreign god. This would be decided by few. It would be as intimate as lovers. As ruthless as enemies. 

“There’s still the other plan.” Nesta reminded them, glancing first at Feyre and you with the faintest of nods. 

“I hate that plan, Nes.” Cassian gripped the back of her wing-backed chair and she reached up to take his hand in her own. She looked like a queen in her own right — harsh, pragmatic, unwavering. And he her mirror — a roguish knight, rough and wild and raw. 

“I know. Unfortunately for you, it’s the best one we’ve got.” 

“It’s the only one we’ve got.” Mor said with a sigh, rubbing her temples to alleviate the ache there. “We’re asking for a blood bath one way or the other.” 

“Ione is still with us.” Rhys squeezed his cousin’s knee. “Without her, he can be killed.” 

“But for how long, Rhys? How long until he finds someone else? Some other way?”

The question hung in the air like an ax ready to fall. An invisible clock ticking its way towards doom. Koschei had read the book’s contents. He had to know the secret to freeing himself was sheltered in Ione’s veins. So long as she was alive and breathing she was a threat as much as she was a tantalizing prize for him to tear his teeth into. 

Feyre’s fingernails clicked on the glossy tabletop, eyes narrowed in on that splash of black on paper. Through the golden string tied to her lower ribs, she felt the tug of her mate’s silent agreement. Her eyes flickered upward for a brief moment, as if she could see through the layers of the House to the skies above. “For as long as we have Ione, we have the upper hand. But we can’t rely on it forever.” She looked at you, “ We go with the first plan. It will have to be enough.” 

You shivered. 

Four years ago, when the Day Court had first opened its borders to foreigners from other Courts, you’d encountered a male in the market. He’d been young and reckless and glamoured himself to live amongst the humans for six months. In that time, he’d learned their version of magic — the sleight of hand tricks and elaborate games of misdirection humans played on one another. Caped entertainers bedazzling crowds with obvious moves, while the real work happened just out of frame. 

You thought of him now. You pictured him in the marketplace as he made a hand-painted playing card disappear from his hand into the fold of his suit jacket, only to reappear under an overturned teacup. 

Yes. 

It would have to be enough. 

The crisp blade flashed in the dull light as you moved your feet back and forth in a practiced dance. 

Left, left, right, duck, keep your wrist straight and slice up. Just like Azriel had instructed you. He stood off the narrow mat, hazel eyes tracing every slow movement of yours with a critical gaze. 

“Practice makes permanence.” He’d reminded you earlier. “Get it right first, then we’ll worry about speed.” 

Magic hovered over the House of Wind’s training gym, warping the air like a soap bubble as it shielded you from the frigid rain. Even so, the scent of petrichor and the cleanliness of frosted wind hung close to warn of the storm churning its way down from the north, carrying with it the promise of rainfall or the first true flakes of snow. 

How poetic that winter should come with death chasing its heels while you were learning a dozen ways to kill a man. 

“Here.” Azriel took your wrist in a loose grip, arching your arm and sticking the point of the knife into the training dummy’s jugular. Hay crinkled and burst out from the burlap covering instead of blood and you stepped away, locating the points in the liver, the lungs, the heart, the throat, under the arms, and more. Gruesome things made digestible by the motionless, fake body propped up on wooden poles. 

You didn’t need to imagine what it would feel like for your blade to meet flesh. 

Your arms ached. Hot, unfamiliar stretches of muscle trembling while slick with sweat. You could taste salt on your tongue as Azriel repeated himself. 

“Be precise. Be quick if you can. Then run like hell.” 

Incapacitation and speed. Those were the only two things you could rely on if things went south on the Continent. 

Precise. Quick. Run.

“Emphasis on run,” You muttered beneath your breath. You adjusted your feet to match Azriel’s stance, feeling the strength of his muscles close to your body and imagining some of that power seeping into the ground for you to drink up. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, then rose in a smile. “Exactly.” He stepped in, hands twisting your hips to be straight and then drifting up to your wrist. “Too much.” He corrected your bones with a feather-light touch. He wasn’t smiling anymore. 

It should have been romantic. Him touching you like this with his front pressed against your back and his breath sliding over your skin as he taught you to wield a knife. Instead his insides churned relentlessly. Visions of you, blood-splattered and motionless on the ground, flashed through his mind. He’d be damned if he let that happen again. 

You practiced on him next. Blunt, stone knife gripped in your hands as he moved in slow-motion. Azriel must have had everything custom made for you. The balance felt right in your hands, the movement as fluid as your awkward limbs could manage. 

You clasped a hand around the back of his neck, dragging him forward as you swung up. 

Where the head goes, the body will follow.

He didn’t so much as grunt as the stone wedged itself into his ribs. 

You locked eyes with him and saw his pupils blown wide as a doe’s. “Good.” He murmured. “Again.” 

On and on you went for hours, Azriel’s panic fueling the training he put you through, as if he could fit a hundred years of combat into a handful of hours. 

You grunted when Azriel easily flipped you over onto your back, a scarred hand catching the nape of your neck so your head wouldn’t slam into the floor. The knife slipped out from your sweaty fingers, skittering away and disappearing beneath one of the weapons racks along the wall. You breathed heavily beneath him, feeling the grit of the ground and the sweat sliding into your hair and the leather brushing your chest with every breath he took. 

In a real fight, Azriel would have killed you a thousand times over and he knew it. There was not a single moment where you could have saved yourself. 

You saw the tell tale flicker in his eyes, the tensing of his jaw before he gritted his teeth and swore beneath his breath. 

You felt shame seep into your stomach again. “Az—”

“I want you to take my memories,” he said. “Everything I’ve learned over 500 years.” 

Metal whispered against leather as a tendril of shadow retrieved the knife and slid it into the thigh sheath Azriel had tied around your legs only hours ago. It felt strange to have such an unfamiliar weight against your thighs. To know that only leather kept the wicked blade from slicing you to the bone. 

“We’ve been over this before, Azriel. I can take however many memories I want from you until I can picture every way to take down an enemy in my mind’s eye. But that doesn’t mean my body will obey or follow through correctly. Knowing things mentally isn’t the same thing as knowing things physically.”

Azriel huffed in frustration, dropping one hand to your waist like he often did and gripping the flesh there to ground him. 

“If we had more time—”

“When this is over we’ll have more time.” 

If I make it. 

Because if there was anyone who would survive what was to come. It was Azriel. And you could find a great deal of comfort in that.

Azriel must have read your doubt because his eyes hardened and his hands came up to cup your jaw. “We will have more time. We’ll have time for everything, do you understand me?”

“Like what?”

“Whatever you want. We’ll travel the Courts. I’ll take you dancing and—”

“You’ll teach me a dozen new ways to kill someone?” 

“Exactly.”

“Should I start keeping a tally?” 

“If that would help, then yes.” He dipped his head down, kissing you firmly on the lips, the taste salty and warm to the touch. Kissing you came easy now. Touches were a comforting drug he craved daily. 

“If things go wrong—” He whispered, flicking a strand of hair out of your eyes. “Promise me you’ll find me.” 

You blinked up at him, tracing fragments of gold in his eyes. 

“Find you,” you echoed, your voice tinged with sadness. “You’re not going to convince me to run?”

He laughed bitterly. “I know you too well, my love. You wouldn’t listen even if I did. If anything, it would make you want to stay and fight even more, just to prove me wrong.“ “Then is this some reverse psychology? You tell me the opposite of what you want, so I end up doing what you intended all along?”

“You’re thinking too deeply about this.” He slid his arms around the small of your back, dropping his weight until you were flush against him. Until you could feel his heart beating beneath his skin in time to yours. “Find me, so I can protect you. And so if anything happens, we won’t be alone. I want you to promise me.” 

You caressed his cheek, the coarse bandages he’d wound around your wrists and knuckles scratching the skin of his jaw and the faint stubble that had grown there over sleepless nights. “I promise I’ll find you, Azriel. We’re better together anyways.” 

He could never disagree with you. He lifted you back onto your feet, kissing your forehead. “Three more drills, then we’ll be done for the day.” 

He made you run five. The bastard.

You’d dreamed of what might come. Nightmares filled with glassy-eyed children and skeletal forests where the dead roamed free. A black lake with stones of bleached bone to fill your lungs and choke the life out of you. 

You wanted to make Azriel proud. You wanted to be the kind of warrior who could match him physically, not just mentally. The kind of female he’d never have to worry about protecting in that way. But violence had never been beaten into your bones and you could only hope that the skills you did possess would see you through to the end. 

You and Azriel would make it. You’d all make it. 

Some way. 

Somehow. 

Then there would be time for everything you had ever wanted and everything you’d never had the courage to ask for.

You woke up to a world shivering beneath a dusting of snow. Frost creeped up the windowsill, trying to slither inside before the House’s magic burned it away. A grey, ashen sky hung low over the mountains, mist blowing over and gathering in valleys until they were transformed into pools of smoke. 

So this is it. You thought wearily, tasting the change in the air. Winter’s finally here to choke the world into submission. 

You burrowed further under Azriel’s wings, chasing the heat that rolled off his skin. When you looked up at his eyes they were already trained on the weather, some similar tangle of thoughts running through his mind that had his grip around your waist tightening. 

“The other death gods. Have you met any of them, Az?” You whispered your question into the hollow of his neck, feeling the blood rushing beneath your lips until he answered.

“I’ve met a fair few. The Bone Carver, Stryga, and Bryaxis joined our side in the final battle against Hybern and Nesta was equivalent in power when she first emerged from the Cauldron.” 

“Nesta?” You asked questionably. 

She was a collection of sharp edges wrapped in silk and cunning, but a death god? 

Azriel smiled ever so slightly. “You didn’t know her then, but she was a terror to behold. You could feel her presence in a room like a knife in your back or a flame licking at your heels so hold it starts to freeze. Only Cassian was foolish and lovestruck enough to approach her at the time.” 

You tried to imagine it — Cassian’s wild, borderline arrogant mannerisms going toe-to-toe against Nesta’s magnified sharp grace. “That sounds about right.” 

“Feyre knows the most about the death gods. Has come face to face with the most. Rhys sent her into the Weaver’s cabin to retrieve her engagement ring — don’t give me that look, my love, I don’t understand it either — and she’s the one who convinced The Bone Carver and Bryaxis to fight for us.” 

“Feyre has a penchant for endearing herself to monsters.” 

Azriel smirked, pearly teeth flashing. “You have no idea.” Then he said something that stuck with you. “The Bone Carver was especially close to her.” 

Anytime the Bone Carver — Thanatos — was mentioned, you could only think of Bethsevah. The one person who had ever looked upon his true face and never flinched.

“How so?” 

Shadows swarmed around his ears, as much a sign of his thinking as it was a sign that whispers beyond your own understanding were reaching him. 

“When Feyre met with the Bone Carver, he made a bargain that he’d only fight for her if she could descend into the Court of Nightmares and bring back an enchanted mirror without going mad. Feyre said she saw her true form when she looked into her reflection, and that it was only by accepting this form that she was able to keep the madness at bay. The Bone Carver was impressed with her and pledged his loyalty to her from then on.” Azriel shook his head, wings flaring out in another sign of his thinking. “It never made sense to me why a being like him would even make that bargain to begin with.” 

“Even death gods can be surprised. We should consider ourselves lucky.” 

“It wasn’t just that though. I was watching when he died. He… he turned his face up to the field at Feyre and he smiled at her. It felt like a bittersweet ending to a story I didn’t know. Like he was saying goodbye to more than just this world.” 

You draped your arm over his chest, tracing the black ink swirling across his chest and over his shoulders like ocean waves. The Bone Carver was more myth than legend to the few fae that had known of his existence and you knew with each passing century his story would be steadily wiped from the earth like wind shaving down stone. His name would become a whisper. His story, and Beth’s, a tragedy for no one but the stars to weep to. 

But you were still here, and your time with Bethsevah’s book had left you with no small amount of fondness for him. For now you would still be able to whisper his true name. 

“Thanatos.” You said. “He loved this world and the people in it. He sacrificed his life for it. I think he had many things he wanted to say goodbye to.” 

“To Thanatos then.” Azriel raised an invisible cup towards the ceiling of his bedroom, silk sheets sliding down his arms.

“To Thanatos,” you echoed. 

You eventually went through the morning motions together —Azriel helped lace up the back of your dress, and you buttoned up his shirts, careful to avoid the fragile membrane of his wings as you stood at his back.

He tugged you away from the bedroom door at the last moment, your questioning eyes softening when he cradled your face in his hands and stole one last kiss in the privacy of your room, murmuring "Beautiful," against the crown of your freshly brushed hair.

"Do the others know you're such a hopeless romantic?" You asked, finally opening the door and breaking the spell of privacy.

Before Azriel could answer, Cassian blew past the room, shockingly quiet for his mountainous size. "Yes, we all know," he shouted before disappearing down the hall.

Ione stood proud and tall in front of the windows, grey eyes narrowed at the Sidra as it wound through the valley like a snake. Cassian slid into the space beside her and handed her her cane. She knew instinctively where the warrior stood and where his hand reached out towards her. She took the cane without the second glance. A golden lion’s head roared from atop its wooden post, Ione’s fingers resting squarely between its glistening teeth as she leaned experimentally on the new device. Cassian had ordered it custom for her and she knew that hidden within the sleeve of glistening redwood was an iron rod forged in enchanted flames that rendered it near unbreakable. 

“Careful.” She reminded Cassian when she caught him staring for too long. “This body may be different, but I can still bring you to your knees.” 

Cassian chuckled, “I don’t doubt that.”

She slammed the cane against the ground once. Twice. Testing its strength and finding it worthy. “Do you think it will happen soon?” 

This waiting — it was beginning to grate on her nerves. This foreboding calm that threatened to fall away into chaos and bloodshed. She almost wished she were living three years into the future, when she was finally done healing from her wounds and the future had faded into the background of her life once more.

“If I could see into the future, I would not be here right now waiting.”

“And yet here we are.” Ione sighed, shoulders rising and falling elegantly beneath a wrinkled but slender neck.  

Cassian would have said more had Feyre and Rhys not entered the room together, bruises layered beneath their eyes as they plastered on bright smiles for their family, tension visible through the cracks in their porcelain teeth. 

The Inner Circle had assembled in their entirety at the request of their High Lord and High Lady. There was no holiday to be celebrated. No birthdays or anniversaries or special occasions. The fare that had been laid out on the table was simple and everyone filled their plates before spilling out across the sofas and the armchairs or carving out a space on one of Rhysand’s expensive hand-woven rugs. There would be no special meal around the new table devoid of scratches and watermarks and the passage of time and love. This was their family, and for their family it was the company that put finery to shame. 

Elain was a flutter of movement in and out of the kitchen, shepherding pots of tea and fruit tarts before Lucien finally caught her around the waist and made her rest. The House was equally restless. The lights strung above the fireplace mantle flickered like lantern flies. 

Mor sat with Emerie’s wings draped around her shoulders like a cape and Gwyn sat on the floor, hugging her knees close to her chest as she rested her head against the Illyrian female’s knee. To no one’s surprise, you and Azriel clung to the corner of the room, content to watch everyone’s laughter with your arm subtly looped around his. 

He still hasn’t told her, I see. Emerie noted, watching your smile stretch into place when Azriel leaned close to whisper in your ear. 

Does it matter? Mor teased, kissing Emerie’s nose reverently. The Illyrian’s cheeks turned warm. Emerie had not been granted the freedom to explore romance to the same degree as Mor, something she’d worried about when they first started their courtship. But if anyone asked the blonde, she’d tell them it drove her wild to see how such simple gestures could reduce the fearsome warrior to a puddle, even now. Mor tucked herself into Emerie’s side, throwing her long legs over the armrest. It’s probably a good thing. If they could speak to each other like this, we’d never hear from them again.

Emerie laughed into Mor’s golden hair. 

Conversations rose and fell. Plates emptied and clicked as they were laid out on the coffee table.

It was a simple peace they welcomed with open arms. 

They didn’t hear the faintest thud coming from above their heads. 

You smiled when one of Azriel’s shadows wove themselves into your hair, tickling the sensitive skin behind your ear and along your neck. 

“Sorry,” Azriel whispered, trying and failing to draw them back to him for the nth time that day. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.” They’d been especially touchy as of late, nipping at your heels like a litter of puppies vying for attention or hiding in your pockets. It was a mixture of Azriel’s own feelings that spurred them on and their own desire to protect what they’d claimed as theirs. 

“It’s alright, Azriel. I like having them around.” 

They hummed amongst themselves, happy to see you so pleased. Sometimes, Azriel wondered if you’d be able to learn to listen to them as well. To tease apart that secret language he couldn’t begin to describe. 

Maybe you were listening to them now without even realizing it.

Maybe that’s why you and Azriel were the only ones whose eyes snapped towards the hallway before the first creak of wood sounded throughout the House.

The shuffling of a new, unfamiliar set of feet down the stairs had the hair on the back of your neck rising and crackling with energy.

It wasn’t Jurian. It wasn’t loud enough to be Jurian. He so rarely descended from the attic that he made a habit of making his presence known, tired feet shuffling along the rugged staircase with measured drags. 

You walked over to your brother and tugged on the back of his shirt. “Jurian—”

“That’s not Jurian.” Lucien said with bated breath. He was the third person in the room to hear the sound.

He’d checked on his friends less than a handful of hours ago. Jurian had been as he always was — weary but hopeful as one hand had clenched the bundle of morphine and the other had leaned against the food cart Lucien had carried up to the top floor. 

And Vassa… Vassa had been uncharacteristically quiet, slouching against the wall of her gilded cage, raw skin and thin feathers trembling with her haggard breath as she slept. 

“You should come down.” Lucien had said. “You deserve a break.” 

But Jurian had only shook his head and flashed a tight smile. “As much as I would love to bless you with my presence, I won’t leave her like this. But one day, my friend, we’ll both walk down those steps together and have a proper celebration. I promise you.” 

Vassa came down the steps. 

Alone. 

Naked.

Shivering.

You eyed the window where the mid-afternoon sun beat down on a frosted city. 

It was the middle of the day… and Vassa was human. 

You clutched Lucien’s arm, fingernails digging through his cotton shirt before he could take another step forward. Silence suffocated the room. There was something deeply wrong with the cursed queen. She trembled like a newborn fawn unceremoniously dumped into the world, her skin puckered and pock-marked from where she’d picked at old scabs and opened new wounds. The whole array hung from bones so thin they may as well have belonged to a bird. 

“Vassa…” Lucien’s voice broke on her name. 

A path of bloody feathers trailed behind her.

She grasped at strands of her fiery red hair and tugged. Hard. You focused all your energy on keeping the food in your stomach when strands fell through her bloody fingers and saliva rose in your mouth. 

“I’m so sorry, Lucien. I can’t… It won’t stop.” Her voice, which had once been beautiful, grated your ears. “My skin. It feels like I’m crawling out of it.” 

“Vassa.” Lucien held out his hands, showing her they were empty. “Where’s Jurian?” He would come down. He would help her in ways only he was capable of. 

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

“Where’s Jurian?”

At the second mention of her lover’s name, Vassa broke down crying. Fat, ugly tears streaking down tan cheeks that had turned sallow and grey. She wiped them away, fingers dripping. There was a deep, unyielding hunger evident in every stutter of her body as her eyes raked across the room. You flinched when those milky, teal eyes passed over you… and landed on Ione. 

Elderly, painfully human, Ione.

Vassa’s left eye twitched and Azriel had only enough time to tackle you to the ground and cover your body with his own before the mortal queen burst into flames.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

^^ Visual depiction of how I've felt the last week like what in the world? I'm getting enough sleep I swear but every morning I feel like I'm dragging a two ton boulder behind me until I get a sip of that bitter goodness. Ugh. Hope y'all are resting better than I am.

Anyways, I know it's been a while since I posted, but the chapter is here! Whoop! And I hope you enjoyed :) As always, feedback is appreciated and welcome if you have burning things you need to get off your chest (doesn't even have to be SSIB-related honestly my inbox is there).

[nattblacklupin]

Ice and shadows

Pairing: hockey player! Azriel x fem! Reader

Warnings: cursing, lots of fluff

Summary: headcanons about hockey player! Azriel

Hockey player! Cassian ● masterlist

Azriel is defence, He's the quiet and fast one that is nearly invisible on the ice if you don't pay attention to him.

His sneaky ability to not be seen isn't put to use just on the ice to suprise his opponents. He especially likes to use it when scaring his beloved wife, you.

You waited for Azriel to come back home from yet another training. The playoffs are close, and they are working harder than ever. He stays there even longer than his teammates, scared of failing once again - no one on the Velaris team wants to lose in the semifinals like last year. They made stupid mistakes that couldn't happen again. All of them will make sure of it.

With lids feeling heavier every second, you try to still pay attention to your favourite show. It will surely keep you awake until Azriel arrives home.

Long yawn left you as something touched your shoulder. With scream, you jumped up. Now awake and aware with a feeling of adrenaline. You quickly grabbed the vase that was on the coffee table, on which you nearly fell. Ready to fight any intruder that could come in your home. "Woah, who knew I married such a dangerous woman." Focusing your eyes and slowly calming down, you realise that the scary intruder is just your husband finally home. With that, you put down the vase and jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Never scare me like that again," you whisper into his lips. "I wouldn't dream of it." He finally kissed you with plans that will keep you awake for the whole night.

Azriel isn't exactly the type to force you to wear his jersey to games. It's up to you, you can wear whatever you want. He can fight. But oh, mother, when you wear his jersey, it awakes something in him. You having his name on your ass and in your passport is dream come true for him. He is thanking the stars every night for blessing him with your presence.

It was an important match today, the whole Velaris team stressing about it for weeks. This match will decide which team will go to playoffs. Azriel left long ago, which left you home alone with a lot of work. You didn't mind, though. At least you could take your mind off the potential loss that can happen today.

Being finally done with all chores, you decided it's the time to start getting ready. It's better to be there sooner rather than later. Knowing that Azriel doesn't play well without his good luck kiss. Your heart nearly stopped when you checked the time. The game starts in twenty minutes. It's nowhere the time you wished you would have. Your hair is still messy, dressed in Azriels shirt without make up you started running around the house, trying to get ready as fast as possible. Glad for the fact that the stadium was 5 minutes from your home if you ran. Swiftly putting on stray pants that were on the floor, where you threw them yesterday, grabbing Azriels jersey you run out of the house. Your feet took you to the stadium in a record time of three minutes, quickly finding your way to the cabins where the players are probably now doing the last steps of their pregame routine. You open the door while taking deep breaths. "Azriel". Azriels shoulders visibly releax, "you came." He whispered like he thought you forgot, like you wouldn't come to support your husband in the second thing that mattered the most to him. "Of course I did"

As said before, Azriel has to have his good luck kiss, or he just can't play well. Everybody teases him for it, but behind his back, they are begging you to never skip his game. The one time it happened was enough.

Fortunately for everyone, it was just practice match before the season, where it didn't exactly matter if the team won. But every match mattered to them, no matter with whom or when. They are here to show they are the best.

That's probably why everybody was taken by suprised when Azriel was clumsy on the ice and couldn't keep balance. His usually incredibly fast skating turned into woblly slow skating. It got that bad he himself decided not to play that day, saying that he just can't.

Azriel never exactly told anyone it was cause you didn't came to the game and weren't his lucky charm. But it was more than clear to anyone who isn't blind.

Since that day, you had to come to every game. And if you couldn't, well you suddenly could. Because Cassian has no problem with stealing you away and bringing you to the game

"No, Cass, I really can't come. I have to do this work. I can probably make it in time for third period, but I'm not sure." Explaning your reasons to Cassian was harder than anyone could ever imagine. He didn't understand that you had work that had to be done today or that your boss would literally kick you out. Sometimes, you feel like your boss is secret hater of your boyfriend, and that's why he tries to keep you in work longer, just on days when he plays. "You will come, we don't care about your opinion." Cassian responded stubborn as ever, "well I don't care about yours too. " With that, you left the call, finally doing papers given to you by the boss.

Ten minutes in someone barged into your office, putting you over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Cassian! What the hell are you doing?!" You yelled at him, keeping your anger at bay, or you would have to punch him. "Saving the match" confidence and pride dripping from his voice. You lifted up your head, looking at him with an annoyed look. "Fine." Crossing your arms letting out a sigh still swinging over his shoulder, "but I swear to gods, if I get fired, you will send me money every month"

Don't think that your relationship with Azriel is any secret or not medially famous. It's quite the opposite.

You two are the most famous and loved couple in hockey word. Sometimes, Rhysand is jokingly complaining about how you're stealing his spotlight and becoming more famous than the whole team.

People love to edit you two with cute songs and use every cute clip that is on the internet.

The most famous being moment where he is on the ice sending you kiss after scoring a goal. Or where someone recorded you two while skating on public ring, Azriel having to hold your hands so you don't fall. It resulted in both of you falling because some kid bumped into you.

Not to mention that Azriel loved taking you to all of his interviews. Like all of them.

Reporter wanting to have an interview with him without you? Nope, it's not happening. You two are double version, it's not possible to get one without the other.

"So Azriel, tell us, what was the biggest motivation for winning this match? Was there something - perhaps someone you won this for?" Azriel nodded his head and looked at you, love sparkling in his eyes. " Of course I did. Like every match. " The camera captures the way his hand snakes around your waist, with feathery like touches caressing it.

"I won it for my wife"

[purple-writer8]

Suburban Legends - ACOTAR

Azriel x Winter Court Reader

“When you hold me, it holds me together.”

warnings: unrequited love, pining, evil thoughts, intrusive thoughts, lesser fae thinks shes not enough, hating on girl, self doubt, self loathing, reader is a handful, ice powers, groping, lesser fae slander

1.7k words

Part Two to Heather

Masterlist :)

He kissed you. Azriel kissed you. And then you winnowed away, because he kissed you in a way that you knew would screw you up forever. Because Azriel could never love you. You were not soft like Elain, were not some soft baker with beautiful High Fae features.

No. You were just a winterling. A lesser fae that iced everything around her. You paced the House of Wind, paced and paced through the entire manor— scared out of your mind of seeing Azriel again. Why would he kiss you?

Your mind raced and raced and raced.

Azriel deserved someone better than you, he deserved Elain. Not some winterling that got jealous because of a sweater, jealous and you two weren’t even together. Oh, you were so embarrassed— you wanted to die. You got a quick snack in the kitchen, thanking the house for it, and then you rushed up to your room.

Cauldron, you would die of embarrassment if you saw Azriel.

The way that he kissed you, it killed you, because you knew that you were doomed. How were you supposed to live now that you had tasted him? He had kissed you out of pity, you were sure. Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do.

As you ate your chips and dip, you noticed a shadow slithering underneath your door. You ignored it. He probably just wanted to know if you were freaking out or something.

You heard footsteps outside your door and froze when they stopped in front of it. You whispered a curse when your plate with your snack turned to ice, you really had to start controlling your powers.

A knock sounded against the wood of your door, and you wanted to die. You could feel the ice appearing through your body, invading your skin as it did whenever you were in distress— a winterling defense mechanism. You remained silent, unmoving, and after not answering the door for minutes, the shadow and it’s singer left— footsteps disappearing down the hall.

You were tempted to run out of your room and go after him but you were never going to do that. You would die of embarrassment if Azriel simply rejected you, telling you that he only kissed you because he felt bad.

-

Azriel knocked on your door every night for an entire week, maybe to reject you, or maybe to send you on a mission. You were not sure, but you had barricaded yourself in your room. If you were needed for a mission, Rhysand would reach you, you were sure. Your room had turned into a winter wonderland, your anxiety making your ice powers almost uncontrollable— and frankly unbearable. You were sure you had frost bite by now.

A knock sounded to your door, and instantly you turned to it, watching for the shadow that would always check on you when Azriel came. But no shadow appeared. “Darling? It’s me.”

Surely you could die from embarrassment when you heard the High Lord outside your door. You whimpered when more ice manifested from your fingertips, it fucking hurt and you were sure your fingers could be thawed off your hands any moment now.

Dark majestic talons caressed your mind, and you were tempted to let them in— but instead reinforced the walls that kept Rhysand out, because how fucking embarrassing is it to let your High Lord see how you’ve iced your entire room just because a guy doesn’t want you.

You are supposed to be better than that. But you weren’t.

“Open the door,” the High Lord ordered, and you complied.

His violet eyes widened when he took in the state of your room. “I… What… I… Ice.” Was all he managed to say as he stepped into the room, shivering as the cold hit him.

You smiled awkwardly, unnaturally, “hey.”

“So when Cassian said you turned his room into ice… he meant this?” Rhysand asked and you nodded, awkwardly shifting your weight on your feet. His eyes took in your form and you almost covered your face, but you didn’t. Because the one person who knew all your flaws and ugliness was your High Lord, and he accepted you that way.

It wasn’t a pretty sight when you lost control. As a winterling lesser, the powers that you had were all ice ones. You could wield ice from your fingertips, and when distress happened upon your body— ice bloomed through your flesh, because your blood turned cold. You weren’t good at controlling them; so when anxiety hit you, your veins turned black and you froze everything around you.

Every vein in your body was noticeable, your eyes were white, and you were covered in ice.

Rhysand was probably disgusted by you.

“Azriel says you’ve been cooped up here since game night. Says you won’t open the door for him.” Rhysand stated as he looked around your room, blinking slowly as he took in all of your belongings being frozen.

“For him. But I opened the door for you,” you answered sheepishly.

“He let me know what happened… that night when he went to get you outside… I…” You put your hand up when he said those words.

“I know. I know. He doesn’t like me. I was stupid to complain about a sweater. I mean, my audacity, right?” You laughed dryly. Rhysand frowned, eyeing you— then eyeing your room.

With a snap of his fingers, your room was back to normal. “We’re going out to Rita’s tonight, join us,” Rhysand stated simply, and you were about to decline, but his stern gaze told you that it was a command— not a suggestion.

“I would much rather stay in,” you try anyways. Rhysand shakes his head. “So you could drown in ice and self pity? Get a grip, darling.”

You don’t admit that it hurts. It was not self pity, it was self hate, loathing. You ultimately nod, because you know he is not gonna let you just wallow in your sadness even though it’s all that you want. “Talk to him,” Rhysand said before winnowing away.

You scoffed at nothing. Absolutely not. If he rejected you, which you were sure he would, it would cause you more self hate than you could ever deal with.

You got ready that night in your usual attire. Glittering gowns with diamonds that resembled little snowflakes, reminiscent of your origins. You would look at the clock as you did your hair, and when ten pm rolled around and Azriel did not knock like every other night that week— your whole life was ruined.

At eleven you called for Rhysand in your mind so he could take you down to Rita’s and that he did, though the flight was silent. You were not very fond of him ordering you to hang out when you were miserable.

At Rita’s, you wanted to die.

Azriel was there, sitting silently next to Elain. And instantly your evil mind was hoping she got poisoned by the cocktail she was gently and elegantly sipping.

You truly were unlovable and unlikeable, huh?

You could feel those hazel eyes on you, though no shadows came to greet you. You did not dare meet his gaze because you were sure you would hurl ice all over the floor, so you rushed to find your High Lady and Mor who were chatting by the bar.

They greeted you happily, chatting you up over things you could care less about— because how could you focus when you could see everyone fawning over the shadowsinger in your peripheral vision. He was so magnetic to every fae that it was almost obnoxious.

Feyre started talking about the mating bond with Mor, indulging her in a debate about whether all mates were meant to be. All you could do was fantasize about you and Azriel, mismatched as you may be, surprising the whole court by being mates.

A fae can dream.

A male appeared out of the blue— a handsome male— and he asked you to dance. You indulged him. It was better than standing there pretending to care about Feyre and Mor’s conversation. You loved them, but your mind was elsewhere.

The male danced to the music, swaying along with you, his eyes focused on your white ones. “Shit… I can imagine you sucking my cock with those looking up at me… a perfect lesser fuck,” you gasped at his lewd words because, what the fuck?!

Your heart thudded and you smelled danger, so you gave him an awkward smile and stepped back from him, only for him to snake one strong arm around your waist, tugging you close. “I-Uh, have to go,” you chuckled nervously, looking around for your friends, though the sea of people dancing made it near impossible for you to see their usual booth.

“What does a little lesser like you have to do that is better than being with me?” He asked, leaning down to your ear, an act that sent shivers down your spine. Fear. Which was stupid because you were a spy for the Night Court, you could handle him.

Before you could even snap at him, his hand groped your behind, causing you to gasp and push him away— but in that moment he was stronger, so he tugged you right back to his bulky body. “Who do you think you are?” You scoffed at him, a snarl on your face.

“I’m taking you home tonight, lesser.”

“Over my dead body.” The man stumbled backwards as he looked over your shoulder, to the shadowsinger that had appeared between the crowd. Every fae in the room turned to look at Azriel, at the icy rage that surfaced on his perfect face. He parted the crowd as he stood there, his wings tucked tight as he glared at the High Fae that had been harassing you.

A comforting shadow slinked to you, wrapping around your icy wrist gently. Its gentleness was a stark contrast to the sheer anger it’s master exuded from his being.

“Fuck… I didn’t know… didn’t know she was yours, shadowsinger.”

“Now you know not to fucking touch my mate.”

-

Author’s Note:

this definitely needs a part three i know

General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs

Series Taglist: @illiicits @dee-writes-smut @going-through-shit @saltedcoffeescotch @evergreenlark

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Five

Summary - After an intense meeting at the boarder, Eris and Lucien return home tight lipped and unwilling to ruin the night, and you discover something you thought was impossible.

Warnings - angst, fluff, Rhys being a grade A prick, our favourite found family back at it again, drinking, mentions of sex, some Eris background, Lucien being a meddler, a little trip down memory lane

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

HAPPY 600! 🥳

Be careful.

Eris would ensure he was. For you, he would contain his fiery rage, he would conform himself to the mask he had to wear around those from the Night Court. He would do anything to make sure he returned home to you.

Part of him was glad that Lucien had coaxed him away the moment he had secured you inside Fir Manor in the arms of Nesta and Elain, if he saw those rounded eyes of worry, he was sure that he may not have been able to walk away from you.

Sweat coated his brow as his weight crunched at the leaves and fallen branches beneath his feet. Of course Rhys had chosen to meet where Autumn met Winter, Kallias cared little when the High Lord of the Night Court would prowl onto his lands, and Rhys wouldn't dare to stand in Summer or Spring after what he and his Inner Circle had done to both of those courts.

The air had turned cold and the ground frozen a few miles back, the cold shrill of Winter swarmed around Eris and Lucien, and they were glad that they had made the smart decision to shroud themselves in their fur lined coats for what was sure to be a frosty meeting indeed. Though, Eris was glad that he had chosen the Winter boarder to say his piece, it meant that he was as far as possible away from you.

They had winnowed most of the way, hounds in tow bar Willow who had refused him to stay with you, coiling up on the porch and watching her master disappear into the forest. Lucien had groaned when they had landed at the foot of a rather large hill lined with an array of snow-kissed trees, Eris had smirked at the sound but willed his brother onward.

"Promise me that you won't let him get under your skin." There was still an ocean full of unspoken words between the two brothers, ones that voiced Eris’ regret and longing, that voiced all of guilt and desire to make things right.

In a way, it was easier for him to convince Lucien of his true nature now that they had something in common bar their looks, it was the shared need to protect you, to let you grow into your own person and watch on as you drove down your own path.

Eris frowned softly, he couldn't exactly blame Lucien for thinking that such a thing was possible, he hadn't exactly played the role of a loving brother or male in general. "I won't, Lucien. There is nothing he could say or offer to make me even consider it." That being handing you back over to the Night Court.

It wasn't something that he needed to say, neither of them wanted to even think about it as they continued upward.

"I know that you have no reason to trust anything I say after everything I've done to you," Lucien fell to Eris' side and glanced sidelong at him, not knowing what was coming next, "But I hope you can believe me when I say that I won't let any harm come to her. I have abided by every decision she has made, all I wish for is her happiness. I want her to grow and build her own life. All I can do is gently nudge her in the direction she is hesitant to follow, but I would never make her do anything she didn't wish to."

There was a pause, a comfortable silence as Lucien came to a certain realisation and grinned, "You feel something for her, don't you?" Eris felt the heat rise to his cheeks, the cold of the air making the redness more prominent on them, Lucien laughed, "I knew it from the moment you fought me to sit next to her at that dinner," his smile faltered and he stopped walking, he examined his brother, the one whose entire façade faltered the moment he noticed that you were around, "After everything that's happened, y/n deserves a chance to find her own passions away from the influence of anyone."

"I know that-"

"I wasn't finished," Lucien rolled his eyes and continued the ascent, passing Eris who trailed him by a step, "Despite everything, I do believe that she's better off here, with you. It's like you see her like how Nesta, Elain and I do but in a slightly different way, you see her in the way she deserves to be seen, in the most candid and gentle way possible," Lucien looked to Eris with understanding, "She deserves that, to be seen and understood and listened to, to be involved in every conversation, to be able to show everyone who she really is.”

The conversation died at the exact moment when the Vanserra brothers reached the apex of the mound, spotting the three Illyrians through the break in the trees that coiled around their figures, as if in warning to stay far far away.

The mask.

Right.

Rolling his shoulders, Eris was ashamed to drown his soul in the brutal essence which he often forced himself into, and he never wanted you to see just how bad it could be. Whisps of his breath floated from his lips, curling upward and freezing in the air.

"Thank you for waiting. Lucien couldn't keep up," the namesake scoffed in response as the pair approached the boarder, thanking the Mother of that intact shimmer which told them that the wards very much still up, and very strong. Eris folded his arms over his chest, finding the nearest tree and leaning on its rough bark before drawling, "You got me here, Rhys. Better start talking."

It was clear that Rhys was on the brink of losing his sanity, his eyes were cold and distant, more onyx than their usual violet hue, his wings were furled around his sides, and Lucien nor Eris could tell if he meant them to be intimidating. He appeared to them dishevelled, messy black hair, a certain paleness to his skin, an unhinged glare in his eye.

"I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us," he motioned to Azriel and Cassian, the latter of which looked more broken than Lucien had ever seen him, no doubt reeling in the loss of his mate, "I hope we don't keep you for long."

"Tell me what you want, Rhys. I don't have time for pleasantries," Eris plucked an invisible thread from the stitching of his coat and looked toward the High Lord.

The fake politeness was doing little to convince Eris of anything other than that Rhys surely was the most manipulative male he had ever come across, he stole that crown right from Beron's decaying corpse.

Resisting a snarl, Rhys exhaled deeply, unclenching his fists as he began a perfectly practiced speech, "My sister is not quite herself at the moment, I fear that she has made the wrong decision in residing in your court, her mental state has always been rather brittle," he took a step toward the boarder, his toes kissing the edge of that shimmering glare, "Give her back to us so that I can ensure that she receives the proper care."

"If y/n desires to return to the Night Court then she can, I'm not stopping her from doing whatever she wishes," Eris replied flatly, completely unphased to the words that were making his blood boil in his veins, did Rhys really have the gall to suggest that you were insane?

Azriel spoke then, realising that there was no realm of possibility where Eris would willingly give you back, "You stole her from the Day Court. Some would call it war-inducing."

There it was, the threat, Eris smiled, "Is that what you want? Another war?"

"I will do whatever is necessary to ensure her safe return to her home court."

Lucien moved to Eris' side, his muscles contracting with anger, "The Night Court is no longer her home," his voice was stoic and unnerving, his gaze daggered between the three Illyrians, "Eris did not steal her, she decided with her own strength to walk away from you, and she is already better for it."

Then, Rhys grinned, his power rattling against the wards around the Autumn Court, "I think you'll find, Lucien, that y/n belongs to me, she is property of the Night Court, her blood is a powerful tool that we can use to solidify our line. Since she is unmated, with no claim to her hand, it does mean that as long as she breathes, she is mine."

The words were a statement, and Rhys' voice did not falter. It was an old tradition, one marred in hatred and sadness. You were the daughter of a High Lord, and when he died, the archaic responsibility of marrying you into a suitable line fell to Rhys.

"I do suggest that you hand her over, I would hate to decimate your court, Eris. Especially when you've been working so hard to rectify the tyranny of your father," Rhys' hand drifted over his heart in mock sympathy.

There was no way in Hel that Eris would ever do such a thing, and he knew that there was no easy way for Rhys to willingly wage war on another court after what Prythian had only begun fully recovering from.

It was risky, but he couldn't let Rhys think he had him pinned to the frozen dirt like a snow fox to a bunny, "Rally your armies then, Rhysand, because there's no reality that exists where I would ever hand her over to you," then a feline smirk consumed his face, he ran his hand through his hair of fire and struck hard, "It seems to me that you only wish for her return so that no one learns what she is capable of. I intend to let her find out, and perhaps when the others realise too, of her story and what you've done, we may have High Queen on our hands."

Darkness exploded from him, his arms elongated into talons, his wings grew and creaked at the stretch like leather, he roared, an inhuman sound that sent shivers prickling down Eris and Lucien's spines; and even Azriel and Cassian had to step back with wide eyes at the sight of it.

Bingo.

With a graceful bow, Eris turned on his heels, beckoning his growling hounds whose hackles had raised to the skies, "I wish you a safe journey home, Rhysand. Send Feyre our collective regards," he called over his shoulder, not even flinching at the roar that flew threw the air.

They had what they wanted, the reason for Rhys' insistence, he knew that you had the power within you to be granted the highest honour of their world, and he had worked his entire existence to stop that from happening.

If Rhys wanted a war, then that's what he would get. Eris would rain hellfire over Prythian, and he knew for a fact that you would stand beside him smiling the entire time.

Eris and Lucien couldn't have been more relieved to be back at Fir Manor, the warmth of the estate shook their frozen bones back to life and they bristled off the jagged edges left by the words exchanged with Rhys.

Stones clunked together under their feet, but a hand on his arm stopped Eris moving to the house that was glowing with the essence of you. Golden light emitted from the windows and kissed the cobbled path before it, and girlish laughter drifted from the open windows along with the most divine smell.

"Before we go back in, I have to ask you something," Eris tensed and turned to his brother, his hair was unbound down the back of his fur coat, his mechanical eye surveyed him inquisitively, "Did you mean what you said back there? You'd go to war for her?"

Eris could had scoffed at the question, he removed his arm from his brothers grip and turned to the manor, smiling at the sight of you, Nesta, and Elain all dancing before the window, the neck of a wine bottle in your fingers and a sweet melody falling from your lips. Elain was cradling Willow in her arms who looked thrilled to be involved whilst Nesta had her own arms wound around your waist.

"Would you go to war for Elain?"

"Without question."

The sound of Eris' message being received was enough, but he spoke, "I have a feeling it won't come to that though. Call it a hunch."

Lucien hummed, not quite sure of what Eris meant, but followed after him as he paced down the path and up the porch steps, flinging the door open and grinning at your startled state as you fumbled to hide the wine bottle behind your back, "You're back," you whispered to him, the strap of your form fitting green dress falling over your shoulder which you didn't move to lift as you gazed at him.

His face was prickled with cold, his cheeks flush from walking into the heated manor from the wild winter winds; Eris shrugged off his coat and lay the garment over the arm of one of the armchairs of the seating area, pulling his sleeves up to expose his forearms, "I'm back."

"I'm here too, just in case anyone wanted to know," Lucien all but rolled his eyes at you as he passed, pressing his lips to Elain's forehead who fell into his embrace with Willow still firmly swaddled to her body, "Who's been cooking? I could smell it from outside," he delved deeper into the house despite Elain's scolding telling him that dinner wasn't ready yet.

Nesta followed the pair with a groan, taking the bottle of wine from behind your back and muttering something about saving the meal from Lucien's paws, leaving you and Eris alone.

Fiddling with your fingers, you took a step toward him, noticing a strand of his hair fall over his face and watching as his fingers moved to rake it back, such a thigh-clenching thing to witness. "How was it?"

"It was fine," his eyes still held a cold glare to them, one that was waning the longer it was fixated upon you, "We got what we needed."

"Which was?”

The nerves radiating from you were making even Eris feel nervous, he tiled his head to the side and took a step closer to you, his hands at his sides, "Not worthy enough to talk of now. Let's have tonight as a newly formed found family, and tomorrow, we can talk. I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Another step forward was taken by you, the hem of your dress swaying at the motion. You were so close to him that he could feel your warmth seep into his bones, so close that his cold breath made your own cheeks flush red.

It felt natural, to close the gap and fling your arms around him, to bury your face into his chest and deeply inhale his scent like you needed that to know that he had come back to you. There was a single beat where Eris just stood there frozen to the ground, but he slowly ran his fingers up your sides until one of them rested around your waist and the other cradled the back of your head, his nose rested atop of you, his lips ghosting at your hairline.

"I was worried," you admitted, squeezing him closer, thinking that if you didn't tell him that then he would think you weren't appreciative of the position he was now in.

Eris chuckled, it was low and rough, swirls of fire danced around your figures and his thumb rubbed small circles into the back of your neck, "You can't be rid of me that easily, Fawn."

The scampering of steps made you pull back from him, and he yearned to hold you again without a care about who would see and what they would say. Lucien entered the room once more holding a beautifully decorated cupcake in his hand, a raised brow on his face and fighting a smirk once he noted your closeness, "These cakes are amazing, y/n."

"Thank you, Lucien," you swayed back and forth on the balls of your feet, your eyes drowsy with drunkenness.

"I sent for dinner for your three, why are you cooking?" Eris asked, confused, only a fool would turn down food from the Autumn Court chefs.

Nesta shrugged, plopping herself down on one of the deep rooted chairs, licking her fingers free from icing, "Elain sent them away, says she can do better."

"Which you're now all ruining thanks to her cakes," Elain's hands were on her hips and she pointed to you, her apron was coated in flour, her hair was strewn up and messy, and it was clear that she was busy cooking before you and Nesta had pulled her from the kitchen to dance, "They are rather lovely, y/n. You should be thrilled."

Eris' heart fluttered as you turned to him, a hopeful glint in your eye, "Would you like to try one? I think you'd like them," he couldn't speak, he couldn't find the words really.

The firelight made you look ethereal, the golden flames danced in the glistening pools in your eyes, so pristine that he could see himself in them, "I'm afraid that I don't have much of a sweet tooth," your smile faltered, "I'm sorry."

The gaze he felt on his face was enough to make him warm the blood in warning to its owner, Lucien coughed, red faced and watering eyes and you turned to him with worry before he strained the words, "Sorry, crumb," a lie.

"Okay," you whistled, not at all noticing the silent daggers drifting between the two Vanserra brothers, which was odd considering how observant you usually were, perhaps it was the wine floating to your head.

Maybe you were letting your guard down and didn't feel the need to be watching everyone anymore.

Eris watched you retreat into the kitchen with Elain, waiting until you were out of view before he readied himself for Lucien, "I cannot remember a time when you denied yourself a dessert."

"Things change."

"Not with you they don't," Lucien stared after his mate, his eyes full of love and desire, full of possibility and thoughts of the future.

When the news had spread of Lucien and Elain's mating, Eris was truly happy for them, out of everyone he knew his brother was the one most deserving of that happiness, of that type of love. Eris couldn't say the same for himself, he didn't think he deserved any light after the things he had done, after the atrocities he had inflicted over the course of his existence. Having a mate was something he could never allow himself to dream of, everything he touched turned to ask, his fire and mask too cold to allow anyone close enough.

Eris had depleted his worth, he never let anyone touch him, he would cower from it like a wounded animal. Even when he laid with the courtesans, their time together was restricted to just sex, no kissing, no holding one another, just unsatisfying sex that made him bathe in self-loathing whilst his partner relished in the feeling of being fucked by fire.

There was always a part of him that felt unworthy, his father had gone as far to tell him so, multiple times. Every touch sent him spiralling into memories, ones of mutilation and marring, but when you had touched him, when you had wrapped your arms around him and held him close, he didn't feel the need to shrink away or unwind you from his body. All he wanted to do was keep you there forever, and that, that was something remarkable on its own.

You may have been Prythian's darkest secret, but he found you to be the only thing worth fighting for.

His salvation.

It wasn't long after dinner that you had disappeared from view.

It didn't take Eris long to embark on his search from you, excusing himself from the table that had long since gone quiet without your teasing stories of your upbringing and playdates with the High Lord beside you.

Eris didn't think that you would remember your visits to Autumn when you were a child, thinking that you were too young to retain the memories that he had held onto tightly. You were such an innocent little thing back then, and he remembered his wonderment when you had seen the orange ring in your eyes, displaying his own fire to compare the two and enjoying the sound of your giggles far too much.

He was sure that there was talk of a union between the two of you, he remembered the hushed whispers and beaming smiles of pride as both sets of parents gazed at the two of you playing in the corner with Lucien and Rhys adjacent. Though, neither of your brothers could steal your attention away from the other.

It was what he had held onto all of those years apart, in the moment when the light began to dim and the abuse began to accelerate, in the times when he wondered where you had gone. There were gaps in his mind, like memories had been stolen and locked elsewhere because he couldn't truly remember the last time he had seen you before the time he had caught a glimpse of your wingless figure wandering the halls Under The Mountain.

Eris wandered down the halls of the manor, following your scent that clung to the walls, absentmindedly pondering where exactly he would place a portrait of you in the vast home.

The sound of gentle whimpers entered his earshot and he stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the side to listen harder. He knew that the whimpers were coming from you, they weren't scared ones, but ones of pain, and his heart raced in his chest at the mere thought of you being in any form of pain under his roof.

Knocking softly on the door to your room, his old room, the grandest chamber in the entire manor, he waited patiently and listened to the shuffle of your feet and the soft padding of your companion before the door opened to reveal your strained features and a certain hound peeking around the wood, "You left."

Turning from him, you winced, leaving the door open enough for him to let himself inside, "I get these knots under my scars, it feels like I'm being stabbed, and I just need a minute when it starts."

Eris had heard of it, of the pain residing in the bones and muscles of clipped Illyrian females, sometimes so severe that they believe a new pair are pushing their way through the marred crescent moon scars, and breaking a little when they realised that it wasn't the case.

"It's been happening more recently, I think it might be stress related," you huffed out a laugh. It wouldn't be surprising, you had gone through enough to have permanent knots twisting at your shoulders, "Mor or Azriel usually tend to them," your voice was full of longing as you perched on the edge of the chaise lounge before the roaring fireplace. Willow had hopped up onto the plush piece of furniture, spinning in three circles before settling her head into your lap. Eris made a note to scold her for that later.

The tattoo on your arm shone in the golden embers, swirls of shadow and fire intertwining and dancing around your bicep, "I can help."

"Eris," you winced softly as you turned your head to him, "I couldn't ask you to do that, you've done so much already."

"You're not asking," he moved behind you, his fingers hovering over the sheer fabric of your dress that was transparent enough for him to see the muscle contorting under your skin, "If all I can give you is some relief, then I will."

A moment passed as you thought about it, but you nodded, giving him permission to unlace the strings holding the back of your dress together and pull the straps over your shoulders.

Eris' fingers were warm against your skin, you sucked in a breath at the contact, you felt fire spread across your surface as his gently wound his fingers into your flesh, "I want to try something." When you said nothing, he took it as a sign of agreement, he allowed his fire to flow into his fingertips, the heat of them unwinding the knot in your muscles instantly, withering the demon under your skin into the abyss, "Better?"

"Much," you glanced over your shoulder, "Thank you," your eyes were dazed and you smiled at him, your own fingers running down the space between Willow's eyes and down her long nose.

A question had been poking at him the moment he had seen it, the tattoo that glowed in the light, the one that when you looked at it for a moment too long seemed to dance, "That tattoo. It was a bargain?"

A solemn nod, "Yes," you confirmed, "Between Azriel and I," you gazed into the fire and sighed, but you didn't move away from Eris when he took the seat beside you, "We promised that we would always look after one another, that we would never feel harm at the other's hand."

You smiled sadly, "Azriel and I weren't so different, we were both raised by people who didn't particularly want us, burdened with a power we didn't understand. I think we understood one another in a way no one else could, we knew what we needed and when, we basically knew each other better than we knew ourselves," your voice trailed off, "At least, I thought we did," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you blinked hard to rid your vision of their blurry infliction.

Eris watched you shudder, the loneliness and betrayal worming its way into your soul like you had realised the gravity of it all.

Shuffling closer, Eris' thigh brushed against your own, his fingers millimetres away from yours and he gave into his desire to touch you as his index finger curled around your little one. A simple action to show that he understood, and more a singular moment, you let your guard down, the walls tumbled and you felt his power wash over you, kissing your own and sewing together the brittle remnants of your essence.

The room shifted, the world tilted, and you felt a sensation you had never felt before. Looking down, you found black flames licking up your fingers, they danced up your arms and across your connected digits to curl around Eris.

Neither of you moved, you both simply gazed at it, his fire and your darkness moulding together to create a wonderous crackle of flame that didn't burn either of you. It was softly calling out, and you raised your entwined fingers to inspect it carefully.

It was meant to be terrifying, but the personification of your darkness felt more childlike than anything, it was excited and new, and it nestled itself onto both of your limbs.

"I've never seen anything like this before," Eris held your palm atop of his own, his fingers smoothing over your pulse as his eyes found you, examining your face, namely your eyes where the fire in them burnt brightly.

Eris should have cowered away from you, but he loved your touch more than anything, and no matter how fleeting it may be, he would bathe in it for as long as he possibly could. "Neither have I," you tilted your head, realisation was littered on you, "But I've read about it. It's called Carranam, I think." The look in your enlightened eyes told him of the rarity of such a thing.

"You really are a clever little thing, aren't you?"

A sidelong glance and smirk later, you drawled, "You don't even know the half of it, High Lord."

Author's Note

Here she is!!!

Hope you love this and are going just as feral as me right now 🫶🏻

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @iamjimintrash @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla

[soulessjourney]

Of Ice and Snow

Paring: Azriel x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: He just can't seem to let you go

Warnings: ANGST (lots of it, I'm not sorry), death

The cool spring air whistles through the trees, dislodging petals from their place on the branches. The breeze carries them over the balcony and through the open doors where Azriel lies with his head resting on his mate's stomach. Your fingers trail through his hair as he inhales your scent, a mixture of lavender and rosemary filling his senses with each breath.

"My love, one might think you're a dog," you tease, running your nails over his scalp.

His only response is a hum as he breathes in your scent once more. "I can't help but find you absolutely divine so early in the morning," he grumbles, tightening his arms around you. A smile tugs at his lips at the sound of your laughter. For once, Azriel feels at peace in his life, having finally found someone he loves more than anything, and who loves him for who he is.

You let your gaze settle on him as a shiver runs through you from the breeze. Though you want to close the balcony door, you find yourself unable to, not when you're wrapped in Azriel's embrace. "Az, you need to visit your family. It's been some time since your last visit," you murmur, noticing how he tenses and holds you tighter.

Shaking his head, he playfully bites your stomach, causing you to jump slightly. "I'll see them eventually. Right now, I just want to stay here with you a little longer," he says so softly, you almost miss his words.

"You can't isolate yourself here forever, Az. They're worried about you. They want to be here for you, to help you heal," desperation fills your voice as your fingers continue to run through his hair.

"I don't need them, not when I have you. You're all I need, Y/N. I love my family, but they can't help me the way you do," he says, sitting up to look down at you. A frown forms on your lips as you stand and settle between his legs.

Placing your hand on his chin, you tilt his face up to meet yours. "Az, it's been two years," you whisper, running your thumb over his cheek gently, catching the tears that fall. You don't miss the desperation in his eyes as he shakes his head at your words. "You need to let me go, my love. I love you more than life itself, but it's time."

Azriel inhales sharply at your words, feeling like someone has punched him in the gut as the familiar ache in his heart echoes in the room. "I can't. You were everything to me, Y/N. I can't just let you go," he sobs, taking your hands in his.

Azriel's thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on his bedroom door. Cassian pushes it open, his eyes softening as he sees Azriel. Azriel isn't sure how Cassian managed to bypass the wards that shielded their home, but there he was. "Hey, brother," he says gently, his gaze wandering around the room to identify who Azriel was talking to.

Azriel turns his head to look back at you, but finds nothing but empty space. His shoulders slump as he covers his face, letting out a sob. Cassian quickly pulls him into a tight hug, holding his brother close as his pained screams fill the room. "We can visit her. Maybe seeing her will help you," Cassian mumbles.

Azriel nods as Cassian helps him dress. Holding up the flowers, he smiles and guides his brother out of the once-happy home you shared. As they walk through Velaris, Azriel can't help but notice how happy everyone looks. He longs to feel that happiness again, the warmth that filled his chest every time he looked at you. Cassian leads him to the edge of the city, to the top of a hill where a large weeping willow sits, its long limbs hanging limply as the leaves sway gently in the breeze.

Azriel doesn't acknowledge his family standing under the tree, their eyes filled with pity. He despises it. He hates how they pity him. Brushing off their gazes, his eyes land on an object under the tree. There sits a marble headstone, your name delicately carved into it along with your dates of birth and death. He drops to his knees before it and places the flowers atop the stone. Feyre places her hand on his shoulder and squeezes it gently. "We wanted to do something nice for her. After all she went through, she deserved the best view in Velaris dedicated just to her."

Feyre's words bring tears to his eyes as they silently fall down his cheeks. This hill is where they would lay and look up at the stars together. The tree they would sit under during hot summer days, with you leaning against his chest as you talked about your future. His thumb caresses the stone gently before his attention is drawn away. "Papa?" a soft voice fills the air, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees his sweet little girl, with your fiery attitude and features. The only indication of her being his child is the dark hair that falls just above her shoulders and her golden-brown skin. Wrapping her in his arms, he kisses her cheek and holds her close. He doesn't miss the way she looks down at your headstone, curiosity filling her eyes. "Uncle Cassian says this is where mommy is sleeping," she says quietly. "When will she wake? I want to meet her, Daddy," she says, a pout forming on her lips.

Azriel smiles and laughs, biting back another sob. "Sometime soon, my little rose. But for now, we need to let Mommy rest. She went through so much, and she deserves all the rest she can get," he responds, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

She nods and looks back at the stone, waving her small hand. "Bye, Mommy. Sleep well. I hope you have the best nap," Azriel rises with his daughter in his arms and follows his family back down the hill.

Turning back, he sees you standing under the tree, a wide teary smile spread across your face as you look down at him and your daughter. Clasping your hands together, they fall to rest against your legs as you give him a small nod. This is your final goodbye, and his promise to finally live again.

[stxrvel]

the routine (4)

heeeey guys. this is a short one but i wanted to share something with you, since it's been a while! it's getting harder to write, but i found some peace of mind today so i wanted to give you this. hope u like this! love u all and hopefully see u next time. i promise it's gonna get better, just give me some time :(.

summary: trying to settle into life after what happened has proven to be just as difficult for both you and Azriel… pairing: azriel x fem!reader words: 1.5k warnings: still just angst.

part 1: the cliff

part 2: the house

part 3: the court

There was something bittersweet hanging around your house since that argument with your parents. It had been a week since you had returned and, sadly, things didn't feel as good as they used to. You didn't expect you all to be exactly the same either, you and your parents had been through specific times that wouldn't allow them to ever be the same again, especially when they were so reluctant for you to return to the Night Court. Even you didn't know if you would be completely ready to do so in the near future.

One good thing was that, during those days, you had learned to manage your emotions to keep them from running strongly through the bond you shared with Azriel so as not to overwhelm him. Perhaps it was the only thing that had distracted you during that time from rethinking what had happened, even more than your parents' attempts at conversation.

There was also the matter of the shadows. You knew they were Azriel's, you thought they belonged to him, but some of them were constantly accompanying you, and they got scares out of your father from time to time.

Going back to your parents was supposed to bring you peace, but you felt calmer every time you looked at the tattoo running down your arm and the promise Azriel had made to you with crystallized eyes.

“I hear your thoughts all the way over here, you know?”

You lifted your head, blinking faster. The wind caressed your cheeks and moved your loose hair, for a moment forgetting where you were. Shadows gathered around your feet.

“I'm sorry, did you say something?”

Alya had a posture with her arms up, sending you a curious look. Your childhood friend barely needed to hear the tones in your voice to know when you were lying, but she seemed to want to let it go that time. The people around you didn't seem to know how to deal with the conversations when word got out that you were back, but Alya had a talent for knowing when to touch on topics and when not to.

“Several things,” her body moved toward the fruit baskets, taking the last basket in her arms and starting to walk in the opposite direction. “My brother got married.”

“Really?”

“And he has children.”

“Really?”

“Twins.”

You let out a laugh, remembering Alya's rebellious older brother. Your visits to her house were always accompanied by the constant whining and fighting between Trav and his parents because he didn't want to start a family in the near or distant future. He was so insistent about it, even though it was the only thing his parents wanted. According to Alya's accounts, it was impossible for him not to start imagining that future when he met his mate.

“What about you?”

“Ah, no, please, no. There is nothing interesting to tell about my life. I assure you that Mrs. Taylors had a more exciting life for the past few years than I have,” Alya and you arrived at her mother's fruit stand, where she dropped the last basket of goods you had helped her move all morning. You marched beside her, detailing the look of nonchalance she was trying so hard to maintain.

“It couldn't have just not happened. It was… too many years,” despite the boastfulness with which you wanted to carry the conversation, your voice reached to cut off finishing the sentence. Alya turned to look at you, her worried eyes analyzing your face before grabbing your wrist and walking away from the fruit stand.

“You know you don't have to pretend around me, right?”

Alya closed the door to her house behind her. Her family had gotten a very homey house right in the heart of the city's commerce and they kept their very well kept stall right in front of it. Every corner of the place felt like a home because of the great dedication and love her whole family put into it. Even when her brother was missing, it seemed that the house had not lost any strength or presence.

Maybe that's why you felt a wave of longing and nostalgia hit your body, leaving you more vulnerable than you had been the last few days.

“Living with my parents hasn't been so great,” you began, lowering your gaze with a frown. Alya had moved into the kitchen and you had happily settled down on the counter right in front of the stove. Your hands in front of you on the white ceramic were moving nervously, interlocking and clattering your nails on the hard material. “After so long I thought that… I thought that nothing would change when I came back. I thought we'd be even closer together than before, I even thought we'd sleep together. I spent so many nights… alone and so cold. I couldn't bear the thought of going back and having to go through that kind of torturous loneliness again.”

Alya moved in front of you, setting aside the tea brewing to clasp her hands in yours, still twitching in nervousness and anxiety. Her expression was no longer one of dread as she noticed shadows moving around you.

“Is it because of him?”

You nodded, and acknowledging it once again was no less painful.

“It's illogical, I think,” Alya rested her arms on the ceramic, frowning slightly. The warmth of her hands, even though it wasn't a bit chilly in her house, brought you just enough coziness to try to soothe your heart. It reminded you of that moment at the border of Court Day next to Azriel. “After so long without seeing you, why not take advantage of the indefinite time you'll be with them? They stress too much about something that could happen in two decades, even.”

“I've tried to tell them, but I don't think they'll be happy until I tell them I'm not coming back.”

“What about him?” Alya cocked her head to one side, and at your confused look added, “He wouldn't be willing to come?”

“What? No. I couldn't even suggest it to him,” you shook your head as soon as the words left her mouth.

“Why not?”

“His whole life is in that court, Alya. Asking him to give it all up for me just because I wouldn't be willing to do it for him, wouldn't that be too selfish?”

“You must keep in mind that you've been through special circumstances. If he really feels a quarter of the bond love, then he won't mind giving up everything for you.”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore. The tea is going to dry up.”

Alya shifted letting out a gasp of surprise.

“Fine. But you have to keep in mind that it's not just about you now. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to make decisions for him or stop making them because it's not just your feelings you have to be careful with.”

-

Azriel still didn't understand how Mor had convinced Tarquin and Rhysand to meet for that reunion on the day you finally returned home, but he was immensely grateful that she had been able to negotiate the terms down to the last instance. The same thing he would've done.

“Are you ever going to see him again?”

“Not as long as I live.”

The aforesaid appeared at the training camp when Azriel was taking some time away from the crowd of people living in the Town House. He would never have believed that he would rather strain his body until he passed out just so he wouldn't have to meet Rhysand's or Cassian's face at every corner. The blood in his veins burned as if it had poison in it, one step away from starting to spit in their directions as if they were the only ones to blame for everything that had happened.

As if he needed to find a culprit for your departure.

But there was no one to blame. It had been your decision. And every day since then Azriel's sentence became significantly larger and more tedious to carry. The worst part was not even knowing when that ordeal would end. Living with that bitterness in his heart and that emptiness in his soul, he didn't believe there could ever be peace in his relationship with his brothers. No one in the house overlooked that.

"She's fine," Mor changed the subject abruptly, knowing exactly how to appease the flame of his anger.

Azriel nearly melted with his forehead against the punching bag. His shoulders slumped in momentary relaxation, the only relaxation he'd allowed himself to have since you'd left.

“You saw her?”

“Yes, she was spending time with her friends. She was smiling. Laughing. She looked happy.”

Azriel had to fight the whine that wanted to escape his lips. He shook his head in assent, trying to keep the emotions at bay, sending a silent thank you through the masses of air. He felt his heart squeezed inside his chest. Every day was a constant uncertainty because he couldn't even feel her anymore…

Mor had to travel weekly to Summer because one of the terms of their agreement with Tarquin required it and for the last three weeks all Azriel had been waiting for was news about you, to know that you were well, that you looked well, that you were really happy there, at home… away from him.

“You know that doesn't imply that she wants to forget you, right?”

The mere implication made his head fall back on the sack. Azriel tried to nod, feeling the words and his own emotions choking him. His body would become an inert object at some point, that much he knew, because he couldn't spend too long living like this. He couldn't even imagine it, if he was just beginning the period that could last for years, even centuries for all he knew.

“I know…” his voice came out choked, almost mistaken for a sigh. “I know.”

He repeated again to himself.

Azriel dreaded knowing how things were going to be from now on.

-

taglist: @isa1b2h3 @naturakaashi @anuttellaa @tele86 @amysangel @fxckmiup @inloveallthetime @fightmedraco @railingsofsorrow @fandomarchiveilyd

[prythianpages]

NIGHT MASTERLIST

A Z R I E L

↠ A Court of Shadows & Moonlight | rhy's sister oc

series masterlist Summary: Daughter of the Night Court’s High Lord. Half Illyrian. Half High Fae. Rhysand’s little sister. A Dreamer. Only few know her as Valeria and only one knows her truth. She is the moon, a lonely girl cratered by imperfections, and he is her night, the one who helps her shine bright.

↠ Give 'Em Hell | beron's daughter oc

series masterlist Summary: Beron Vanserra is a man with many sinful secrets but there is one that desires to punish him. His daughter. His true firstborn and heir to the Autumn Court.

↠ A Field of Dandelions | witch reader

series masterlist Summary: Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of spring and autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.

↠ I've Been Waiting For You ☁︎ `♡´

[read here] [bonus] Summary: After centuries of waiting, Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate. (this is kinda inspired by Alice & Jasper from twilight.)

↠ Be Safe ☁︎

[read here] summary: you are on your way to Day Court when Azriel stops you. After the two of you fall victim to Cassian's and Mor's teasing, Azriel realizes why he can't just let you go.

↠ When I Kissed the Teacher ☁︎

[read here] Summary: After crushing on Azriel for almost a year, Nesta dares you to kiss him during Valkyrie training.

↠ In My Eyes | Rhysand's Sister reader`♡´

[read here] Summary: Azriel has lost you once and when unseen circumstances bring you back to life, he will not lose you again. Even if it means going against his family.

C A S S I A N

↠ Stuck on You

series masterlist Summary: Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. He thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. This time for good.

↠ Lay All Your Love On Me ☪☁︎

[read here] [bonus] summary: Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends don’t get jealous. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. But you did.

↠ When I Kissed the Teacher ☁︎

[read here] summary: After weeks of flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

R H Y S A N D

↠ Wanna Be Yours | Dawn court reader

series masterlist Summary: When the Night Court and Dawn Court strike a deal, healers in exchange for Illyrian training, you rush at the opportunity to leave your home. You plan to keep a low profile but upon meeting the High Lord of night, your efforts are futile. He takes an instant liking to you and is set on being yours.

↠ The Sun and the Moon ☁︎

summary: Rhysand wants to write you the perfect poem for Valentine's Day and calls Cassian and Azriel for help. [read here]

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Eleven | Azriel x Rhys' little sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

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

Shadows dance around you as you stand in the hall of the townhouse. You hadn’t stepped foot inside of it before. Hardly even paid any attention to it when you were little. You were sure Rhys had to have updated the interior. Because the townhouses on this block were nice, sure, but not nearly as cozy as this one seemed. 

Outside, the city was buzzing with life. So much so that it made you want to shrink away even further. Run to the mountains again, lock yourself away in the house of wind. Cassian and Azriel both resided there….you wouldn’t be alone. But you couldn’t face leaving Rhys, even if he had Feyre to worry about. 

First taking her to the prison, then taking her to the Weaver. He had to be insane. He wouldn’t clue you in on what was happening in the world, but you knew something had to be going on. He made mention of feeling safer once you were in Valaris, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him. But you did hear him. And you would press him on it later. But now you needed to find your own footing again. 

“He had the twins set up a room for you,” Azriel said softly, hand gently resting on your shoulder, “No one can get in this house without permission, Rhys saw to that. And that includes me and Cass.” 

“Cassian,” You breathed out, suddenly remembering the man who was once like a second brother to you, “Where is he?” 

You spin around to face Az, and the door. There’s a look of surprise on Az’s face. The last time you saw Cassian, you’d punched him hard enough to break his nose. You had gotten into an awful fight with one another, that didn’t end until his blood was dripping on the floor. You remembered feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sight of him bleeding everywhere. 

“Sulking,” Az’s lips turned up slightly, “He wanted to go to summer, but he’s since been banned from the court for destroying a building or two.”

“He what?” You questioned, eyes darting back to meet his. 

“Story for another time.”

“Can you bring him here?” You question, not ready to fly at all, let alone to the House of Wind. 

“Why don’t we fly to him?” Az rose his eyebrows in a question. 

You shook your head, backing away from him just a step, “I don’t want to fly.” 

You didn’t want to summon your wings, something you hadn’t done since the day you were taken. You hadn’t allowed yourself that one pleasure, not when your mother’s wings were so cruelly cleaved from her body. Not when you had two long, thick, scars running down the length of your back from where Tamlin’s brothers cut into your flesh, thinking somehow they’d bring out the wings that were once there. 

“You don’t want to fly?” He questioned slowly, “You love to fly.” 

Your head shakes again as he tucks his wings impossibly tighter to his body, as if he was trying to hide them amongst the shadows that dwelled there. He didn’t know in full what happened to you, or at least you hoped he didn’t. You hoped his shadows hadn’t reported to him as it happened, only adding to the chaos of him trying to reach you in time. 

But by the time he made it to that clearing all that was left was two bodies hacked into pieces, one of your mother and one of your maid that accompanied you everywhere, and more blood than should have been possible. You could remember the way the grass was coated with it, soaking into the earth below. You wondered if it left a stain on that land. 

“Come back to me,” Az whispered, stepping towards you, “Leave all of that behind, and come back to me.”

“I’m right here, Az.” 

“Are you though?” He questioned softly, “Because I’m not so sure you are.”

You shiver with the memories that keep flooding your head. The sound of his voice as he begged you to be strong, that he would be there soon. 

Breathe, you had to remind yourself. Breathe, you’re free again. You’re home in Valaris, you’re with Azriel, and he would never let anything bad happen to you as long as you’re with him. You knew that in your very bones. But it didn’t make this any easier. 

Little Star?

Rhys’ voice made you jump, forgetting for a moment that you could still speak to one another. It seemed strange having him in your head after so long apart, you hadn’t even noticed the feeling of his mental claws gently stroking your mind. 

I’m okay. I promise Rhys. 

Az doesn’t seem to think so.

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to send a vulgar gesture down the line back to Rhys. Instead you flopped down in a near by chair. 

Az needs to mind his own business for once. 

Go flying with him. Please.

Go tell Feyre she’s your mate, dear brother, and I’ll think about it. 

He retracted from your mind with that. The feeling of him being gone left you feeling utterly empty. You’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone else in your mind, how full you felt. Full of life, full of thought. Full of emotion and oftentimes joy. 

“Don’t rat me out to my brother,” You grumble at Azriel. 

“I’m just worried,” He admits, stepping to sit on the edge of the chair across from you. 

“You have no reason to worry,” You try to convince him, acting as if you’re brushing off some dirt from your shoulder. 

“I think I have every reason,” He said so softly you almost didn’t hear him, “Why won’t you come flying with me?” 

You shake your head again, “If you witnessed what I did that day, you wouldn't want to fly either.”

Her screams echoed in your ears. Terror ripped through your bones again, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. You remind yourself again and again that you’re safe, and free, and home. Because this place felt more like a home than the House of Wind ever did.  

“You weren’t there, you couldn’t understand,” You told him quietly. 

“Don’t remind me that I failed you, Y/N.”

“You didn’t fail me.”

“I didn’t make it to you in time,” He replies, “I failed you in that way, and in every way after for the last few hundred years. I gave up on you.”

“Everyone did,” You simply shrugged, “I even gave up. I don’t blame you for what happened that day.”

The sound of mighty wings cut off any reply that Azriel could have, before the door was being shoved open and Cassian came quite literally running inside. His hair was half up in a messy bun, dripping with sweat. His shirt was haphazardly thrown on, like he’d been in the throws of training when someone, probably Rhys, told him to get his ass down to the townhouse. He looked around, chest heaving with every breath. He wasn’t out of shape, no he was far from that. But you’d watched him train before, you knew how hard he worked. And you could imagine he was panicked, just by the look on his face. 

He dropped the broadsword he held in his hand, staggering forward a few steps. You gently stood, not wanting to spook him. But he already looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and maybe he had. Because you certainly felt like a ghost of who you’d once been. A ghost of the person that used to laugh alongside Cassian at everything. 

“Y/N?” His voice broke, “Brother, what kind of trick is this?” He turned his full attention to Azirel, demanding answers. 

Azriel said nothing though, only inclining his head towards you. A silent confirmation. Tears filled the general’s eyes as he looked you over, trying to reconcile the girl he once knew when the women standing before him. 

Your own eyes glossed over as you watched him. He shook slightly, so slightly it could’ve been missed, if you weren't paying so close attention to him. He surged forward, so quickly he was nothing more than a blur of dark hair and wings as he scooped you up in his arms, pulling you from the ground. He held you as tightly as he possibly could, sobs leaving his body. You couldn’t stop your own sobs as they shook your whole body. Clutching onto him, you breathed in his scent. Something distinctly Cassian and the smell of sweat. Truthfully, he reeked and needed a bath. 

“How are you alive?” He cried, not so discreetly, “We helped Rhys bury your body.” 

“No, you didn’t. That’s what they wanted you to think,” You try to explain, “It was Michaa that you buried.” 

“But-” 

“Don’t grill her on this, Cass,” Azriel warned, finally speaking. 

Cassian set you down and held you at arm’s length, finally really looking you over. You’d grown taller since the last time he saw you. He assumed in another life, you would've been fuller too, but you still looked gaunt even after a while away from the spring court. Your hair was longer and darker, much like Rhys’. Your eyes weren’t as bright as they once were, but the light was slowly coming back to them. You were slowly coming back to life. 

“I missed you, Cassi,” You sniffed, knowing how much he hated that nickname when you were children. But you couldn’t say Cassian when you first met him. 

“Cauldron boil me,” He groans out, using the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes, “I never thought I’d hear you call me that again.”

“I need a drink,” He says suddenly, making his way into the kitchen, “Az?” 

“Pour me one too.” Az nods his head, sinking into the chair once more. 

He looked older, and yet just as young as you’d seen him the last time. But with the way he held himself, you could tell that he’d seen many horrors in the hundreds of years that you’d been gone. He’d dealt with too much. 

“Me too,” You agree, sinking into your own chair, feeling the weight pulling you down. 

“You aren’t old enough,” Was Cassian’s quick response. 

You raise an eyebrow at him in challenge, “I’m old enough to fuck, therefore I’m old enough to drink.” 

Both males cringe, eyes going wide, wings flaring. You groan out, realizing what you’d just said. You were sure Rhys had figured it out already, why you smelled so much like Lucien when he saw you on Firenight. Why you still smelled faintly like the male.

“I’ll get it myself,” You push yourself up again and push past Cassian, “Territorial male bastards.” 

Both males follow you into the kitchen as you grab for the decanter tucked on the corner of the counter. The room feels almost too small with both of them and their wings closing in on you. You felt trapped again. 

“Who,exactly, were you fucking?” Azriel asked with cold precision. 

“None of your business, Shadowsinger.” You snap back, downing the knuckles’ worth of alcohol. 

Shadows swirl angrily around you. Some listening to Az, some listening to you. The fought one another, colliding in the middle of the kitchen in a black patch. Cassian’s wings were flared wide muscles tensing. 

“You know I can find out,” Az warns. 

“Can you?” You question, “Because you didn’t even know I was alive for the past few hundred years. How are you supposed to find out anything when you couldn’t even do that?” 

You could physically see the moment the words settled down in him. He jerked back as if you’d hit him, wings suddenly snapping in tight to his body. Even Cassian took a step back. You swallowed, feeling bad for throwing that back in his face. You tried to step towards him, but he only backed out of the doorway and made for the front entrance, slamming the door behind him. You heard the beat of wings a moment later. 

“That was a low blow,” Cass warned you, “Even for you, Y/N.” 

Even for you…because you used to fight with Cass and Rhys, viciously, but never with Az. You never felt the need to fight with him, because he was always on your side. He always seemed to understand you. He knew how far to push you. You, however, pushed him too far this time. 

You could feel yourself sink. Head hung low as you looked at the glass in your hands. You didn’t know how to be around people anymore. It seemed odd, being free again. Being back with your family, even though Rhys and Amren were gone in Summer with Feyre. You longed for Mor, who seemed to have made herself scarce, knowing you’d need time to sort out yourself. You wished she wouldn’t have left you alone with the boys though. You were making a complete mess out of everything.

“ Cass, I-” 

“Don’t apologize to me,” He shook his head, “Find Az and apologize to him. He beat himself up for centuries for not making it to you in time. I seem to think he’ll blame himself until the day he dies.” 

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” You admit to him, so softly you aren’t sure if he hears. 

He’s quiet for a time, so very quiet that you can hardly make out the sound of him breathing, “Do what, Little one?” He finally questions. 

The sound of the name that only he called you, brings tears to your eyes. You curl in on yourself, wrapping your arms around you like a protective barrier. Cassian’s dark eyes softened at the sight, his wings drooping slightly. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you thought of how broken Azriel must feel. It made your chest feel as if it was going to break in two. 

“I don’t know how to live anymore,” You reply, utterly defeated. 

“C’mere,” He opens his arms wide for you, dark eyes shining. You step into his arms, feeling their strength wrap around you. For a moment you feel safe again, like the little girl he once knew, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. We won’t let you down again.” 

“You didn’t let me down the first time,” You promised him, “But I think I might be too broken to fix.”

“No, no one is too broken.”

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[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 1

A/ N:I’m horrible at exposition so bare with me through this one. It feels a little clunky to me but this sets up a lot for the rest of the series. This is also the longest thing I’ve written outside of my senior thesis so… I have this series fully planned out and now that I’m back from vacation I should be able to work on it a lot more. 

Anyways, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for it! 

Warnings: Spring court slander (implied trauma), nightmares. Drinking. I think that’s all but feel free to let me know if I should add anything! 

Wc- ~10k

Previous part: here

We’re coming home. 

I ran up to my brother. Desperately pulling on Rhys’ arm and I felt him stumble back into me. He remained frozen, eyes locked on the female in front of him. Her and Rhys were clearly in the middle of a very intense conversation. But I wanted to go home. When I shouted Rhys’ name, his head flickered to me before looking back at Feyre. I saw his body tense, eyes going wide and it was instinct that had me grabbing his arm and winnowing us to Velaris.

The smell instantly calms me in a way I haven't felt in fifty years. Once my vision had fully focused, 

“She’s my mate”, nothing above a whisper. My head snapped over to him. Mate. That explained his reaction. I felt the guilt in my stomach at pulling him away from Feyre. My arms are already reaching to pull Rhys towards me into a hug. As my arms wrapped around him, he sobbed into my shoulder.

This wasn’t the Rhys I had come to know under the mountain. Sob after sob left his mouth and his precious wings dropped to the ground. I knew this was more than the reaction of a male who had his mate taken from him. This was my brother who had to watch his mate be in love with someone else after years of suffering. The cauldron had finally granted him a mate only to have her ripped away from him.

“I’m sorry” was all I could think to say. So many reasons for being sorry. Sorry for all he went through. Sorry for not being strong enough to stop it. Sorry that the female the mother had chosen for him was in love with the High Lord of Spring, and had willingly died for him. Sorry that I stole away what little time he had spent with her. 

Rhys let out another sob against my shoulder and it shook me to my core. I have heard him cry over Amarantha many times but seeing him break over Feyre was enough for me to want to march to spring and drag her to Velaris. But she wouldn’t want that. I know Rhys would have my head on a spike if I even offered. 

We both turned around at the sound of the door opening. Mor stood in silence, eyes scanning over us. Noticing our embrace. She stepped up to us and a soft smile crossed her face. 

“Tell me about your mate, Rhys.”

That was all it took for the flood gates to open. We did more than recall the details about the last few months. Rhys and I cherry picking only the most vital and important details. We kept a few things close to our chests. Those would stay our nightmares alone, Mor didn’t need to be haunted with our ghosts as well. 

Mor sat patiently before she finally interrupted. “She’s really dead?” Rhy freezed at the mention of Amarantha. I lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and answered for him. “Yes. But I don’t think this is over.” Mor just nodded sharply, looking at I both before she launched herself at both of I, arms coming up to wrap around my brother and myself. 

“If either of you ever do something that stupid again, I’ll kill you myself.” Her voice didn’t hold any malice, instead it shook with tears. My heart jumped as I left the weight of her emotions wash over me. The pain in my chest tightened as I realized how much our absence has truly shaken our family. I knew, of course, but seeing it was entirely different. 

The three of us began to settle and I finally had time to get my bearings in the house. As I let the glow of the house wrap around I. A familiar scent caught my attention, and my whole body sang. My head whipped around, looking for the source of that pine and night air, looking for Azriel.  Cas too of course but Azriel was on the front of my mind.  

Mor’s smile tilted slightly. “They should be back soon.” She sighed “They just went to the camps to check on all of them” She paused, stumbling over words  “ when we got that message from you, someone thought the most important thing was letting the camp leaders know that they had a high lord to answer to again.” This didn’t surprise me at all. Of course they would want, need, to fill in the Illyrian warriors that were now back under Rhys command with his return, Cassian having to take over that helm by nature of his position. It would be a fight, but one for a different day. 

         I wanted nothing more than to see the rest of my family and responsibilities be damned. I wanted to see them now. It had already been almost 50 years and in theory another day wouldn’t hurt but the house felt empty without the loudness of Cassian’s voice booming. It felt cold without Azriel’s shadows stirring around. 

As if Mor could sense my unease, she lightly grabbed my wrist and started pulling me deeper into the house. “I have so many books I need to show you.” That was all it took for me to laugh. Mind reeling as I tried to remember the last time I had truly laughed. 

The library was just as I had remembered it. The smell of old parchment and leather filled the space. Fires kept the room warm and light and I wanted that feeling to sink down into my bones. 

Mor gave me the space to just absorb my favorite room in the house. Rhys had given me full reign over how it was decorated. Comfy chairs that could accommodate wings and backless chairs tufted with fabric that looked like they were made of stardust were spread over the large room. The heavy wooden desk I had put in was covered in stacks of books. 

“I put all the ones I knew you would like over there.” Mor spoke up when she saw my eyes lock on the countless books. I felt my throat tighten up with tears at the thought she must have put behind the seemingly small action. It wasn’t uncommon for Mor and I to swap books as we finished them. Mostly so we could sit and talk about them for hours together. Mor and I spent many nights on the couches I had put in, falling asleep with our respective books still clutched in our hands. 

Looking at the stacks, a rough count told me there had to be over a hundred books, easily. 

“Looks like I have some serious reading to do.” I laughed. She beamed a smile at me. 

“Those are just the ones I knew you would like,” She walked over to one of the bookcases in front of the desk. “These are all the others that I need you to read so I can scream about them.”

Three whole shelves in total. It would take me gods know how long to get through them. I voiced that much. Mor waved me off. 

“You have all the time in the world to read them. It doesn’t have to happen all at once, but I’m not letting anything happen to you again. You’ll have time to read them all.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. I turned to look at her and I saw the pink speckling her cheeks and right above her lips, the tell-tale signs that she was trying not to cry. I placed the book I had just picked up and threw my arms around her, squeezing her as tight as I possibly could. She nuzzled her head against my shoulder and all I could do was try to hold her tighter. 

By the time we pulled away from the hug, we were both a crying, giggling mess. I forgot how much I loved spending time with Mor. Regardless of how much I cared for my brothers, Mor and I were two sides of the same coin. Plus the boys wouldn’t sit and discuss the pure filth that tended to grace the pages of the books I devoured. 

“So, what one should I start with?” 

She all but squealed as she started flipping through the piles with me. We organized as we went. Placing them in piles of order that I should read them in. A few of the series I had been following had new installments that would most likely require a reread so those got placed on the back burner for the, now older, favorites she was dying to talk about. From there we were able to pick out one of her more recent favorites that had me itching to crack open immediately. She picked out one from her own pile across the room and the both of us settled into silence, the only sound was the fireplace cracking and pages turning. 

I don’t know how late it was when Rhys softly opened the door to sneak into the room. My eyes were starting to get dry from how little I was blinking, desperate to get through one more chapter before I called it a night. Something I had voiced to Mor about ten chapters ago. Mor who now was asleep on her own couch, her hair pooling over the edge almost touching the floor from the uncomfortable angel her head had fallen into. 

“The books will still be here after you’ve gotten some sleep,” Rhys said in a gentle mocking tone. Mor stirred slightly at his voice but remained sleeping. “Come on, I’d be an awful High Lord, and an even worse brother, if I let you fall asleep in the library on your first night home.” I nodded at his words. Truthfully, I couldn’t care less where I slept but for some reason, I could tell it mattered to Rhys. It would honestly be more normal for me to fall asleep anywhere but my room. Whether it be in the library or the large sectional in the living room or the comfy chairs on the rooftop, I rarely ever slept in my own bed. Rhys had ensured that every surface of the house was as comfortable as possible to account for this but I didn’t push or argue with him as I untucked my legs from underneath me and stood up. I debated leaving Mor to sleep but didn’t want her to wake up all alone. Reaching out a hand, I placed it on her shoulder and gave her a small shake. She groaned but opened her eyes anyway. 

“We’re being banished to our rooms.” I joked and pointed over the Rhys. She let out an even louder groan. 

“Overprotective bat.” Even Rhys laughed at her words. 

“Come on, before he carries us himself.” I held out a hand and I could see Mor contemplating just rolling back over and going back to sleep but she grabbed my hand. Pulling slightly, I helped her to her feet and she rolled her neck slowly. No doubt trying to work out whatever kink was starting to develop due to half of her head hanging off the thin couch. The three of us walked down the hallway to our rooms. Sleepily stumbling to doors. We reached Mor’s first and before she slipped in, she gave me another tiny hug and another to Rhys. 

“I love you guys,” Sleep was evident in the way she almost drunkenly stumbled over her words. I returned the sentiment and she was slipping into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her. 

Rhys and I stood outside her bedroom for a little longer, until we saw the light from under the door flicker out. Eventually, we continued walking until we got to my door. There was a slight pause as I turned the handle. Rhys and I would normally be curled up in my bed under the mountain by now. I vaguely thought about asking him to stay the night. Not that I think either of us were truly going to be able to sleep. As tired as I felt, I was afraid that if I closed my eyes for too long I was going to wake up and this was all going  to be a cruel dream.    

Rhys seemed to pick up on my hesitancy. “I can walk in with you. If you’re…”:

“Please.” I interrupted him. He gave me a soft smile and gestured for me to open the door. 

Nothing was out of place. The room smelt like my favorite perfume and when I looked around, there was no dust to be found. Someone had spent the time still cleaning the room while I was gone. I don’t know why that touched me as much as it did but as I looked around I felt all the unshed tears finally starting to take its toll. A sob ripped its way from my chest and Rhys’ arms were around me in an instant. 

He shushed me softly, rocking me slightly. “We made it. We’re free. We’re back home.” He repeated over and over until I had cried myself out. I pulled out of his embrace and wiped away the stray tears. Shaking my head at my outburst I muttered a thank you to my brother. 

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be just across the hall if you need anything,” He says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nodded and he gave me a sad smile as he walked out of the room. 

I wandered over to my dresser, fished around until I pulled out the first pair of pajamas I came across. I hastily pulled my clothes off and as I went to pull the nightgown over my head, I realized the layer of grim that was clinging to my skin. A bath was definitely needed before I climbed into my warm bed.        

The tub was already full and scalding hot by the time I had finished pouring in an obscene amount of oils and bath salts. Sinking in, I sighed out in relief as the heat enveloped me. Muscles in my neck and back released as I leaned my head against the edge of the tub. I picked up the sponge on the edge and started to wash myself off. After countless minutes of scrubbing, despite my raw skin I still didn’t feel clean. Huffing, I threw the sponge across the bathroom and pulled my knees up to my chest. I just sat curled up around myself until the water started to cool down. And it was still another handful of minutes before I could manage to pull myself upright and step out of the bath. I shivered at the temperature difference. Hugging my towel closer to my body, I quickly ran bacon into my room and threw the nightgown over my head. I burrowed underneath my comforter and tried to close my eyes. 

I tossed and turned until I started pleading with the mother, the cauldron, anyone that would listen to let me go to sleep. I was bone tired but everytime I closed my eyes something made me snap them open a few moments later. Every creek of the house had my ears prickling. Has the house always been this loud? I wondered how I never noticed it before. How I ever slept with all the noise. It was then I remembered that, if my room truly haven't been messed with since I had left, that I still had a sleeping tonic from when I had cracked a few ribs. Fae healing or not, ribs always were a pain to heal. Majda had given me a tonic to make me sleep so I could actually heal without Cassian making me laugh them out of place. I flung myself out of bed and padded over to my vanity. The small bottle of purple liquid still sat , half drank/ Uncorking it, I prayed that sleeping potions didn’t go bad and took a tentative sip. Fighting back a gag at the foul taste, I put the cork back on the top and walked back to my bed. The medicine had its desired effect. Not a minute later I felt my eyelids flutter close and  this time they stayed closed until I could sense the sun high in the air signaling the next day had come. 

Knocking on my door made me finally crawl out of bed. Goraning at having to leave the warmth, I flung open the door and was staring a slightly startled Rhys in the face. He held a small tray in front of him, stacked high with various foods. 

“I didn’t want to wake you up. You slept through breakfast and lunch and I  didn’t know what you would want so I brought a little of everything.” He spoke the words so fast that in my half awake state I struggled to keep up with them. I gestured for him to come in so he could place the tray on my bed. 

“Have you eaten?” I raised an eyebrow at him as I picked up a large strawberry.. His look told me that he had, in fact, not eaten. I pointed to my bed. “Sit and eat.” I barked, mouth full of strawberries. He laughed at some silent joke and picked up a piece of toast covered in some fruit jam. We were quiet as we ate, picking apart the platter he had brought in. Truly too much for one person to eat. Once we were both full, I wiped off my hands on my comforter and finished swallowing my last bite before I asked Rhys. “What do you have on the agenda for today?” He stilled and picked at a piece of lint on his sweater. 

“Not a lot. I’m trying to organize a meeting with the High Lords of the other courts to just debrief after everything.” He shrugged like that wasn’t going to be the hardest meeting to organize. “There are some young high lords and with all the aftermath of this…We just need to all talk this out.” I nodded along with him. The courts would need some time to bounce back after this but from the way things had seemed under the mountain, we didn’t have that time. As much as I prayed to be wrong about this, war was on the horizon and we would need to have the courts functioning as much as possible if we were going to stand a chance against Hyberns forces. Amarantha was just a taste of the power that he had, an experiment of sorts. 

Mor knocked on the open door before she walked in and plopped down next to Rhys. She took note of our stern faces but didn’t say anything. Instead, she swiped one of the sandwiches off of the tray and shoved half of it in her mouth in one bite. “You, me, library.” Was all she said before she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. 

“Well I know what you’re doing for the rest of the day.” Rhys laughed as I started to scramble to get dressed. I was about to start changing when I noticed he hadn't moved from his perch on my bed. “Get out!” I scratched at him and all but pushed him out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. His laugh echoed off the empty halls outside my door. 

In record time, I was running down the halls to the library. Mor was already sitting, her book curled against her chest. She didn’t look up from  her book as she pointed to the one I had abandoned last night. “Butt in chair, book in hand.” She said and I laughed at her tone. I walked over to my couch and picked up the book,  the spine slightly cracked from laying face down most of the day. 

I must have finally gotten to the juicy part of the book because I felt Mor Peering over the edge of her own book. My poker face was completely gone as I sunk in every word. “No. Absolutely not!” I screamed, rereading the last few pages to make sure I was seeing it correctly. 

“Did you finally get to..” I held up my hand to shush her. She laughed and threw one of the throw pillows at my head. I only put my book down long enough to catch the pillow, using it to now prop up my arms. Once I had confirmed I had not actually gone crazy, Mor and I started discussing the plot twist that had been the source of my outburst. She accidentally let a detail slip that had me scrambling back for the book, desperate to catch up to the point she had been talking about. This went on for hours until I saw her perk up. She turned to face me.

.

“They’re back.” Was all Mor said, still flipping through the book perched on her knees. I didn’t say anything else before I put my own book to the side and all but ran from the room. Her laugh bouncing off the walls behind me. 

I could smell him before I saw him. That deep cedar and cold rain smell that I could wrap myself in. Rhys tried to say something to him but stopped when he realized he no longer held his audience's full attention. Azriel’s shadows ripping across the room and curling around my feet like a small cat. I could have purred at the feeling, tears started to peek along the corners of my eyes at the familiar feeling. 

When I felt movement next to me, I felt momentary disappointment at the fact that Azriel was not standing in front of me. Strong arms wrapped around my middle and started to swing me in a circle, I felt joy so strong it almost hurt. Cassian sat me back down on my feet and when he went to speak, I wrapped my arms around him in return. We stood embracing each other, slowly rocking from foot to foot. 

“Missed you, Princess.” He muttered into my head. I just nodded, my cheek too squished against his chest to say anything. “I think Mor was going to kill us if she had to be the only girl living in the house. Amren can only handle so much damage control and the coward spent most nights at her apartment.” He nudged my shoulder as he spoke, pulling a laugh from me. It felt good to laugh again. My cheeks hurt in the perfect way at the smile that stretched over my face. 

A throat being cleared from across the room pulled my attention from Cassian. I could have melted into a puddle right then and there. Azriel stood in front of me, a true smile gracing his face. I squealed and rushed over into his arms. He didn’t swing me around like Cassian did, but he held me just as tight. It would have felt so right to crash my lips against his and he released me from his arms, but that wasn’t my relationship with Azriel. Those thoughts were nothing more than what I needed to make it through the events of the last fifty years. Azriel looked at me like I was a sister, nothing more. Rhys’ little sister on top of that. His high lord's little sister. He was the one who had coined my nickname centuries ago. When the trio first formed their own little band of brothers. I had gotten pulled in by proximity, Azriel said it one day and it had stuck ever since. “Hi Princess.” He said, tone polite but I could hear the joy behind them. I tried not to blush as I heard his voice. Shaking the things I had imagined that voice saying to me out of my head out, I mustered up a pathetic, “Hi, Az.” 

It had never felt this awkward around him. Cursing myself mentally for thinking of all the things I would say to him when I finally saw him again. None of those words made their way out of me as the two of us stared at each other. “I’m glad you’re home.” Was all he said his words short but I felt the sincerity leaking from them. Biting down the flutter in my heart,  I gave a short nod and wrapped my arms around myself. His eyes tracked the movement but didn’t say anything. 

Cass clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, breaking the tension that I felt take over the room. “We’ll see you at training tomorrow,” I raised an eyebrow to him. “Don’t give me that look, I’m guessing you didn’t have time to… while you were gone. I can’t have my sister not able to defend herself. We would be the laughing stock of Pyrthian.” He smiled as I made a big show of rolling my eyes . 

So I joined them for training the next morning. And the next. Cassian slowly ran through the basics until I was nothing more than a mile of sore bones and sweat by the end of our sessions. I would shower and hang out with Mor. Rhys was suddenly very busy as he tried to catch up on all the events he missed in his court over the last fifty years. He made more and more trips to Hewn City, leaving Mor free to run around with me. Before I knew it a month had passed and all of us were sitting around the table for one of our family dinners. 

Jokes were flung around the table and no one noticed  the way Rhys and I sat back, sinking it all in. More than once I caught his eyes from across the table and all we could do was smile at each other. Is it bad to say that I missed this? I spoke into his head as Mor and Cassian had started raising their voices at each other, getting into a slight argument over some random events of the day. I did too. Even when we both flinched at the volume Cassian’s voice had risen too. Even Azriel had started to chime in before Mor shot him down with a withering look. I laughed despite myself at his expression. I shut up when that look was turned to me. 

The conversation fell into a natural lull and everyone was happily eating. Rhys hissed at something, shaking his arm that bore the bargain mark. Something must have prickled down the weird connection. 

“I still can’t believe you let her go with Tamlin.” Cassian said, stabbing something on his plate with a little more force than necessary. Rhys bared his teeth at his brother. 

“I didn't have much of a choice, now did I?” He slumped back into his chair, still rubbing his hand. “She already hated me because of this stupid bargain but if I had stolen away from the male she was willing to die for…”

“But Rhys. It’s Tamlin. No one would have slighted you, not after…” Cassian’s gaze flickered to me. As hard as I was trying to tune out the conversation, I still felt my chest tighten at their words. Rhys would have never taken Feyre without her permission, well at least outside of the bargain but we both knew that was simply a means to an end. Regardless of how much it must hurt to have another person he cared about over in spring, Rhys wouldn’t take that choice away from her, no matter how concerned he might be for  her safety. 

“How  was it seeing the brute again?” Amren asked and the table silenced. I froze and kept my gaze locked down at my plate. Suddenly losing my appetite completely.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I itched at my wrist, tugging at the fabric that felt too tight around my wrist. Azriel placed a comforting hand over mine. I flashed him a thankful smile.

“You haven’t wanted to talk about it for over a century.” She prodded. 

“And she shouldn’t have to if she doesn’t want to,” She took a breath like she was about to press the issue. “Why does it matter to you anyways?” Azriel hissed at her. Amren had the decency to take a hint and held up her hands in surrender, a smirk plastered on her face. 

We all sat in silence for the rest of dinner. Even Cassian knew better than to make any comments due to the tension in the air. Everytime he would go to say something, Rhys would shoot daggers at him. Eventually I got sick of it and threw my napkin down. 

“Fine. You want to know what it felt like?” I shouted at Amren. Everyone flinched. “I am terrified for that girl. Because I know what loving Tamlin does to someone. Seeing him felt just like you whenever someone mentions the prison.” She paled at my words and I didn’t spare her another look as I pushed away from the table, storming out. I know I would regret my words later but sometimes Amren needed a taste of her own medicine. She just loved to push everyone buttons because we were all too scared to really piss her off. 

I flung myself into my bed, still fully dressed. I groaned into my pillow. Apologies could wait until tomorrow. A knock from the door had me fighting back swears. Stomping over to the door, I ripped it open and a very startled Rhys was standing in the hallway, hand raised like he was about to knock again. 

“I wanted to check on you.” The high lord said.

“I’m fine” I gritted out and he raised an eyebrow at me. I let out a heavy sigh. 

“I know I shouldn’t have taken the bait but I don’t want to talk about him, right now or ever, if I can avoid it.” Rhys’ eyes held sympathy and he just contuined standing in the hallway, letting me rant. “I mean it’s been so long. I didn’t want to talk about it then. No one’s asking how you feel about Tamlin.” I paused and Rhys just shrugged. 

“If she’s happy with him, then it’s not my place to try to save her. If she wants to come here, then I’ll happily let her do that too.” 

I stared at him like he had gone crazy. “What about the bargain?” He shrugged again

“It was necessary at the time. I don’t actually plan on cashing in on it. She’d only hate me. More.” I could feel his despair. The self loathing held behind those words. 

“Rhys.” He shook his head.

“I’ll never take away her choice in this. Just because she’s my mate doesn’t mean I have a claim to her. Regardless of every nerve in my body screaming otherwise. It’s her life. She’s given more than enough to deserve whatever, whoever, makes her happy.” I went to hug him and he stepped out of my reach. “As much as I appreciate it, I don’t need your sympathy for making the right decision.” He tried to play it off as a joke but I knew he truly meant it. 

“Well if you ever want to talk about it…”

“Like how you want to talk about Tamlin.” He cut me off. My mouth set into a thin line and I took that as a dismissal of the conversation. Fine. I just wanted to crawl into bed anyway. 

“Well now that we’ve established that. Anything else you want to say, oh mighty High Lord.” 

“No.” 

“Good. Good night.” I said and swiftly shut the door in his face. I love my brother but he really knows how to get under my skin sometimes. I know deep down I’m mad because he called me out. I can’t expect him to pour his heart out to me when I won’t do the same thing. 

I threw the covered back and crawled in, still fully dressed. Mind reeling. I wouldn’t even know where to start with talking to anyone about Tamlin. And what good would it do? All of that was in the past and talking about it would only piss everyone off all over again. We had just barely avoided attacking the spring court when I came home. I don’t want to drag Feyre into this now that she’s there. 

I managed to finally fall asleep, tossing and turning. Dreams filled with deep swirling greens and the sound of growls. 

When I woke up in the morning I could tell it was later than normal. The sun is slightly higher in the air. Snapping out of my sleepy haze I cursed as I jumped out of bed. I was late for training and Cassian wasn’t going to let me forget that. 

Throwing on my clothes, mentally screaming at all the buckles on my training leathers. I knew not eating was going to come back to bite me in the ass but I simply didn’t have time as I sprinted through the house. In my haste, I passed a grinning Rhys. The events from last night seemingly forgiven as he taunted me. 

“Maybe he’ll consider this your warm up today.” I held up a crude gesture and he only laughed harder.  

I made it to the training rink in record time. My hands were on my knees as I panted. The stitch in my side was already screaming at me but I forced myself to stand up straight as Cassian sauntered over to me. The split in his lip told me Him and Azriel had gotten started without me. 

“You’re late, princess.” I flinched at his tone. He surveyed me. “I think double drills should be enough to make sure that doesn’t happen again. I cursed, I couldn’t get through the routine once without limping back to the house. Two would kill me and he knew it. 

“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” He held out his hand “Consider this it.” He stepped away from me, going back over to Azriel. I know Cassian wasn’t actually mad at me. He also knew that if he went easy on me, I wouldn’t take training seriously. I appreciated the routine of it all and I really did need it. So sighing I got started. 

I was halfway through my second set when Cas called me over. 

“Lesson learned?” He simply asked. I nodded. Still trying to take in breath. My muscles are screaming at me for still being vertical. 

“Good because Cas and I decided it’s finally time to step this up a notch. You’re almost the same as you were before. Now it’s time to get your powers involved. Relearn how to fight with those.” Azriel spoke. My stomach sank. This was something I hadn't considered. It was a stupid oversight on my part and I didn’t know how to get myself out of this so I responded with the truth. 

“I don’t have my powers.” 

“Okay, nice joke” Cassian cut in.

“I’m not joking. I can’t use them anymore.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” 

“I can’t use my powers” I grumble. “They’re still in there but it’s like I’m fighting against a wall.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at that revelation. 

“How do you know?” 

“I don’t know but all I know is I tried to use them… you know… And they wouldn’t come. Everyone had theirs back so I know it wasn’t the curse. So for whatever reason I couldn’t make them work.” It was embarrassing to admit. My powers had been the only truly useful thing I could rely on in the training ring. 

“Have you tried since then?” I nodded. Not so much of a glimmer of them since I came home. I told Cassian that much and he swore under his breath. 

“We could always take you to see Helion.” I shook my head at his words. 

“I don’t want to burden him with more problems. He has enough to do in his own court. I’ll figure it out, but for now I’ll just have to fight the old fashioned way.” 

Neither of the males in front of me seemed to be happy with my response but Cassian jumped right back in.

“Fine. But that means that you have a lot more training to do. If you had your powers you would be fine. But in just plain hand to hand combat, you’d get your ass kicked by anyone with any skill.” 

I glared at him but I knew he was telling the truth. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him into the center of the ring and tossed him one of the training swords. Heavy but they wouldn’t do nearly as much damage when he hit me. 

“Do your worst then.” Was all I said before he charged at me. 

“You’re sloppy.” Cassian barked as he knocked the sword out of hand again, again. I held my wrist as it twisted at a weird angel. My cheeks heated with anger and I went to wipe the sweat that had formed on my brow with my other, only to find it just as damp. I recoiled in disgust and Cassian laughed again. 

“You try getting your shit kicked in for fifty years and see how you bounce back.” I spoke and I saw his face pale. Shit. “Joking Cas, it’s okay.” 

I shook my head. “I am sloppy. And that’s why I’m still training with your annoying ass. You’ll have me back in tip top shape.” He relaxed slightly, but his shoulders still wouldn’t lower. 

I sighed and did the only thing I could think of as he turned away from me. I jumped onto his back, being mindful of his wings and pulled him down to the ground. The air left his lungs in a whoosh as I took us both onto our sides, I quickly bounded to my feet, ignoring the sting in my side from the impact. 

“Come on you big Illyrian baby.” I raised my arms slightly in front of me and a flicker of something crossed Cassian's face and I saw him make the decision to play along. To pretend that this was just a normal day of training. He leapt to his feet with a surprising amount of grace. 

“If you want a fight, you got it princess” He said with a smirk. We both stood in the middle of the training ring, circling each other, waiting  for the other to make the first move. Swords forgotten off to the side. I saw the slight twitch of his left side and I made the choice to ignore the fake out, and went to block my right side. It was the right choice, the blow aimed toward my right side bounded off my forearm, it still stung but at least it didn’t put me on my ass like it would have had it made contact. I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm back, pulling him closer towards me and pushing on his back. He only stumbled for a second before he regained his footing. That kick had put me off balance more than I anticipated and it was easy for Cassian to grab the leg that lowered too slowly, grabbing my ankle and yanking me to my stomach. I yelped at the contact. He laughed loudly as I held my hand up in surrender. I rolled over onto my back with a groan. 

“Give me a few days back in training and I’ll have you on your ass, General.” He laughed even harder.

“In case you forgot, princess, you could barely do that even on your best days. Give yourself more time.” 

“A week.” I responded with my own laugh. Whatever I had done, it worked. Cassian’s shoulders had fully relaxed and I noticed the smile gracing his face finally reached his eyes. I noticed Azriel starting a few feet away. I sat back on my elbows, propping myself up. “Want a round, Az?” I teased and was rewarded by him rolling those big hazel eyes. 

“I think you’ve hurt yourself enough for today.” Was all he said before he turned to stalk away  from the ring. I laid back down in the dirt of the ring at his retreating figure, sighing heavily. Cas comes to stand over me, offering me a hand up. I grab it, pulling myself up. 

“Give him some more time to come around. This was harder for him than the rest of us.” He was suddenly serious. “He’ll get there, but you know him. Broody as they come.” He nudged me with his wing and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the gesture. I nodded in understanding and the pair of us walked back up to the house. 

This was harder for him than the rest of us. The words bounced around my head for the rest of the day. It makes sense. Azriel would have seen this as him failing. Not only failing me but his High Lord. Regardless of how hard everyone must have tried to comfort him, he would always blame himself, and only himself, for Rhys and I going under the mountain.  

It also explained why Azriel seemed to be avoiding me. Besides that first awkward meeting, he always managed to find an excuse to not be in the same room as me if he could avoid it. I’ve been home for almost a month now and I had hardly seen him. The few times I ran into him in the hall, he would quickly and politely brush me. Not saying anymore than a few words in greeting or response to a question I might have asked him. Be patient. I could do that. But it was hard to ignore the sting in my chest every time he brushed me off. We were practically joined at the hip before I left. I fit seamlessly into the fold of the trio but now Azriel felt like a stranger again. 

My mind was too full of thoughts to begin to try to settle down, so after I bathed the dirt and sweat off, I changed into a loose nightgown that almost went to the ground and padded off for the library. When I got to the door, it was slightly cracked, light from the fireplace filling even the hallway with its warmth. It was like the room itself was calling to me and as I stepped in. Above the crackle of the fire, I made out the sound of pages turning, of fabric rustling as someone shifted on one of the couches in the room. I searched for the source of the sound and found none other than Azriel lounging with a book propped open on his lap. He didn’t seem to notice me until one of his shadows snuck off his lap and slithered over to my feet, wrapping around them like they always did. 

He closed his book and glanced over to where I stood in the doorway. Something flashed across his eyes that I couldn’t decipher before it faded away. He cleared his throat and said a generic greeting. My heart sank as I saw him mark the page he was on in his book, and place it on the end table to his right. I tried not to pout as I said. “Don’t leave on my account.” I said, keeping my tone light to hide the oily feeling pooling in my stomach. The shadow at my feet seemed to curl in tighter to me as Azriel went to stand. 

“I was just finishing up anyways.” He couldn’t seem to meet my eyes. “The rooms all yours.” 

“Azriel…” I don’t know what I was going to stay. Maybe beg him to stay with me, maybe start shouting at him but I know none of that would help, would only make both of us feel worse. Be patient with him. So I bit back all the words I wanted to say to him and simply said. “Good night.” He called to me as he headed out of the room, his shoulder just barely brushing mine as he passed by me. The room suddenly felt too cold so I willed the house to put the fire out and walked out, heading back to my own room suddenly feeling very tired. 

I crawled under my covers and tried to push the thought of Azriel’s eyes out of my mind as I drifted off into a fitful sleep. 

 I sensed it. I was back under the mountain. Nonono. This can’t be happening but I saw it all out in front of me. Rhys was in front of me, standing on the dais with Amarantha standing next to him. I almost broke down, knees buckling, when I saw that all-too-familiar mask of indifference grace my brother's face. I tried to call out but my voice wouldn’t come out, feet locked in place as I stood and helplessly watched as the red haired female reached a finger under Rhys chin. Bile raised in my throat as I saw her whisper something to him, something I couldn’t make out. When I tried to reach out for his mind, I was met with nothing more than those iron thick walls he built up. Amarantha’s eyes locked on mine and it was like she set me on fire. My skin burned, the string of her breaking my bones, of the attors smacking me down everytime I said something out of place. Finally I seemed to find my voice, but only a scream ripped from my throat at the phantom pain. Her red lips curled into a cold smile. “Welcome back pet.” another scream made its way from my throat. 

I flung myself into a sitting position, jolting awake from the nightmare. My lungs ached as I gulped down air. My skin still burned and I threw off my blanket, pulling my knees to my chest. I almost screamed again as I realized the presence of something, someone, in my room. 

Azriel’s soft voice said my name. “I heard you scream, I thought…” My eyes finally adjusted and I could make out his frame. “I’m sorry. I'll go.” 

“No.” I rasped, throat raw. I must have actually been screaming. That explains his presence in my room, kind of. My hand went up to my neck attempting to rub away the pain in my chest. The pain didn't stop the request that bubbled over my lips. “Please. Stay.” I saw him go still, turning back around to me. Even in the dark, I was able to find his eyes, wide open as they locked on mine. Tears welled up in my eyes and I tried not to sniffle. 

He whispered my name again. “Just go back to sleep.” He was starting to turn around again. My body reacted faster than my mind, I reached over the large bed, reached for his arm. “Please.” It was all I could get out. Please stay. Please talk to me. Please can we pretend that all of this didn’t happen and please be my best friend again. So many things tied into that one word. It’s almost like he sensed it and he sighed, relaxing into my touch. 

“Only until you fall back asleep.” He sounded exhausted and his tone made me feel heavy all over again. He still shuffled in behind me. I tried not to think about the fact that when I went to tuck myself into his chest that I was met with bare skin. Resisted the urge to trail my hand down along those perfect abs, to the deep vee that I knew laid beneath them. I just buried myself deeper into his side and I felt his wings wrap around me, shielding me from the world around us as I drifted back to sleep. The smell of cedar lulling me into a dreamless sleep. 

I woke up feeling more rested than I had since I’ve been back home. I knew he wouldn’t still be here but my hand still reached out to the side of the bed he’d been in, still warm. He had stayed. That explains why I slept so well. His scent lingered in the room and not caring how desperate it might have seemed, I buried my face into the pillow he had been laying on. I let his scent surround me and calm me down. A knock on the door had me groaning but sitting up anyways. 

‘You didn’t come to breakfast so I wanted to check on you…” More said as she opened the door, she looked around as she spoke and her face fell slightly before continuing. “I had Nuala make you a tray in case you were hungry when you woke up.” She held a small wooden tray in her hand and I beamed at her, touched by the small gesture from my cousin. 

“Thank you.” Was all I could get out, tears threatening to fall at the kindness in her action. 

“I heard you last night.” She spoke quietly as she walked to the edge of my bed, sitting down at my feet. “I know I wasn’t there, but if you ever need to talk, or just someone to listen to. I’ll always be here.”

“You don’t need that stuff in your head too. It’s bad enough it's mine.” 

She said my name in a concerned tone and I waved her off. “Don’t we have some books you need me to finish?” I said, deflect. She sighed sensing she wouldn’t win this one.

“Maybe we should take a break from the library today.” My face dropped as I thought of what I could possibly do with my day if it wasn’t reading with Mor. “I need to go shopping for some stuff, start looking around for Solstice presents and I haven't had a proper shopping buddy…” She trailed off, giving me a full megawatt smile. 

“Alright let's go, before you start batting your eyelashes at me.” I playfully rutted her in the ribs and she threw her arm over my shoulder.

I haven't gone out to the shops in Velaris since I’d been back home. A part of me had forgotten how beautiful my home truly was. I tried not to stare in awe at the new vendors, the smell of food lingering in the air. People walked to and fro, running errands for the day. Mor and I had found one of my favorite dress shops and all but pulled me into the shop. 

The designer was known for her slightly scandalous fashion. Floor length gowns with cut outs that left little to the imagination but were still heartbreakingly gorgeous. By the time Mor and I left, our arms were full of bags and I still had a few more dresses to pick up that needed to be altered. 

We flitted in and out of more stores until the sun was starting to sink behind the horizon. When I noticed where we were I almost suggested we stopped by Rita’s but my shoulders were starting to hurt from the weight of the bags and Mor wouldn’t be able to winnow us into the house if we did have a few drinks nor did I even want to think of carrying them back. 

So when we finally checked out from the last store, Mor having purchased a honestly hideous printed shirt for Cassian, we joined arms and started the walk back to the townhouse. 

After dropping off all of my new things in my room, I knew I had to go apologize to Rhys. Armen could wait, if I ever bothered to say sorry to her. She wouldn’t hold it against me either way. Our relationship was more antagonist than anything else anyways. So I put the clothes into my closet and padded off to find Rhys.

Eventually I found him in his study. He didn’t look up as I closed the door behind me. I called his name. Still nothing. So I walked over to his desk. I noticed he was clutching a letter in his hand, holding it so tightly that it was starting to crinkle. I went beside him and soothed the letter out of his hand. My face paled as I read carefully over the words.

Feyre was marrying Tamlin. 

The letter wasn’t an invitation. Just a simple announcement that would be extended to all high lords when one of them married. I dropped the piece of paper like it had burned me. I grasped for the right words to say to my brother, but when he looked up at me they all faded away. Agony I had never quite seen in them before knocked the breath from my lungs. 

“I know I have no reason to be upset. I should just be happy that she’s  happy. But I can’t find it in me.” He stared at the tattoo on his hand. “I’ll never see her again. Not after she marries him. I might get glimpses at balls but I’ll never really be able to see her.” Never be able to see her because we both know how Tamlin treats the people he loves. The gilded cage Feyre will be locked in the moment she says “I do”. I gave myself a moment to mourn for the girl. But I know there was nothing either of us could do in this situation. So I did the only thing I could think of. I strolled over to the bar cart in the corner of the room and poured both of us a few fingers of whiskey. He eyed it carefully as I passed him the glass. He took it out of my hands and knocked it back in one fluid motion. I did the same with mine. Holding out the glass for more, I poured him another. We just sat drinking until the familiar flush started to creep onto my face. Rhys hasn't said much, neither of us have. Content with drinking away the pit in both of our stomachs. 

“I love her.” He said after he finished his third glass. He didn’t sound. In fact this was  the most sober I think I had ever heard him

“I think I’ve loved her since I first saw her in the spring court. But I know I loved her when she offered herself in place of Tamlin. This brave human offering to save our entire world, who before that moment would have let her tear her to shreds.” He grimaced, as if the very thought disgusted him. 

“So tell her.” I said with a shrug. He glared at me. 

“You know it’s not that easy.” I did know. But I wanted him to be happy. I didn’t want him to have to sit here and drown out his sorrow while Tamlin got to play hero. Tamlin, who sat around while my brother risked his neck time and time again to save Feyre. He slumped down into his chair and laughed at the ceiling. 

“The mother can be a real bitch sometimes. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this good fortune.” His voice was bitter and truly didn’t know how to respond. I went to pour him another glass but he put a hand over his glass. 

“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing. I think I need to go to sleep before I march into the Spring Court and drag her out. Regardless of if she’ll hate me or not.”  His eyes soften as he looks at me. “You should head to bed soon too. I don’t need to look into your mind to know you’re going a million miles a minute right now.” 

He wasn’t wrong. My thoughts had been roaring around in my head since I read that letter. It wasn’t hard to put myself back into Feyre’s shoes. My heart panged for this selfless girl. How long until the cracks in the foundation started show and she would be pulled into the storm that is Tamlin. I nodded in acknowledgement of his words. Putting the cork back onto the glass bottle. I rose from my chair, rolling my stiff shoulders. Rhys and I both returned to our respective rooms. 

Hard as I tried, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned but couldn’t get comfortable. I had run out of the sleeping tonic a few nights before so I just accepted that sleep wasn’t going to come. I made no move to get out of bed though. I just curled my covers tighter over me. When the sun peeked through my curtain. I didn’t get up. I didn’t go to training. I didn’t even get up from my bed until mid afternoon, just going far enough to use the bathroom. Immediately crawling back into the warmth of my bed. 

Someone had knocked on the door and I pretended to be asleep when I heard the door click open. I ignored the smell of cedar until I felt a shadow sweep across my bed, settling by my face. If it knew I was asleep, it didn’t respond to its master. But it also didn’t leave when my door softly shut. I just turned to face away from the ripple of blackness. Not wanting to deal with the comfort the small action granted me. 

When I finally left my bedroom the next day, I learned Rhys had behaved similarly yesterday. The two of us floating around the house. We were bad enough that the others cleared out of whatever room we were in. I couldn’t find it in myself to really care enough to knock it off. 

This continued for the remainder of the week leading up to the date of the wedding. I expected the same behavior as I woke up the morning of the big day. But when I walked into the kitchen, Rhys was sitting around the table with Cassian and Azriel, head thrown back in laughter. He turned his head to me as I walked in and smiled at me.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” I grunted at him. Walking to the fridge I pulled out a bowl of fruit and swiped a couple pieces of sliced strawberry. He hummed in response and Cassian spoke up.

“We’re going to the cabin later, if you want to come with us. We’ll need someone to help us finish all this booze.” He gestured to three large boxes that were occupying the floor of the kitchen. I raised an eyebrow to Rhys and he shook his head. Drop it. He spoke in my head. I shoved him out and when I looked back at him, he looked hurt. 

“Boys, can I speak to my brother alone?” The two looked confused but stood up from the table regardless. 

“You don’t approve?” Rhy asked plainly. I scoffed.

“They might not know what today is, but I do,” I snatched the unopened bottle from his hand. “If you want to drink yourself stupid, I won’t stop you but that doesn’t prevent all of this from happening.” He made a lunge for the bottle and I was somehow able to keep it out of his grasp. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. 

“What do you want me to say? That I would rather her marry anyone else than him? That I wish I was the one that she was happy to see. That I wished she would change her mind…” He trailed off. Eyes seemingly far away.  Horror washed over his face. 

“Rhys?” I spoke softly, wondering if I pushed him too hard. 

“I have to go.” Was all he said and before I could catch him, he had winnowed away. 

I had been on edge since Rhys disappeared with no sign of where he was going to. It hasn't been more than an hour but I was about to wear a hole through the rugs in the hallway with my pacing. Suddenly, I heard Rhys in my head. Grab Mor and meet me at the big house. I didn’t respond. Just went to find Mor, she must have received a similar message because when I got to her room she was already waiting for me. She didn;t ask any questions, merely grabbing my arm and winnowing us to the house we rarely ever used. When we arrived to the house I nearly gasped as I saw why Rhys had disappeared so suddenly. I just had time to make out a satin slipper as it was chucked with deadly precision right at Rhys’ head. She had barely launched the other one at him before she stormed off up the stairs. Rhys was all but growling as he stalked over to us. “That went well.” Mor snorted at him and this time Rhys actually growled at her before stalking over to his own room. 

We didn't see or hear from Feyre for the rest of the night, the three of us eating in silence. I felt the tension rolling off of Rhys when Nuala and Cerridwen informed us that Feyre hadn't eaten the dinner they had left for her. My stomach sank and I avoided the stare from my brother. He had asked me to go check on her. Saying that I could offer her some company. I didn’t have it in me to talk to her yet. Didn’t want to make this day, this decision, about me. And I know going into that room I would see a younger version of myself I wasn’t ready to face. 

The next day, Rhys had insisted on her joining us for breakfast. She came stomping down the stairs. “I’m not a dog.” She sneered at him before taking a tentative seat at the table. 

She looked around and her eyes locked onto mine, recognition sparkling in them,

“I remember you. You were under the mountain. What are you doing here?” Her tone was surprisingly pleasant, a stark contrast from every word she had said to my brother. 

I introduced myself. “I’m his sister.” She laughed at that. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was hard to bite back my comment while I looked at her. It was like looking into an old memory, the dark circle around her eyes, the way the light had completely vanished behind them. She didn’t even look like this under the mountain. Tamlin had broken her completely. I’m sorry for you. I didn’t say that though, instead just responding with a simple. 

“You get used to it.” 

“I doubt that.” She snorted and started picking at the food in front of her.

[flickering-chandelier]

✨ACOTAR Masterlist ✨

Azriel x Reader:

Falling Slowly: Azriel and Reader slowly get closer and closer, until they finally realize that they are meant to be together.

I'll Look After You: Azriel comes back from a mission all bloody, and reader forces him to lay back and be taken care of.

🔥It's Cool, We're Just Friends: Azriel and Reader have been besties for years, until one night when they enter uncharted territory.

🔥I Heard Your Voice in a Dream: SpringCourt! Reader is saved by Azriel and they have an instant connection.

Rhysand x Reader:

What You Mean To Me: Cassian gets fed up with Rhysand and Reader being idiots, so he takes matters into his own hands and helps them get together.

In the Middle of the Night, In My Dreams: Reader has nightmares, but even when Rhys is gone, he knows hot to help.

🔥= steam with plot

Updated 4/24/24

[marvelsmylife]

Azriel smut preview

A/n since it’s taking me a while to post the Azriel story I promised you, I decided to post a preview of it. Hopefully I’ll have this out by Saturday (but hopefully sooner). Feel free to request any Azriel smut if you like here.

You let out a whimper at Azriel’s action and leaned into his touch, relishing in the feeling of his shadows swirling around your body. “They think your gorgeous as well,” Azriel smirked as his shadows explored your body.

“I think they’re gorgeous as well,” you breathed out while his shadows began to caress your face.

“Is this ok?” Azriel asked as he reached around and was ready to undo your bra. You eagerly nodded your head and gasped when in one swift motion Azriel undid your bra and tossed it to the ground. “They’re fucking perfect,” Azriel groaned before burying his face between your breast and started decorating your breasts love bites.

You let out a soft whimper at Azriel’s action and started rolling your hips against him, causing him to bite a little too hard and earned a cry from you. “I’m sorry, my love,” Azriel apologized and soon licked the spot where he bit you a little too hard, “Better?”