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illyrianbitch · 3 months

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Death and His Reaper

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: After suffering a devastating injury in battle, Azriel finds himself on the brink of life and death where he meets you, The Mother's reaper.

Warnings: angsty fluff?, brief mentions of battle and injury, lil convos about life and its meaning, Azriel without his shadows, lowk love at first sight

Word Count: 13k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel could feel the hot, metallic taste of blood filling his mouth, the sharp sting of pain shooting through his body with each ragged breath. A pounding, almost unbearable, pain in his head consumed him, a relentless throb that pulsed with every beat of his heart– each pulse sending waves of nausea washing over him. He tried to move, to shift away from the agony, but his limbs felt like stone, heavy and unresponsive. His muscles screamed in protest with every attempt to shift position, every movement met with waves of agony that radiated through his battered form.

Dark spots filled his vision as the ringing in his ears grew louder. Everything was fuzzy, hazy, blurs of movement and moving color. Azriel could hear sounds around him. Loud sounds, piercing sounds. Distantly, he could make out what he assumed were screams. He wasn’t sure though, and wasn't able to think about it too hard. His shadows were whispering to him, louder and louder, but he couldn’t hear them. The sound rattled in his brain as he blinked. Once. Twice. His vision became more unfocussed.

With a final, shuddering breath, the world dissolved into darkness.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

There was a humming in his ear when Azriel came to, a light vibration he wasn’t familiar with. The ache in his body grew duller with every blink— his eyelids still heavy with pain, or exhaustion, he wasn’t quite sure. One of the same, he guessed. He let a moment pass, taking deep breaths as he oriented himself. He laid in a bed, soft white sheets placed upon him gingerly. Had Feyre tucked him in? He thought for a moment. Why would Feyre tuck him in?

Another moment passed. Azriel became aware of his clothing, his body still strapped in his illyrian leathers— leathers that were eerily clean. No smudges, no stains. Pushing himself upright, Azriel glanced around the room, his movements slow and unsteady. There was no one else in sight, no familiar faces to provide him with answers. He frowned, his brows knitting together in a puzzled expression. With a hesitant sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, his muscles protesting at the sudden movement. He wavered for a moment, grasping for balance, before taking a cautious step forward.

He casted a casual glance towards the bed, rubbing his hands across his face in exhaustion as made a move towards the door, his thoughts scattered and disjointed. But then he stilled, his head quickly snapping back. Instead of an empty bed, Azriel's gaze fell upon his own body, lying prone and unmoving— paled, almost colorless, wings hanging limply at his sides. He blinked, a flicker of confusion and fear knitting his brows as he registered the scene before him.

“Quite strange, isn’t it?”

Azriel whipped his head around, his hand instinctively reaching for a dagger at his hip that he failed to find. His wings flared out angrily, fully extended with curled ends, each single claw at the apex poised and ready to strike. His eyes were wide as they focused on you.

You let out a quiet laugh, a gentle sound that caressed him like a comforting hand. He felt himself falter, a sense of confusion washing over him. Yet, within that confusion was a warmth that spread through him at your presence, at your voice— soft, like a faint ray of sunlight breaking through a storm cloud.

He fought the sudden urge to stand down, an odd sense of safety wrapping around him, unnerving him with the ease in which it filled him. He struggled back, pushing the feeling away. Stay guarded, stay ready, you are a threat. Yet even in his attempts, he recognized a slight release in the tension surrounding his shoulders, a small release in the stance of his wings– decisions he hadn’t consciously made. With his eyes still trained on you, his hand searched the side of his thigh, his hip, the backside of his waistband. He patted frantically, fingers itching to find a form of protection. When his search came up empty once more, he settled for holding his other hand out towards you in warning, his palm facing you as his body fell into a defensive stance. The blue siphon on his hand glowed aggressively.

The corners of your mouth tilted into a small smile. “You do that everytime.”

Azriel didn’t return the gesture. Instead, he narrowed his eyes as he properly took you in. He scanned your body; the way you stood comfortably in front of him, your hands clasped together, placed delicately in front of your waist. It almost hurt to look at you, he observed. He had to squint to make out your features. And when he did, he was hit with one thought: you were beautiful.

He cursed himself for recognizing it, for letting the thought echo in his head. You were a threat, he reminded himself, a stranger in his home. He was confused, disoriented, and yet you stood in front of him, presence dripping in a calm ease. You stared at him with a look he couldn’t discern, not when his mind was a muddled, confused, blurry mess. But the way you were looking, so expectant, so patient– it made him slightly nauseated.

“Who are you?” Azriel’s voice was loud and rough. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, a twitch in his wings, still extended wide. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Azriel scrambled for words, his head aching as he searched it for answers, for explanations. His confusion exposed him in a way that made him feel naked— at risk. None of it was right, not him standing over his own body, not him conversing with, what might possibly be, the most gorgeous female he’d ever seen, not the empty room around him. Was he dreaming? Was he being tortured?

You slowly lifted your hands in defense, remaining careful of how fast your movements were. “I’m not here to cause you any harm.”

A skeptical expression crossed his face. “Then why are you here?” He eyed you intently, his gaze scanning you as if sizing up a potential threat. His outstretched hand stayed unmoving, still on the defense. But you recognized a subtle shift in his posture, a slight calm flickering in his moving eyes.

Azriel was always the more difficult of the three to soothe. You had noticed this the last time, his wings shredded with ash arrows, his blood coating the floors beneath him. Even then, even through the exhaustion that bled into his unconscious mind– into his soul– he had fought you, acknowledged you with apprehension and distrust. You never blamed him, though. You understood. You would be fearful, confused, and defensive, too.

“I’m here to help you.”

Your voice was lower now than it was before. A soft murmur. He recognized the cadence, the words. It felt like a voice he’d heard before but couldn’t quite place.

"Who are you?" Azriel demanded as he frantically looked between his own body and you. He felt a sense of fear he wasn't accustomed to, a worry that either body would vanish were he to take his eyes away for too long. "What the hell is going on?"

You took a step forward as he turned to look upon his body, reaching an arm out to touch him, to begin to explain, when his head swiftly turned back to you. Azriel recoiled, taking a step away from you, his eyes scanning you again— wide and wild. There was a rustle as his wings mirrored his actions, still extended aggressively, unmoving. You quickly stilled, realizing your mistake of initiating contact too soon. Your brows furrowed as you gave him an apologetic smile. You took a step back, settling to stand a bit further from him than you were before.

Hazel eyes watched your every movement, his body tense as you fixed yourself into place, standing in front of him with the small smile still on your face– it reeked of pity, he thought. It didn’t feel right. No matter where he was, or who you were, he wasn’t supposed to be this off guard, this jumpy.

His face fell as the realization hit him: he couldn't feel them. His companions, his protectors, his shadows– there were no whisperings in his ear, no cool trail as they snaked around his body. He hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by you, by his lifeless form. The absence of his shadows explained this sudden vulnerability– he was receiving no information on you. No intel about who you were, what weapons you may have, who was around to witness. As quick as the realization settled into his stomach, Azriel called out to them. He dropped one of his hands lower as if to make it easier for them to find him, to reach him, but nothing came. No cool touch on his body, no whispers. Instead, silence enveloped him as he took notice of motion around him, black wisps of smoke scattered throughout the room.

You watched his movements, watched as he examined himself, as he craned his head to scan his body. "They can sense you," you explained, gesturing towards the shadows that seemed to be bouncing around, slithering on the ground like they were blind and confused. Some rested on his unmoving body, some around his feet, but not quite on him. His wings began to retract and slump as Azriel’s face slightly fell, his mouth open and brows furrowed.

He looked down, observing his hands tentatively. “Why aren’t they with me?” Azriel asked. His voice was slightly strained. He didn’t look up at you, his vision trained to his scarred hands, to the floor below him where shadows circled aimlessly. He felt an ache in his heart, a longing to be covered again, to be with them, to be protected. He felt too naked, stripped of every layer that protected him— no shadows, no intel, bare before you.

“Your shadows are sentient,” you explained, “they don’t die with you.”

His head snapped up, hazel eyes meeting yours instantly, widened with disbelief. "Die?" he repeated, his eyes scanning yours. "What do you mean die?"

In a slight moment of shock, Azriel took an unconscious step forward. His body tensed, and you watched as the rest of his frame followed suit, the muscles in his jaw clenching. There was an evident unease in his face, tension etched into his features.

You maintained a stillness, a deliberate choice not to intrude further, to remain respectful of his boundaries. Your gaze held a mixture of understanding and patience, offering him a moment to process the information without feeling overwhelmed. Then, you softly asked, “Where do you think you are, Azriel?”

His name sounded foreign on your tongue but he didn’t have the space to acknowledge it, instead rummaging through his other thoughts. He blinked, taking in your question. A dull ache in his head creeped up on him, but your voice soothed it instantly— soft, comforting.

"I... I don't know," he stammered, voice low and quiet, void of any assertion it held moments prior. His eyes darted back and forth, attempting to piece together fragments of memory. His wings now mirrored his defeated state– limp and listless, curled in, the membrane hanging dejectedly.

Sensing his growing distress, you adjusted your approach. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Your voice, smooth like honey and warm like tea, flowed through him. For a moment, he allowed it to sit, allowed it to spread, letting it calm him in a way that he was fighting before.

"I…" Azriel muttered to himself. Slowly, fragments of memory began to resurface, faint but discernible. He looked back at his body, examining it as if trying to find the missing pieces, memories popping up like distant echoes, flashing in the corners of his brain. The ache was back, slowly spreading throughout his head. “I was fighting.”

He looked back over his shoulder, twisting his body to peer at where his physical body lay in the bed, the colors of the room now registering with a strange clarity. Tandem disembodied flashbacks surged through his mind—flashes of fighting, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, and the cacophony of clashing weapons. Each image hit him like a sudden jolt, disjointed and chaotic.

In one fragment, he could almost feel the weight of a blade in his hand, the strain of muscles as he swung it in a frenzied dance. Another flash brought back the distant echoes of shouted commands, the clash of metal on metal, and the acrid scent of sweat and blood lingering in the air. The blurry memories continued, each scene disconnected yet vivid in its brutality. He shivered as the ghost of each sensation trailed his body, a twitch in his wings as he recalled the injuries they had sustained.

Then, a searing pain in his head, a sharp and sudden ache that brought him to his knees in his mind's eye. The pain lingered in his skull like a phantom sensation, and with it, a realization began to form. His eyes met yours with a cold, distant understanding. A wave of sadness hit you.

"I'm dead,” he stated, his voice quiet, “Aren't I?"

A sympathetic smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Not yet," you clarified, taking a step to move closer, the movement slow and deliberate. "You're in between."

"In between? In between where?"

You took a moment to look at him, your gaze lingering on his face. His eyes were darker now, troubled, as he stared back at you. “Your body,” You started, gesturing towards his sleeping form to guide his attention back to where it lay, “It's still fighting.”

Azriel nodded slowly, taking in each of your words, digesting them, letting them sit. There was a shift in his expression—a solemn understanding replacing the earlier confusion he once held. You continued.

"Madja, she's a brilliant healer. She has brought back many from this same brink."

When Azriel looked back at you, you shifted your focus to his head, motioning with a gentle sweep of your hand, then directed your fingers towards your own temple. "And your mind," You said, "it's fighting too."

Azriel frowned. He was a soldier. He sustained many injuries before, had fought in battles that left him with gaping wounds, with his organs rearranged. This was nothing new— so why was this different? Had he always been out this long?

You watched him intently, observing the way his thoughts seemed to churn beneath the surface, how he began to blink rapidly, how his brow furrowed. He was still confused– you could feel it. You let out a small sigh, running your eyes across his face.

"The injury you sustained was worse than any you've ever had," you explained, your voice steady. Flashes of his memories interjected—him fighting, soaring into the air only to be shot down, engaging in combat once again, his head colliding with something hard, the sickening sound of a crunch. "Not only to your body but to your head. You cracked your skull open completely, Azriel. The trauma of the infliction itself… well, let's say it damaged your brain. Heavily."

As Azriel looked directly at you, his hazel eyes glazed over with deep contemplation. He nodded absentmindedly, "Okay.” He said. He looked over to his unmoving form again.

With his attention fixated on his proper body, you took the time to observe him more closely, scanning his face and his body, taking in the details of his fighting leathers. Azriel was a vision— your favorite male to visit, your favorite soul to see. You can’t remember the first time you saw him, the first time he laid on a bed, a grasp away from death. You suppose it was centuries ago, when he first became a soldier. But even then, time escaped you.

Your gaze wandered to the wings adorning his back, now freed from their earlier alarmed nature, not fully extended but not fully kept back. You thought back to their wide and impressive extended form, the membrane between each robust wing bearing a faint sheen, casting a subtle shimmer in the ambient light. Even now they were mesmerizing– the leathery texture, the powerful structure, the way they naturally framed his form. The tips of the expansive wings curved slightly, giving Azriel an imposing yet graceful appearance, even among current circumstances. Azriel's voice brought you back to attention.

"So I'm stuck here?"

"For now." You responded, your voice carrying a gentle reassurance. The look on his face, only beginning to finally process his reality, pushed you to postpone any further explanations. Time was not an issue, not now.

"And you are..." Azriel's voice trailed off.

"Y/n," you answered.

He let the name sink in, repeating it with a slow, deliberate pace, "Y/n."

“Yes.” You nodded.

“And you’re here to help me.”

Another nod. “Yes.”

He rolled his shoulders as something that resembled a skeptical scowl slowly made its way through his face. Then, Azriel squinted his eyes at you. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

You couldn't help it—a small laugh escaped you, echoing softly in the room. The sound made Azriel jolt back slightly, caught off guard. Dying it down with a small, genuine smile on your face, you caught Azriel’s uncomfortable gaze, his wings now extended slightly, the corners of his lips downturned in confusion.

"I’m- I’m sorry,” You said, clearing your throat. “It's just... you are curious this time around.”

Azriel's hazel eyes widened in shock, his brows furrowing in confusion. "This– this time around?” His eyes rapidly scanned your face with a deep intensity. Faintly, he recalled your earlier comment, the laugh when you said that he reacted the same way every time. “Have we met before?"

You offered him a small smile as you said, "Many times.”

Azriel let out a deep breath. Here he stood, suspended between life and something else entirely, facing someone who knew him in a way that he couldn’t even remember. A sense of anxiety filled his chest. He wished for his shadows now, for them to wrap themselves around his arms, around his neck, to offer some calm. He searched you for any sign of deception, looked at the way your eyes followed him, the stance that you held. But all he found was a sense of sincerity and tenderness.

“Your family tends to face death a lot more than others in Prythian,” you explained, “You and your brothers especially."

At the mention of his brothers, Azriel's heart dropped, a heaviness settling in his chest. Thoughts of his family rushed in—wondering who had found him, the worry that surely gripped them. He straightened up, a sense of urgency urging him to survey his surroundings. His family… His gaze moved beyond you, taking in the details of the room. It was his guest suite in the River House, the room he’d stay in when he came to visit Rhysand and Feyre, the room they would drag him into when he needed to rest or heal. It was his room. Yet, there were no sounds of people, no familiar voices—just the quiet emptiness that surrounded him, surrounded you both. Surely they would be near him, Azriel thought, Madja at the least.

"Where is everyone?" He asked, still scanning the room. He walked towards the large windows, taking in the nighttime view, gorgeous and still— mountains covered in snow, a city lit by moonlight.

“Here, it's just you," you said gently.

Azriel turned to face you once more, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. He didn’t ask for any further explanation, a sense of exhaustion heavily weighing on him. His eyes bore into yours. "And you. You exist here too.”

“I do.”

He took a step towards you, wings rustling in their position behind his back. Azriel scanned your face, hazel eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and weariness. He wasn’t afraid of you, didn’t believe you were a threat– not anymore, at least. But you were still here, in this state of existence that only he was in.

“Why?”

The question was pure curiosity, not a hint of distrust or malice within it. You observed him, noting how he seemed to have settled, the tension in his frame easing. Instead, a subtle sadness lingered, a reflection of longing. Azriel loved his family, this much you knew. He was a devoted male, devoted to serving those he loved, devoted to his position, to his duties. Of course he was missing his family. Your heart ached.

"I'm here to help," you assured, "I’m to stay while you heal, or until–"

“Until I stop…” Azriel finished the sentence, a quiet acceptance in his voice. "And then you guide me."

You were taken aback as Azriel's hazel eyes locked onto yours, a moment of realization passing between you. Usually, it was you who revealed your purpose to those you reaped, explaining the meaning of your duties, easing their worries. You blinked, your head tilting back slightly as you clasped your hands together. Azriel continued, stating with a quiet certainty, "You're a reaper."

You nodded, titling your head as you took in his face, his brows slightly knitted. “I am.”

You weren’t supposed to be doing this. In situations like these, where they were stuck between the life before and the life after, you were to leave them in peace– wait until they decided or their body decided for them. It was never intended for you to stay with them during the waiting period, to keep them company. No, this was something you felt inclined to do. You couldn’t leave Azriel if you wanted to, it felt wrong— and you didn’t want to. Not one bit.

"You weren't what I expected," Azriel admitted.

Azriel had a faint idea of your kind, of your duties. He heard accounts of near-death experiences, tales of encountering a radiant light, foggy memories and beliefs of meeting a beautiful entity—whatever that meant. He always wrote them off as distant narratives, existing in the realms of folklore and imagination. He would have never imagined something like you – something so… delicate.

Curiosity lingered in your gaze as you asked, "What did you expect?"

"I don't know," Azriel replied honestly, his head beginning to throb and ache again. A hand instinctively rose to the back of his scalp, fingers rubbing at the tension that surfaced. The ache radiated through his skull as he massaged his hairline. You recognized the discomfort with a small frown, playing with your hands as you observed him for a moment.

"Azriel,” You spoke, drawing his attention back to you, “I'm going to give you some time to process everything. Explore, think. When you're ready, and if you want to, you can find me then."

Azriel looked at you, uncertainty drawn across his features. "How will I know where you are?”

"You’ll know.” A soft smile played on your lips as you reassured him. “Trust me.”

As you left, Azriel took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the quiet expanse embrace him.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were right. Azriel knew exactly where to find you. How we knew, he didn’t know. He wasn’t even aware of how he got to you, how he managed to move. One moment he was wandering, taking in the quiet halls of the house, the next he was thinking of you, seeking you out— and then he was here, watching you.

It was dark out still, a fresh night breeze in the air. Azriel stood for a moment, taking in his surroundings—a small clearing nestled between two towering mountains covered in snow. The landscape was rugged, the terrain too harsh to be in the vicinity of Velaris. Somewhere beyond the borders of Illyria, he concluded. He turned his focus back to you. Draped in a simple cream-colored dress, you stood at the edge of the clearing, your silhouette softly illuminated by the glow of the full moon that hung in the sky. The moonlight painted the terrain around you with a soft, silvery hue, casting long shadows that danced across the uneven ground.

“Hi, Azriel.” The words left your mouth before you turned your head to look at him. When your eyes met his, you gave him a smile. He faltered for a moment.

“Hello… Y/n.” He said your name quietly, adding it onto his greeting tentatively, as if he was testing how it felt on his tongue. He liked it, he decided. It tasted sweet.

You turned your head back to the view in front of you, and Azriel took it as an unspoken invitation. Slowly, he found himself walking towards you, the snow crunching beneath his boots. You both stood in silence, and Azriel found a sense of calm rolling through him. Taking a deep breath, he let his wings unfurl slightly, not having noticed the tension they had been carrying, tucked tightly behind him.

Azriel turned to gaze at you. You stood still, eyes trained forward on the view before you. Your focus prompted him to take in the sight once more, bringing his attention back to the vast expanse ahead.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

It was now your turn to look at him, to observe the side of his face as he looked forward. The faint glow of the moonlight casted shadows on the contours of his face. He looked almost holy, something devout and ethereal. "You don’t recognize it?”

Your question led to a contemplative frown creasing his brow and he turned his head, taking in the soft smile on your face. “Should I?”

You turned your body fully to face him, craning your head to look up at him. There was a subtle shift in his expression as your eyes met. You nodded toward the view, a gentle encouragement.

“Look again.”

And he did.

Then, his gaze softened, a hint of recognition flickering in his eyes. Azriel's shoulders fell, a subtle release of tension, and his wings shuddered softly. "I used to come here," he said quietly, "A long time ago… I used to come here."

His eyes shifted between you and the view. You met his gaze, nodding in silent understanding, leaving a space of silence that invited him to continue talking if he desired to— if he was comfortable.

"I found it flying one night," he continued. His memories now seemed to dance in his mind, distant yet vivid, a time before Amarantha, before Koshei. A faint smile ghosted his lips. “I'd find time between missions to come here and just breathe. Now I could never validate wasting time to be here, doing nothing."

You let out a small hum. “Taking time to breathe is never a waste.”

Azriel turned to look at you. "How did you..."

"Know about this?" you finished for him. He nodded.

You smiled, the expression warm and animated. Holding your arms in front, one hand cradling each elbow, you continued, "I could feel it. Part of our duty," your voice carried a gentle honesty. "The Mother helps us to find your peace."

Azriel's gaze scanned you again, a subtle curiosity in his eyes. His attention shifted to your arms, and then to the snow-covered surroundings. "Are you cold?" he asked, concern lacing his words. Instinctively, he placed a hand on your bicep, but quickly retracted it when he registered the movement.

You kept your gaze locked with his, unfazed. "No," you replied calmly, and then added, "Neither are you."

Azriel blinked, and then he looked down at himself, his eyes scanning his own body, his arms. He wasn’t cold. He thought back to every time he had visited this place, this lookout. Being so high up made the air nippy, made the breeze cold– he always wore an extra layer. But here he stood, alongside you, and all he could feel was a sense of warmth. Interesting. It was all so interesting to him.

Azriel nodded to himself, turning to face forward again. He traced the tops of the snow-covered mountains, the valley below. You remained sideways for a moment, watching him as he processed the image before him. Another moment passed and then you, too, turned to face forward, mirroring his contemplative posture.

“So, what does it all mean?” He asked, his voice a low murmur.

You stilled, rubbing your lips together as you took in his question. You glanced to the side, his eyes still trained before him. It wasn’t the view he was talking about, you knew this. He was asking the question many before him had, wondering about the purpose of life, the answer to their troubles. You thought for a moment, pondering on what to tell him. There were no right responses here— at least, none that you thought would satisfy him. So, you answered from your heart.

“Does it have to mean something?”

Azriel’s head turned to you. “Yes,” He said, all too fast. It had to mean something. His entire existence, his suffering, every life he had taken— it had to mean something. He needed it to mean something. The agony he had lived with, the anger he wore as second skin, it was all for something… for some reason. He needed it to be. So he continued, “It has to.”

You studied him, watching the subtle shifts in his demeanor, the weight of his gaze lingering on you— there was something in his eyes, a sense of desperation, of fear. You took a deep breath, and then you offered an understanding smile.

“Then it means whatever you need it to mean.”

Azriel frowned.

“That isn’t an answer.”

You tilted your head slightly, looking at him for a moment before you responded. “Well,” You said, "Perhaps you asked the wrong question.”

“What do you mean?” His brows knitted together, forming a furrowed line of confusion on his forehead. Faintly, in the back of his head, an ache gnawed at him.

Facing each other now, you maintained eye contact as he looked at you intently. “Ask me what you really want to, Azriel.”

”I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There was a tinge of frustration in his voice, delicately mixed into the confusion that laced it.

You simply shrugged, giving him a close-mouthed smile. “You will.”

In normal circumstances, your elusive answers would have driven him crazy— he would be suspicious of you, find a sense of guilt in your failure to give proper, concrete responses. But he wasn’t in a normal circumstance, and you weren’t a threat. These were two things he knew, now, for sure. So he took your answers, as ambiguous as they were, and let them sit with him in the comfortable, cool, silence.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel found you again by the Sidra, walking along the cobblestone streets of Velaris. It was the same again, him being able to find you without so much as a second guess. It was daytime now, he noticed. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm glow onto the city streets, filling his body with a comfortable, familiar, warmth. A few steps ahead of him, you stilled, turning around gracefully to face him.

“Hello Azriel.”

He stopped, making a motion to look around as if he were to find someone else, another person you might be referring to. Quickly he remembered that it was just you and him in this plane, in this form of his existence. He cleared his throat.

“Y/n,” He greeted, with a small nod of his head.

He walked towards you, stopping into place in front of you, a few feet ahead. The sunlight hit your back, creating a soft, radiant glow around your silhouette– it outlined your figure, forming a subtle halo around your head that seemed to blend with the warmth of the sun. It almost looked as if the sunlight itself was embracing you, framing your presence with a touch of radiance. Azriel took a moment to admire it.

He realized seconds later that he’d stared for too long, that you were now gazing up at him expectantly, eyes scanning his face.

Azriel wasn’t much of a talker, not around strangers, and sometimes not even his own family. It was never that he didn’t have things to say— quite the opposite, really. Az thought about everything, and he thought about it all very deeply. He had too much to say, too much that he’d observed. But now, in front of you, his mind was drawing blanks. He thought back to how, not long ago, you both stood on a snowy mountain, looking into the comfortable darkness of the night. How time worked here, with you, he didn’t know. It didn’t bother him, however, not like it did when he first woke up. In fact, he had begun to enjoy it. To enjoy how free it was, how there were no rules, no expectations, no missions.

Azriel paused, his thoughts swirling, and then, almost as if caught off guard by his own words, he blurted out, "I would like to show you something."

You blinked in surprise, your mouth parting slightly as your heart seemed to skip a beat, carefully falling back into a rhythmic melody. A smile spread across your features– a broad, teeth-revealing smile. The corners of Azriel’s lips turned up in response. If you didn’t know any better, you would have described the smile as almost awkward in its delivery. Though modest, it still held a certain beauty as it graced his face. The lines that had once etched across his features seemed to smooth out, replaced by silent calm evident in the softening of his gaze, the subtle curve of that smile. Your own smile settled into a close-lipped one, and you gently pulled your bottom lip with your teeth before nodding your head.

“Lead the way, Azriel," you said, and he began walking, but not without a quick glance back at you, ensuring you were following his lead. As you walked beside him at a comfortable pace, his wings fanned out comfortably. Their immense size allowed them to extend behind you, and even though you walked at his pace, you could feel their presence above you.

The streets of Velaris unfolded before you as you walked alongside Azriel. You took it all in– the beauty of the city, its intricate architecture and vibrant atmosphere. It was always a pleasure to experience it, to breathe in its life. Even amidst the circumstances that brought you here, there was a sense of appreciation for the privilege of experiencing such a place. A sense of jealousy welled up within you. Envy for those who could lead a normal life here— those who could wake up, take a walk by the Sidra, greet their friends in the morning light. It all seemed so mundane, so easy. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to give it the air to breathe, the space to fester. You looked towards Azriel.

“Where are we going?” You asked, as you both rounded a corner into a small alleyway. The space was narrow, causing you to fall into line behind him, your vision focusing on his wings. They were beautiful before, in the nighttime glow, but seeing them in such close proximity, with the sun casting through their membranes, it was a different experience. Such beautiful, beautiful things, you thought. You ached to run your fingertips across them.

He responded over his shoulder, "Aren't you supposed to know everything?"

You sensed a slight playful tone in his voice, letting out a small laugh at his question.

"That's not how it works," you replied, "I'm not The Mother."

Azriel stopped for a moment, causing you to skitter to a stop as well. He looked back, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he uttered a simple "huh."

You suddenly felt a vulnerability settling in, an awkward awareness of yourself and your proximity to him. Before it could fully take hold, Azriel resumed walking and you followed. The alleyway began to open up to a bigger road, allowing the space for you both to begin walking side by side once more.

"Azriel,” You said, casting a glance up at him, “If you're leading me to some private area to kill me, I hate to tell you that it won't work."

He stopped, and then craned his head down to look at you. A nervous flutter danced in your chest as a sense of self-consciousness crept in. What a stupid joke to make, you thought. What if he believed you were making a crude reference to his duties as a spymaster– assuming the worst of him and his abilities? Had you inadvertently touched on a sensitive subject in an attempt at humor? You weren't friends, you reminded yourself, there was still an expectation of professionalism to uphold. Azriel looked at you for a moment. And then another.

And then, he laughed. The sound, small and amused, radiated through your chest. You awkwardly joined in, unsure if your joke had landed or if it was something else entirely.

"Why would I kill the one who will bring me peace?" he asked, his words delivered with a touch of sincerity.

You let out a breath, taking in his face, the hazel of his eyes as he stared down at you. You smiled back at him, letting out another laugh, this time more certain and lighthearted. "Right, that would be foolish of you.”

You knew that Azriel was talking about your duties, about the job of a Reaper, not you specifically. But for a moment, you let yourself live in a fantasy, one where you weren't simply The Mother’s hand, where you didn’t only exist here, in a space where no one remembered you.

Azriel beckoned you to walk into the bigger street. It was only a few more steps before you stopped, taking in the sight of a quaint shop before you, adorned with small tables and chairs, surrounded by hanging plants and flowers. The window boasted a delicately hand-painted logo: Fillings & Emulsions.

Azriel took notice of the silence surrounding you both, no hum of the usual Velaris life, no laughter, no murmured distant conversations. Yet, the shop still smelled like its usual self— a sweet, buttery aroma of delicate treats and pastries. Azriel breathed it in with a smile. He opened the door, a small jingle sounding above him where a tiny bell rang. He held it open for you to enter.

Your gaze swept across the interior, taking in the small tables and the glass display filled with pastries of various shapes and colors. Behind the counter, loaves of bread sat neatly on wooden shelves.

"I like coming here, when I have the time."

Wandering around and exploring the cozy pastry shop, your gaze casually shifted towards Azriel, who remained by the doorway. "You're a dessert person?" you asked as you continued to meander through the charming space.

“Sometimes,” Azriel replied, walking further into the store. He looked around, taking in the familiar environment, the comforting decor. “But they have these sour candies that I love. They come in this little gold box-”

“You mean these?”

Now behind the counter, you turned around to face him, a small delicate gold box in your hand. The plastic cover revealed 12 small square gummies nestled inside, each in their own white wrapper. You looked up at him for confirmation. Azriel met your eyes before his gaze traveled down to your hands.

“Yes,” he breathed, a small smile forming on his lips, “Those.”

You smiled at the response, slowly making your way back around the counter, a few feet away from where he stood. You surveyed the store, eyes bouncing to the different tables and mismatched chairs. “Where do you usually sit?”

“I, uh, I don’t.” Azriel cleared his throat. “I never have the time. And when I do, I usually just head home.”

Azriel didn’t explain further, didn’t tell you his real reasons. It was true, he usually didn’t have time to sit and leisurely enjoy a box of candies. But when he did, he was often too afraid to stay in the store itself.

Azriel knew he called attention, that his wings stuck out in stark contrast against the gentle streets of the city, the quiet hum of life. He’d conditioned himself to appear smaller when walking around, to avoid direct eye contact so as to not intimidate those he passed. But even then, his presence was offputting– he’d catch citizens avoiding him, creating more distance between them or switching to the opposite side of the street. It was part of the job, he told himself. He was a large male, fully aware of how terrifying his stature could be, how frightening his own wings could be— especially when fully extended. Not even to mention his scarred hands, ones that he was sure fae could imagine easily drenched in the blood of his enemies. He wore gloves when he could. He wasn’t ashamed of them– his hands– not as much as before, but he was always acutely aware. Aware that they weren’t normal, that they drew attention, that for the comfort of others, he hid them away.

He came to, his thoughts slowly dissipating as he registered his surroundings once more, his gaze landing on you. You looked at him with a small curiosity in your eyes.

“Well,” You said, taking a glance around, “Would you like to sit now?”

“I would.” He nodded, offering a small smile that carried a touch of timidity. It wasn't like before, no uncertainty or awkwardness, but rather a gentle expression that hinted at a reserved warmth.

“Inside or outside?”

Azriel looked over his shoulder, towards the small door and the seating outside.

“Outside,” he replied.

A hum of agreement escaped your lips as you gave him a smile, taking a step to the side in order to walk around him, leading the way. The gentle jingle of the little doorbell echoed delicately as you stepped outside.

Azriel followed you, watching as you approached a small steel table. The white paint was chipped, flaking off at certain areas of the legs, but you didn’t seem to mind. The air felt crisp and clean, rays of sunshine peeking through alleyways and the tips of the stores that lined the street. Azriel took a moment to breathe it in, savoring the clarity that hung in the atmosphere, the silence. You pulled out your chair, the movement emitting a small screech as it slid against the cobblestones. Azriel walked to the table, standing opposite of you, and carefully took a seat.

As you slowly opened the box, Azriel adjusted himself in the seat. It was small, the steel back stiff and straight, making it hard for him to sit comfortably with his wings. After a small struggle, he settled into a position sitting up right, wings draping across each side of the chair. The frustration melted away as he took in his surroundings once more. He felt a certain peace he’d never felt before. A lightness in his movements, in his touch. The fresh air kissed his skin, a soft breeze whispered into his ears, threading itself through his hair.

“Is it always like this?” He asked.

You pulled the lid off the box, casting a glance up at him. Azriel’s head was turned sideways, his gaze following the curve of the streets.

“Like what?”

He looked at you, catching your eye. His face held a graceful calmness, brows slightly furrowed, and the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly. With a soft, velvety tone, he replied, "This peaceful."

Turning to the side, you quickly scanned over the streets, registering the simple beauty that surrounded you both. Turning back to him, a tender smile played on your lips.

“Yes,” you replied, “It is.”

Azriel's response was a simple silent contemplation. Leaning back with a subtle adjustment for comfort, his wings gently folded and his gaze fixed on the table. Azriel loved Velaris. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the peace of an empty city that graced him now. Sitting with you now, at a small table by the streets, was something he was never able to do— not truly, not to this extent. He held the feeling close.

"Which are your favorites?"

Your voice pulled Azriel back to reality. He blinked, and then he looked at you.

"The green ones.”

You picked up one of the green candies nestled in white wrapping and offered it to him. Your hands briefly touched as he gently accepted the candy from you. You felt the texture of his skin against yours, the small ridges formed by the scarred tissue that extended to his fingers.

Azriel waited for it– the expected recoil from unintended contact, his body having been naturally accustomed to jump at the slightest of touches. However, this time, there was no involuntary withdrawal, no rush of icy embarrassment.

He was always so careful of his touch with Elain, acutely aware of how his hands looked against her immaculate skin. Although he refused to admit it, it bothered him deeply, how obvious it made his differences appear. Yet, that caution wasn’t found now, in his movements with you. Instead, a sense of certainty filled him, a gentle nudge to his heart, a contentedness with himself and his presence. You were beautiful, graceful, kind– and he didn’t feel guilt when touching you, didn’t feel as if he were about to taint something too beautiful for his hands.

You observed him as he stared at his hands, now resting on the table, the candy still in between his fingers. With a small movement, you gently cupped the side of one of them with your palm.

“Azriel,” You softly said, pulling his attention to you. “They didn’t feel this type of peace— didn’t feel peace at all, actually.”

Azriel stayed quiet, his gaze now trained on where your hand touched his. You pulled your hand back, and Azriel's gaze followed. Then, almost imperceptibly, the hazel of his eyes brightened. There was something about the way you spoke to him, about how kind your voice was. They didn’t feel peace. Your words rang in his head, a wave of relief passing through his body. It healed a part of him that he swore was broken, warmed his body like a summer's eve. He gave you a small smile.

You worried for a moment that you had forced thoughts onto him, ones that harbored pain and loneliness. But you felt it in your gut, a need to tell him, to let him know that they had suffered the way they deserved— that his hands were solely a part of him, a body part, natural. And from his response, it seemed as if he understood what you were saying, and most importantly, that it resonated with him the way you wished it to. You returned your attention to the sour candies before you.

"Can I ask why you like these so much?"

Azriel looked at you, a close-mouthed smile forming. His eyes crinkled a bit, and then he explained, "My mother used to give me candies just like this when I was able to see her. I never figured out how she got them. She..." He trailed off, readjusting how he was sitting. His gaze met yours as he finished, "That's why."

You could sense the sadness now evident in his face, his wings rolling in closer to his body. You let out a small breath as a sudden pang of sympathy hit you.

"Let's talk about something else," you suggested, subtly shifting the focus as you played with the edges of the candy box

Azriel leaned forward quickly, his hand reaching out to gently rest on yours before either of you had the chance to register the movement. "It's alright,” he said softly. “I'd like to talk about this. I don't talk about her much.”

Your gaze lingered on his hand touching yours, on the warmth that spread through your skin at the contact. Be professional, you reminded yourself. This is not real.

With a genuine smile, you nodded, careful not to move a muscle, not wanting to disrupt the moment, to risk the chance of him retracting his hand. "Then please, I'd love to hear.”

And so he did. Azriel spoke of his mother, of growing up admiring her long hair and the way she smelled of pine and snow. He realized that he had never talked so much about himself, never shared such intimate details about his life. He realized, too, that he quite liked it. He liked talking to you. He liked you.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Days and nights had passed, Azriel was sure of it, but he was never tired, never slept. Time worked so differently here– he wasn’t aware of it passing, wasn’t aware of what he’d done the day before or even hours prior. All he was aware of was the peace in his heart, how it radiated throughout his body, relieving him of centuries worth of tension. Amidst it all was you, a companion Azriel had grown to enjoy— to adore, if he was being honest with himself.

You were kind and patient, welcoming in a way that had him opening up to you, telling you stories that he’d never dared to share with anyone else. There was no fear of being vulnerable here, with you, no threat he had to worry about, no anxiety regarding a new enemy or an evil to defeat. It was all so easy.

Azriel walked through the hallways of the House of Wind, taking in the familiar sense of home that filled it, the beauty of the sun-warmed stone. He found himself outside of his own room, staring in at the space. It was strange to think that his body, his real body, lay in another bedroom, in another home— in a form of existence that he no longer held. It was all so very strange. But he didn’t mind, not anymore.

He felt you before he heard you, a gentle breeze fanning over him, a smell of sweetness filling his nose. He turned to face you, taking in your presence, the cream dress that adorned your figure. It was there again, the subtle halo around your head, framed by faint rays of sunlight.

“Hello, Azriel.” You greeted with a large smile. He mirrored the gesture almost instantly.

“Hello, y/n.”

You took a few steps forward, craning your head to peer into the room behind him, past the doorway he stood under.

“Is this your room?”

“Yes,” He said, taking a step aside to allow for you to pass him as you entered. “One of many. My family, they have many places to call home.”

“Do you miss them?” You asked, casting a glance over your shoulder as you moved around his room, “Your family, I mean.”

Azriel stilled for a moment. He hadn’t thought of them as much as he would have expected, a part of him felt guilty for not being as heartbroken. He did miss his family– he was worried about them, about how they were doing, if his help was needed. But he didn’t feel a rush to return to his life, no nauseating need to fix his current situation, to be healed and awake.

“Yes.” He replied. He watched as you walked around, carefully taking in your surroundings. His room wasn’t very interesting— simple decorations that had already been placed before he took residence, various random books.

“Where do you disappear to?” Azriel asked.

You turned to look at him, taking him in for the first time since you entered. It was still there, you noticed, the sense of calm on his face, the evidence of a serene ease. His eyes held a lightness that you’d seen grow since he first came to you. His shoulders were relaxed, his wings comfortably fanned out behind him in an open and unhurried sprawl.

To do your job, you thought. The duties of a Reaper. Visiting souls in distress, leading them to their peace swiftly– efficiently. Not staying with them, not keeping them company. No, those were things you’d reserved for Azriel. You only hoped that The Mother wasn’t angry, that your affinity for him didn’t disrupt a delicate balance.

“As much as I enjoy our time together, I still have duties to fulfill,” You replied. “Did you miss me?”

You intended for it to be a joke, a lighthearted comment that would make him laugh– a melodic sound you had gotten used to recently, one that you savored and replayed in your mind. Yet Azriel’s eyes met yours with a serious gaze.

“Yes,” He answered, his voice sincere. “I did.”

Something in your chest fluttered and your mouth parted, a pleasant shiver rolling through your body. There was a small heat that rose to your cheeks. For a moment, you looked at the floor, composing yourself before meeting his gaze again. A genuine smile graced your lips as you softly admitted, "I missed you, too."

A few moments later, you walked along Azriel as he shared stories about his home, his brothers, and the various experiences he'd had, absorbing each narrative with hungry ears. It was a beautiful thing to see, Azriel open and laughing, the smile on his lips as he recalled favorite memories. This house, The House of Wind as Azriel had called it, was filled with life– his life. You could feel it everywhere as you walked. There was a small tug at your heart. He had a life. A beautiful, real life.

Eventually, you both stopped at a large window, the outside world spread before you in a breathtaking view. Azriel found his gaze dropping to the streets below, devoid of the usual bustling life he was used to. Faintly, a small ache hit the back of his head. He blinked it away. Then, he frowned slightly, a realization hitting him that he didn’t enjoy seeing the streets empty– that something felt missing. He turned to look at you, brows furrowed.

"Do you ever get lonely?"

The question lingered in the air for a moment, stealing the air from your lungs. Why it seemed to strike, you couldn’t tell, but it left a burn in its wake. You let out a deep breath as you looked up at Azriel.

“The Mother blessed me with a duty that is fulfilling.”

Azriel looked at you, studying your response. A sense of sadness filled him, a gentle ache in his heart at the idea, at the image of you alone, wandering the empty streets. Softly, he spoke, "That's not what I asked."

A wave of emotion washed over you. There was a sanctity to your duties, to the job that you held. You were honored to help The Mother, to be the one that granted such peace. You never knew that you could feel such longing, such a desire to be someone else, something else, until you met Azriel the first time he crossed. And then the time after. And now.

"Yes, Azriel,” you admitted, “I do.”

As you both stood in the quiet moment, the stunning view from the window still visible in your peripheral vision, you looked at Azriel. You took in his details—the tousle of his hair, the gleam in his eyes—committing the scene to memory. This was an image you wanted to save forever, one of him so close, so connected.

Azriel broke the silence with another question, "Why do you do that? Say my name so often?"

You didn’t realize that the frequency in which you used his name was noticeable. It rolled off your tongue so easily, so naturally. You thought about it for a moment, thought about the feeling you got before you said it.

"Would you prefer me to call you by something else?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as you observed Azriel's expressions. "Shadowsinger, or Spymaster?"

His response was immediate and he took a step forward as he spoke. "No," Azriel said, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I-I like it."

You smiled at him. "I suppose I do it to make sure you feel seen."

A flicker of confusion crossed Azriel's face, his brows knitting together. "Seen?"

"To show you that you're not just what you do," you explained, your voice carrying a quiet sincerity. Your words trailed off softly. A beat passed, and then you added, "At least not to me."

In his hundreds of years of life, Azriel was never seen. He had been perceived, observed, even known, but never truly seen. Not like the way you looked at him, the way you allowed him to breathe, allowed him to exist as nothing more than simply Azriel.

Your gaze held seemed to see beyond the layers he had meticulously built around himself for so long, beyond the titles and responsibilities that often defined him. For the first time, he felt a sense of vulnerability mingled with relief—a feeling of being understood in a way he hadn't experienced before, in a way he never felt he deserved. A warmth spread through his body, starting from the pit of his stomach and radiating outward, enveloping him in a comforting embrace.

Without even realizing it, his hand moved towards you, lifting a strand of your hair and gently holding it between his scarred fingers. In the past, he would have hesitated to touch another person so intimately, but in this moment, there was no hesitation, no sense of reluctance, only a pull to you and you only. Was this part of what it meant to be a Reaper? He wondered, to cause such comfort in those you kept company? To make them feel like this?

He watched the way the strand of hair caught the light, twirling it between his fingers with a tenderness he had never known himself capable of. He met your eyes, slightly widened, observing him intently. With a soft smile, Azriel spoke, "I see you too, Y/n.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

His view was filled with rolling hills, vibrant in green hues, a gentle afternoon sun in the sky. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of babbling brooks and streams, a soothing melody that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rustle of the wind through the grass, through the leaves of the trees that surrounded you. Azriel understood why Mor was so fond of her estate, why she ran off to it when she could. If it was surrounded with views like this, with such quiet life, beautiful life, he would escape to it, too. Beside him, you lay on the soft grass, your hair spread out around you like a halo.

Despite the open air, Azriel felt groggy, his eyelids heavier than they’d felt in a while. Something felt strange, a trickling sense of anxiety within his body. The wind in his hair and the air on his arms, on his wings, didn’t feel the same— it wasn’t as lively, wasn’t as strong. There was a sharp throb in the back of his head, sending a sudden wave of pain crashing over him. He grimaced and let out a low groan.

Instinctively, you jumped up at the sound, angling your body to face him, concern painting your features. Your heart dropped as you watched him bring a hand to the back of his head, brows furrowed in discomfort.

Amidst pained groans, Azriel turned to you with a frown. "I’m sorry. I just- I keep having these horrible headaches.”

You let out a small breath.

"It's because you're healing," you murmured softly, your voice tinged with sorrow. Your gaze lingered on him, sadness flickering across your features. When Azriel’s eyes met yours, you quickly blinked away any evidence of it, calling forward a gentle, unassuming, face.

His hand dropped slowly from the back of his head. "I am?" he echoed.

You extended your hand, hovering it gently over the back of his head where his hand had been moments ago. "This is where you damaged your skull," you explained softly,. "The injury that got you... Well, here. With me." Your gaze swept around the tranquil surroundings, a small, bittersweet smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Any progress in your physical body, you feel here too," you continued, your voice tender yet matter-of-fact. "The ache is calling you back."

"Back to my life," Azriel murmured, the words barely audible as they slipped from his lips, softening and fading before they fully formed.

You nodded, a lump in the back of your throat.

Azriel's expression shifted abruptly, a flash of tension replacing the settled calmness that had graced his face for quite some time now. "I don't want to go back," he said. It was a tone of voice you’d never heard from him before, a sense of desperation that didn’t fit him.

You shook your head gently. "You don't mean that.”

But Azriel remained resolute. Moving closer, he reached out, his hand coming to rest atop yours on your thigh. "I do," he insisted, his tone unwavering. “Y/n, I do.”

“Azriel,” You said sternly. “You have a life waiting for you, a long life.”

“But I’m so tired. All the time,Y/n” he admitted, his voice heavy with weariness. “And this,” he gestured around him, his eyes lingering on the rolling green hills, "this is the most at peace I’ve ever felt."

You felt a selfish impulse, a desire to indulge in his fantasy, to urge him to stay, to fight against the inevitable pull back to reality. But you knew it wasn't fair, that it wasn’t right. If you truly cared for someone, you had to be fair to them. And you cared for Azriel– cared for him in a way you’d never felt before.

“But it’s not real,” you interjected softly, leaning in, your brows furrowed, your forehead creased with concern. "This isn’t a life.This isn’t a reality— this is an in-between. Sooner or later, you will find yourself on one end.”

Azriel couldn’t understand. His heart hurt. Why weren’t you agreeing with him? Why weren’t you telling him to stay, convincing him it was worth it? This peace he felt with you, this quiet life you lived, he could stay. He would stay.

“You’re real,” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. “And right now, this...” he trailed off, his gaze sweeping over your face, "this feels real to me.”

You took a deep breath, feeling knots tightening in your stomach, a lump forming in your throat. You swallowed down the words you wanted to say, replacing the ones on your tongue with those he needed to hear.

"I'm a Reaper," you said, reminding him of the inevitable separation it entailed. His eyes, a dark, almost sad brown, met yours. “Reapers aren’t meant to stay.”

The knots in your stomach were twisting now, weaving themselves through your ribs. It was hard for you to breathe, hard for you to look at Azriel as he stared at you with such clear hurt on his face. He couldn’t stay. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t the plan. Azriel was going to return to a life where he would not remember you, a life in which you didn’t exist. And you would remain here, waiting in a form of existence that had no time.

"Your family misses you," you continued, your gaze unwavering as you locked eyes with him. The knots now wrapped around your heart, squeezing. "You still have things to do. They need you. You need them."

Surely your heart was about to burst, the pressure in your chest now overwhelming– crushing you, your heartbeat erratic.

“Come with me.” Azriel said.

You let out a small breath, a soft laugh escaping your lips at the absurdity of his suggestion. It sounded so simple, so easy, but you knew better. It wasn't that simple, life was never that easy. You were a Reaper. He was a soul. Before you could respond, Azriel continued, his voice still gentle but earnest.

"You'll love them. And you'll love Velaris when it is filled with people. With life."

His eyes bore into you, seemingly searching for something, trying to memorize every contour of your face, every flicker of emotion that danced across your features.

"I can't," you replied softly, your heart heavy with the weight of your duty. You shook your head again as you tightened your lips for a moment. "That's not how this works.”

Azriel's demeanor softened, a small breath of defeat escaping him as his wings drooped slightly. He took in everything you said, his gaze flickering down to where his hand still rested atop yours before meeting your eyes again.

"I don’t want to leave you here," he said quietly.

Here, alone, he thought. It was true, everything was so beautiful in this form of existence. It was quiet, serene, and calm. The nights were beautiful, the days were glorious. But without you, it would have been empty. Void of life. He didn’t want that for you, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you in such a vast space. It felt wrong.

You recognized the concern in his eyes, realizing that his desperation stemmed from a place of caring– caring for you. It struck a chord within you, stirring a bittersweet pang in your chest, right beside your rapidly beating, tied up heart. Somehow, knowing that he cared for you only made you care for him more, deepening the sorrow that lingered in you, the feeling that now coursed through your veins.

Tilting your head, you offered him a soft smile, a gesture of reassurance, you hoped. "Azriel," you said gently, your voice tinged with a warmth he had grown to love, "I'll be alright. I'm happy here. It's where I belong."

It wasn’t all a lie. This was where you belonged, and you would be alright. But you weren’t sure if you’d be happy. Happiness wasn’t something you used to think of. You had a duty, a sacred, important duty, nothing else really mattered— not yourself, not your desires, not your heart.

Azriel took in your answer, swallowing the urge to fight it, to convince you further. But the pleading in your eyes, coupled with the ache in his chest and the heaviness in his stomach, left him feeling defeated. With a resigned nod, he looked at you, his voice soft but determined.

"I'll find you," he whispered.

You blinked, caught off guard by the soft declaration.

"I'll find you," Azriel said again, his tone firmer, as if he were making a promise that he intended to keep.

You understood the sentiment behind his words, recognizing the determination in his eyes. You knew, without needing to discuss it, that as a skilled spymaster, he possessed the ability to find people. Yet, deep down, you also understood the inevitable truth—that soon, he would forget you, forget the time you spent together. The thought caused a sharp ache in your heart, one you preferred not to dwell on.

So, with a heavy heart, you simply nodded and murmured, "Okay." And offered him a smile.

You sat there in silence, the weight of his words hanging in the air around you. Breathing in the crisp, fresh air, you let the sounds of nature wash over you, grounding you in the present moment. Your gaze lingered on his face, committing every detail to memory, as if carving it into your very being. You wanted to remember this. Remember him, his touch, his care for you.

Azriel—the shadowsinger, the spymaster, a skilled killer. And then there was you—the servant of the Mother, a guide for souls, bound by duty and devotion. Death and his Reaper. What a poetic pair you made.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was time.

You had been right, when you talked him down before, sitting on the beautiful green hill. Azriel had a life to return to, a family he missed– a family that missed him. He didn’t belong here, no matter how much he wished he could. He could feel it, nestled within his ribs, a deep pull to his body.

Azriel stood in the familiar confines of the River house, his gaze fixed on the bed where his physical form lay peacefully. He took in the sight of his body, now filled with color, vibrant and alive, a stark contrast to the pale, lifeless form he had been when he first awoke.

A sense of disorientation washed over him as he realized he was back here, in this room, though he couldn't recall making the conscious decision to return. From behind him, he felt your presence, a familiar energy that always seemed to embrace him with a comfortable warmth, the sweet smell in his nose.

"I didn't even realize I was coming here.” Azriel said.

Without turning, he heard your soft voice. "You never do," you replied simply, “Your body calls and you answer.”

Azriel nodded slowly, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. He breathed out heavily. He longed to turn and look at you, to embrace your presence, trace the features of your face. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to confront the truth that lay before him—that he wanted to go back, back to the land of the living, to his family, to embrace his life once more. But he wasn't ready for what he needed to do in order to return– wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you.

“Azriel,” You said, as you gently placed your hand on his arm. He turned to look at you, his heart skipping a beat.The faelight cast a soft glow on your body, illuminating the delicate features of your face, dancing through your hair like shimmering strands of moonlight. And there it was—the small, reassuring smile that you had offered him so many times before. The smile you had given to him when he first woke up, afraid and alarmed, in the same place he stood now.

He couldn't help but feel a flicker of happiness at the sight of your gentle smile, but just as quickly as the feeling washed over him, it was replaced by a bittersweet pang of realization. The reality of why you were here, why you were looking at him with such tender affection, why he could barely feel your touch— and why his head throbbed with searing pain. He glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping form, and then looked at you again.

“Y/n, I-”

You gently shook your head, a soft shushing sound escaping your lips as you reached out to calm him. "It's okay," you reassured him, your voice gentle but firm. "You won’t feel a thing."

But Azriel shook his head too, his expression filled with concern as he took your hands in his. "That's not what I'm worried about," he admitted quietly.

You met his gaze, taking in every detail of his face, breathing in his scent. Your gaze drifted towards his wings, so beautiful, so powerful. And then you looked back at him.

"I'll be okay."

It was a promise, not just to him, but to yourself.

Azriel's senses dulled and the pain intensified, a sense of desperation washed over him. He thought back to your conversations earlier. He never figured out how time worked here, perhaps the conversation had been days ago, even weeks. But, to him, it felt like hours prior. Maybe a day, if he was being generous. Still, his mind raced with thoughts, with things he wanted to tell you, to ask of you, things that hadn’t been there before. Ask me what you really want to, Azriel, you had said, so he did.

“Am I worthy?” His voice rang out, unsure, afraid— of the answer, of what the question meant. “Am I worthy of this life? Is… is it worth it?”

You smiled. A broad, bright, and kind smile.

You felt Azriel's hands tremble slightly in yours, guiding them to your lips. With tender reverence, you pressed a small, tender kiss upon his scarred flesh. “Yes,” you whispered, “If only you knew.”

You understood now, why The Mother always urged for a swift journey. You weren’t supposed to spend such intimate times with your souls, you weren’t supposed to grow comfortable in their presence, to learn about their favorite candies and the way their mothers smelled. You weren’t supposed to because it distracted you from your duty– and more importantly, you weren’t supposed to because it prevented you from the heartache you felt now. A piercing pain in your chest, a heaviness in your stomach.

You lifted a hand and gently placed it on his cheek. The warmth of your touch radiated through his body, sending a wave of indescribable sensation coursing through him. The world seemed to blur around him, the ringing in his ears drowning out all other sound. He squinted against the growing brightness, his head throbbing with a relentless ache. He heard your voice, soft like honey, sweet like tea, whispering in his ear in perfect clarity.

“Goodbye, Azriel.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel jolted upright, his body propelled by a surge of adrenaline that left him momentarily breathless. With a deep inhale, he struggled to steady his racing heart, his surroundings swimming into focus with agonizing slowness.

Each detail of the room seemed to materialize before him in excruciating detail, from the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the window to the faint murmur of voices drifting from the doorway. His hand instinctively went to the back of his head, a gesture born of instinct rather than any physical discomfort. Confusion furrowed his brow as he tried to recall why he had woken with such a start, where he currently was, why he laid on a bare bed, but the memory seemed frustratingly out of reach– blurry and unfocused.

As Azriel's eyes adjusted to the soft light filtering through the room, the door creaked open, a distant sound barely registering in his slow mind. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, a blur of motion filled his vision and Cassian was upon him, bounding forward with a crushing embrace. "There's my boy!"

With a startled gasp, Azriel felt the air rush out of his lungs as Cassian's hug engulfed him, the force of the impact momentarily disorienting him further than he already was. A small, involuntary sound—a mixture of surprise and amusement—escaped his lips as he tried to regain his bearings. Azriel's gaze flickered past Cassian’s broad shoulders, to where Rhysand stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and amusement.

"Okay, Cass," Rhysand said, walking towards the bed. "Let him breathe. We don’t want to give him another head injury."

Cassian released Azriel from his enthusiastic embrace, though a joyous gleam danced in his eyes as he stepped back, offering Azriel a sheepish grin. "My bad," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment, “I just missed ya.”

Rhysand stood casually, a playful smirk dancing across his lips. "If you were seeking attention, Az, you could've simply asked," he said with a wave of his hand. "No need to resort to dying for it."

The comment elicited a shocked blink from Azriel, his brows furrowing in confusion. "I- What?" he echoed. A few of his shadows slithered up his arms, wrapping themselves across his shoulders, the cool trail of them relieving tension in his upper body.

Rhysand let out a small laugh as he clapped him on the shoulder with a reassuring grin. "You have a lot of catching up to do, brother," Rhysand remarked, “Let's get you back to the land of the living.”

Azriel offered a small, uncertain laugh in response, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a hesitant smile, his mind still cloudy, disoriented. Rhysand and Cassian began talking, referring to him, attempting to fill Azriel in, but he wasn’t paying attention, their voices blending into a distant hum.

Instead, Azriel's attention was drawn to an inexplicable warmth on his cheek. Instinctively, he lifted his hand and gently touched the spot, feeling the comforting heat beneath his fingertips. He frowned, trying to make sense of the sensation, but the warmth seemed to soothe his lingering disorientation, grounding him in the present moment with a sense of…ease.

Azriel's attention shifted towards the corner of the room, where a soft beam of sunlight filtered through the window. A handful of his shadows floated and twirled, their graceful movements dancing within the warm glow. He smiled, tilting his head at the sight, his hand still on his cheek. What a beautiful sight, Azriel thought. And then he was turning his attention back to his brothers, a wide smile now on his cheeks.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

y'all... imagine meeting ur soulmate but u can only see her when ur dead and cant remember her otherwise lol sucks for azriel.

#azriel #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotarfandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel one shot #acotar oneshot

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assassinsblade · 5 months

Text

Forget Me Not | 2

Back home and healing, you try to come to terms with what happened.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: TW: SA!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. This part does go into heavy detail of the assault. The recollection is in italics if you wish to skip it. There is also heavy reference to blood, injury, death, angst, feelings, and unrequited love. The reader and Azriel are in pain in these next few parts lol sorry.

Part 1 Part 3

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

“Hey, sweet girl.”

You whimpered, trying to blink your eyes open to the light pouring into your bedroom. Your entire body ached and your mouth felt insanely dry. Confusion flooded your mind as you attempted to remember how you got there, tucked in your bed with Cassian at your side.

You turned your head to the side, peaking your eyes open. A gauze bandage scraped against the skin of your neck with the movement.

“Cass?” You croaked.

His hazel eyes gleamed, his lips quirking up in a terrible excuse for a smile. “I’m right here. How are you feeling?”

A swallow felt like sandpaper.

“I hurt.”

He gave you a sympathetic look before standing from his seat and crossing the room to your desk where a water pitcher and glasses lay. Pouring you a glass, he glanced back over his shoulder.

“You gave us all quite a scare. Everyone’s been checking in on you.”

He helped you sit up in the bed, brushing your hair out of your face gently before tilting the glass into your mouth. When you were satisfied with the few sips, you helped pull the glass down.

“How long have I been in here?”

“Just two days. Your body needed time to rest.”

At your silence, Cassian seemed to shift uncomfortably in his chair. He cleared his throat. “Do you remember what happened?”

You tensed, your body remembering before your brain forced you to confront the memories.

“Yes.” It came out weak but short.

His caring eyes met your own, reassuring and gentle as he leaned his forearms on his knees. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” you said immediately. You felt this irrational amount of shame at what had happened to you, a vulnerable embarrassment, a sort of crippling anxiety deep in your chest. It brought tears to your eyes. “No, thank you.”

Cassian nodded, looking down briefly at his hands. “Madja healed you. You might be sore for a few days, and that bandage should be good to be removed, but you should still take it easy.”

“Okay.” You tried to give him a small smile, but it felt impossible.

“I should also tell Rhys that you’re awake. He should he stopping by soon. Are you okay with seeing him?”

You hesitated. Yes, you were comfortable around Rhys, but the unwelcome attention this would all bring to you… You didn’t want to discuss this assault with others, have them scrutinize you and make assumptions.

But Rhys was also High Lord of the Night Court. And he had helped you since Mor brought you to Velaris. He was kind, and he would not be invasive in his questioning.

“Uh, yeah. I think that’s okay.”

Cassian nodded again, seeming to look you over carefully. He was biting his tongue, you observed, wanting to say something but not knowing if he should.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he finally spoke.

He stood from the chair he had pulled up to the side of your bed, moving it softly back up against the wall. “Get some rest. Rhys or I will check on you in a bit.”

As he walked to the door, you couldn’t stop yourself from calling out to him. “Thank you,” you blurted, causing him to pause and look at you, his hand still on the doorknob. “If it wasn’t for the small amount of training you gave me…”

Cassian looked like he wanted to object, averting his gaze before settling back on you with a look that made you want to sob. “I’m really proud of you.”

And with that, he left the room, quietly clicking the door shut behind him.

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

It was so cold, your sweater doing little to protect your skin from the snow slowly making its way onto your skin. The freezing air seeming to burn your cheeks as you meandered through the streets of Velaris.

“Hey doll, you seem to be stumbling a bit. Why don’t you let me walk you home?”

You ignored the forward male walking toward you, a sly grin on his face. Home. You just needed to keep walking in the general direction of the House of Wind, and you would be okay. Before you know it, you’ll be curled up in your bed, in comfy clothes, crying over a stupid shadowsinger with bright eyes and a gentle touch. You just needed to keep walking.

“I’m talking to you.”

He was closer now, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You kept your head down, angling your body slightly to keep your distance.

Suddenly, though, your upper arm was grabbed harshly, pulling your entire body to the side and into the stranger. You stumbled over your feet, both the alcohol and adrenaline altering your precision.

“Don’t touch me,” you got out, trying to wrench your arm free from his grip. Your words were less intimidating than you were going for, and the man let out an amused laugh.

“Oh, doll, I’ve got a lot of touching in mind.”

Fear steadily grew in your veins, your chest tightening at the cruel gleam in his eyes.

“Please- please just let me go home."

The male only began dragging you across the pavement, into a dark, damp corner opening up into an alleyway. It was almost small enough to be a passageway, a sort of path in between buildings to help residents of Velaris save time traveling and also be able to admire the gardens opening up farthing down the path.

"I have a mate," you blurted out as he pulled you into the darkness, the lie slipping easily from your tongue. "He'll find you, he'll kill you if you do anything to me."

His grip remained just as tight on your arm as before, his pointed ears sharp enough to look like weapons themselves. Your body was thrumming with fear and panic, and you could feel the tears beginning to make their way onto your cheeks.

"Somehow I doubt that, doll. No male would let their mate walk through the streets at 2am intoxicated and alone..."

You tried to pull your throbbing arm out of his grip, knowing you needed to get away, to run, but he only threw you into the alleyway, pinning your back to the stone wall. You felt your head knock back against it and the breath leave your chest in a punch of wind.

"Do you wanna know why?" He continued, leaning close to your ear.

You let out a sob when his tongue licked up your neck before his hot breath hit your cheek.

"Because there are males like me out there. Even in somewhere as guarded as Velaris."

And then his hands were gripping your sweater, tearing the soft fabric into stray ribbons. You bucked against him, pushing and thrashing, screaming, nails attempting to get under skin, knees attempting to find his crotch, and his hands were retaliating, throwing you, pushing you, punching you. Before you knew it, your ears were ringing and your head had been snapped to the side in the harshest blow you'd ever received.

Your cheek throbbed, its pulse matching the bruises forming on your arm and stomach, and your eye watered from the assault underneath it.

A strong arm was across your collarbones before your mind could come back into focus, a dagger glinting in the moonlight and pointed directly at your throat.

"You don't want me to have to use this, do you doll?"

You could only stare at him with wide eyes, your chest rising and falling in panicked breaths, only causing the knife to touch your throat with each movement.

His blue eyes were sharp and cold, near empty save for the sadistic lust being trained on your body.

You wished he was ugly. You wished his teeth were rotted, his face sunken, but he was fae and all fae had a beauty to them. He wasn't something out of your nightmares or the face of someone you would have expected to harm you. Instead, he was a monster in disguise. Someone who would forever haunt you despite his eyes being a diamond-like blue and his blonde hair shining under the stars.

His free hand slowly made its way into your torn sweater, his rough fingertips grabbing at the raw skin tender from his manhandling. And then he was grabbing at your chest, and you let out a loud cry at the harsh touches and violation.

"I'm begging you to stop, I won't tell anyone-"

The knife knicked your throat, and you could feel a slight wetness coating the skin where you felt a prick.

He shushed you as if you had barely muttered a word, and then his tongue was on you again. Tasting your skin, staking a claim, and you choked on your cries.

"Fuck," he groaned out. "What a lucky male I was to run into you."

You couldn't believe this was happening. Tonight was supposed to be good and happy. You were supposed to spend time with Azriel, he was supposed to see you dressed up and drinking and having fun and want to spend time with you. How could you have been so wrong to place your affections there? To place your trust there?

Your mind urged you to run, to fight despite the dagger against your throat when you felt his hand start to make its way downward, his fingers leaving a trail of shame on your skin before meeting the button of your pants. You would rather chance getting your throat slit than have this taken from you.

But you were frozen. Because you really didn't want to die, and for some reason, you still hoped that someone would remember you. That maybe Azriel would realize he had left you behind and would come looking. Maybe he was already on his way and would save you. He was always good at saving people, at being the hero who exacted justice onto those who harmed his loved ones and innocents.

He would come for you, right? This wasn't going to happen. You weren't going to be raped and you weren't going to die. You would be-

The male's hand traveled past the waistband of your pants, and all you could focus on was the nausea-inducing feel of his fingers on your core.

"You know, this would be a lot more enjoyable for you if you stopped fighting it. It will only hurt more the less turned on you are."

The male spoke as if he were trying to help you. As if he could possibly make this anything other than a horrific, traumatizing, perverted experience.

But no one was helping you. And as one of his fingers swiped through your sex, you thrashed, uncaring of the press of sharp steel into your throat. His hands needed to get off of you, get away from you, please, please, please-

Your hands worked before you could think of these possibly being your last moments, of the muscle he surely had on you, the strength he could exact. You gripped his wrist as strongly as you could, trying to move the dagger away from your throat and toward his own. Teeth gritted, you felt the harsh jerk of his arm swipe the weapon across your skin, but the pain barely registered as you continued to wrestle. His one hand was still in your pants, and you only had seconds before it joined in the battle and overpowered your two hands.

Your leg quickly came up with all its strength, but the male dodged your assault and his hand finally made its way out of your pants to grab at your kicking leg. It didn't matter, though, because as his focus diverted to your leg, you shoved all your strength forward into the hilt of the dagger. Your fingers brushed the sharp edge briefly in your frantic movements, and the blood leaking from your fingers made it difficult to keep your grip on the weapon.

You pushed harder, willing your slick fingers not to slip, because this was your only chance.

And then you felt it as the male's arm faltered, and the sharp tip of the dagger slid into the skin at his neck. The resistance of muscle and tendons on the dagger would forever be ingrained in your mind, but you pushed harder as blood began to spray from his neck wound, from the artery you just ruptured.

The male sputtered and choked, reaching with both of his hands to the dagger piercing into him, but you refused to let go, refused to let off any pressure.

Not until his breathing was stuttering, his knees collapsing from beneath him, and his body fell to the ground in front of you.

Your hand remained grasped on the hilt of the dagger, pulling it from his neck as he fell. And despite the male never reaching his goal, never making it inside of you, you knew something had buried its way deep into your body for the rest of your existence.

Something broke inside of you as you looked at the dead male at your feet, at the blood coating both him and yourself. Something broke as you uncurled your fingers from the sticky weapon, letting it clatter onto the pavement.

It seemed that two people died in that alleyway that night.

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

You gasped, throwing yourself up in your bed, thrashing against the sheets restricting your limbs. Get off, get off, get off-

"Darling..." a calm voice soothed you. "You're alright. It was a nightmare."

Your eyes met warm violet ones, and you immediately felt a rush of relief flow through your body.

"Rhys," you choked out, throat feeling tight.

His hand stroked back some hair out of your face, and you leaned into his comforting touch.

"You're safe. No one can get to you here."

You nodded, breathing deeply as your eyes fell to the duvet that had been pushed to your legs.

"Do you want some water?" He asked.

You knew he was trying to be helpful in whatever way he could, testing the waters with you. But you shook your head. And with the movement, you noticed the gauze was no longer scratching at your skin.

Fingers skimmed your neck, hesitantly searching for the deep cut that had been sliced into your flesh. Instead, your fingertips found a slightly raised scar, spanning about four inches on the center-right side of your throat. You wondered how deep the gash had been to cause a scar even after Madja's healing.

Rhys watched you patiently as you explored the new scar, his breathing even and calm. He seemed to always know how to keep his cool, how to wear a mask when needed, and it reminded you briefly of a certain shadowsinger.

Had he even been to see you? Did he even realize what his actions resulted in? You shut your eyes tightly at the thought, willing the hurt from your mind and chest.

"There are a few things I wanted to talk with you about, if that's okay," Rhys started. His voice was not demanding, and he leaned forward to meet your eyes so that he could read your expression better. He always made sure others were comfortable, and you wondered if this was because of his own past.

You met his eyes and waited.

"First, I want you to know that I am always here to listen to you. I know it might sound overwhelming or unappealing to do so, but I would never forgive myself if you thought you had no one to confide in about this particular situation."

When you only swallowed, not knowing what to say, he continued. "I know what it's like to feel violated, to feel ashamed of your own body, like it's not yours anymore. If you don't want me to talk, I won't. But, I will always be here to listen and offer support should you need it.

"I'm not sure exactly what happened. I would never go into your mind without your permission," he reassured. "But, I also know how cruel this world can be to females. We have resources in the library from the priestesses if you are interested in those as well."

You nodded to the man across from you, and you were grateful he was behaving as your friend, as a protective, supportive presence rather than as the High Lord of the Night Court attempting to sort out a crime in his lands. You gave him a small grateful smile, all that you could muster at the moment.

"Lastly," he took a deep breath, cracking a small smile in return. "I was hoping you would accompany me to the kitchen. You've been resting for a few days now, and Madja thinks it would do your body good to stretch and move around a bit. Your wounds have healed, and the aching should subside as you stretch your limbs and muscles."

You nodded absentmindedly. You weren't terribly hungry, but you did feel the need to stretch your legs.

As you twisted in your spot, Rhys reached out to offer his hand in assistance. It remained outstretched, not touching you without your permission, but there should you need it.

You instead met his eyes and remained in your spot, your feet touching the floor as you sat on the edge of the bed, body facing his own.

"Is everyone down there?"

You couldn't face everyone. Not today and definitely not all at once.

"No," he shook his head, hand slowly lowering back to his side. "Cassian is out training the Valkyries, and I think Azriel is assisting with that too. Feyre and Elain are at the River House - they wanted to give you space. And I basically had to restrain Mor from barging in here and bombarding you."

Good, you thought. This was your business. You appreciated the support, but you wouldn't be able to withstand the pitying looks, not when everyone had an idea of what happened in their head.

"And-" you cleared your throat. "Am I in trouble?"

"Trouble?" Rhys' voice rose a bit, confusion and dismay altering his tone.

"I killed someone."

You could barely get the words out. You were a killer. You had shoved a knife into someone's neck, listened to them choke on their own blood, watched as their life left their eyes-

Rhys was stern as he interrupted your thoughts. "You were attacked. You defended yourself."

You did, but did that matter in the end? Did it clean the blood off your hands? Cassian had found you with a dead body feet away from you and a dagger sitting idly by. If you wouldn't have put your trust in Azriel when he had made it so obvious he wasn't interested in you, would never see you how you wished (if at all), then maybe this wouldn't have happened. If you had taken more lessons from Cassian sooner, maybe you would have known how to approach the situation before it escalated so far, maybe no one would have died.

"Stop." Rhys was bordering the line of High Lord as he looked at you, but his eyes were soft. "Don't do this to yourself. You're going through enough. You were a victim, but you are strong and you made it out."

You didn't know what to say, so you merely nodded and hoped to appease him. His violet eyes didn't look convinced, and you averted your own gaze to the corner of your room to avoid his disappointment.

Your brows quickly furrowed in confusion, though, because something moved. In the dark corner of your bedroom, a wisp of darkness slithered around, and you could feel it watching you.

Azriel.

Rhys followed your eyesight and sighed, his shoulders dropping a bit with exhaustion. "He's had at least one shadow in here at all times since you got home."

You just coughed awkwardly, not wanting to talk about Azriel. "I'm hungry," you lied.

It had the effect you wanted. Rhys watched as you stood, making sure your legs weren't too shaky and that you were strong enough to stand on your own before escorting you out of the room.

As you walked, you noticed someone must have changed you into a pair of your own pajamas and a robe. Your skin and hair felt clean, but not clean. As if Rhys had used his magic to remove the dirt and blood, but your body still demanded a soothing soak with oils and soap.

A brush of something silky brushed up against your ankle, and you nearly jumped before realizing it was the lone shadow from your bedroom following you down the hall. You swallowed down the lump in your throat at the reminder of the shadowsinger. You wanted to kick the shadow from your skin, remove the attention he now cared enough to give you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to be mean to the thing.

It was a relief when it shot from your side and slithered quickly through the tiny crevice of the front door once you reached the main landing.

"The house is yours to command," Rhys said extravagantly, no doubt trying to put a smile on your face. "Whatever you'd like. You want some lobster? A cut of Velaris' finest beast? The eclairs from in town I have to wrestle Feyre away from at times? You name it."

Sitting yourself at the table, you watched as Rhys moved into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

"What are you thinking?"

"Oh, uh-"

But before you could respond, shadows swirled near the front door, and a body was materializing out of the darkness. You would have been grateful for the interruption, because you truly didn't want to eat when you felt so nauseous and disconcerted, but any relief you felt at the distraction immediately dissipated upon seeing the male who had appeared in the House of Wind.

"Azriel," Rhys greeted stiffly. "I thought you were training the Valkyries with Cassian."

Azriel's eyes were slightly wide as he stared at you, his chest rising and falling as if he had run and not winnowed here. "I was. I had…something I had to return to here."

The shadow that had slipped out the door, letting Azriel know you were out of your room. That traitor.

Rhys only gripped the edge of the counter, sending Azriel a warning look. "Well get to it, then. We were just about to eat something."

Azriel ignored him, ignored his high lord, and instead continued to stare at you. You shifted in your seat, unable to stop the pang of hurt that shredded into your chest when you looked into his hazel eyes.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentle but hoarse, as if he were talking to a hurt child or small animal. And he was fidgeting. Azriel, the most composed person you had ever met, seemed nervous.

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even know if you wanted to talk to him. You felt so hurt, so embarrassed, and it was devastating knowing that the kindness and care you had always hoped to be directed toward you was only now displayed in his eyes because of guilt.

Looking like a fool, hesitating to say anything, you had to tear your gaze from his. He looked distraught, eyes underlined with dark shadows of exhaustion and tinged red from either crying or lack of sleep. Your chest hurt at the sight, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Instead, you turned your neck to look toward Rhys.

“Could I just have some tea, please?”

Rhys didn’t answer you though, because his attention was trained on Azriel. And the high lord’s facial expression slowly crumpled from frustration and anger at his friend to something more sympathetic. Watching the movement made you glance back at Azriel, and the look on his face had you shifting in your seat.

His eyes were glistening with tears, his jaw tense and hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was trying to hold onto his composure, but it seemed like he was a second from breaking as his soft hazel eyes stared at the scar on your neck, made apparent when you turned to face Rhys.

“Azriel,” Rhys broke the silence, gentler this time when addressing his friend. “Why don’t you get some tea started for us?”

You all knew that the house could do it. There was no need to heat up a kettle and prepare the tea leaves. But it seemed like the house agreed the shadowsinger needed to do this, because no magical mug of steaming liquid appeared in front of you.

“Sure,” Azriel nodded, licking his lips and swallowing down the obvious lump in his throat. “Of course.”

Then he was moving toward the kitchen where Rhys stood. His back was turned toward you, but even underneath his training leathers, you could see how tense his muscles were.

You subconsciously gripped the sides of your robe tightly, pulling it against you as if the plush fabric offered any protection at all.

You could tell from their stiffness and the silence filling the room that the two brothers were conversing in their minds, and it felt like an eternity before Rhys turned to you.

“I’m going to go let the others know how you’re doing. Maybe try to keep Mor away for one more day to give you some peace.” He chuckled, but you no longer had even the tiniest amount of energy to fake it.

A feeling of anxiety began to simmer beneath your skin, in your fingertips, your chest, the pit of your stomach, and you could only hear your heartbeat in your chest as Rhys came closer.

You had awoken to Cassian in the house with you yesterday, and today you found yourself under the care of the most powerful high lord to ever exist. While the soul of your being felt like it had been shredded to pieces, you had at least felt safe. Alone with Azriel, the male who had cared so little about your safety, he had left you to the crowds the second he could leave with a pretty girl, you didn’t feel as secure.

Please don’t leave me alone, you wanted to tell Rhys. But you also didn’t want to lower your mental shields. The waves of shame and despair that would uncontrollably wash over his mind if you let him in would be too much.

So you stayed still, internally panicking.

Your friend leaned down to lay a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. He was slow in his movements, careful and considerate, and he only pulled away slightly to speak in a low voice.

“If you need anything, there are pens and paper in your room that you can contact me with.”

The words held an underlying message, letting you know that you were not forced to spend your time with anyone. But whatever the two brothers had discussed in the privacy of the kitchen area swayed Rhys enough to let Azriel take care of you for the time being.

He gave you one last soft look before turning to his friend, whose back still faced them as he focused on the kettle. When he realized Azriel wasn’t going to address him again, he nodded slightly before winnowing away, leaving only you, Azriel, and the ruins of your friendship to be sorted out over a cup of tea.

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #acotar fic #acotar x reader #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #acotar imagine

2K notes · View notes

lalacliffthorne · 8 months

Text

📃 the basic rules of friendship 📃

Azriel x Reader

summary: the basic rules of friendship. and how to break them.

notes: oh boy. writing this one was pure and utter chaos. it gave me a headache. it did not want to work out. I changed the whole damn plot like five times, because I just wasn't happy with my ideas; they didn't work, they didn't feel right, but I had this specific part that I really wanted to write around, so I couldn't just give it up and call it a day either. then once I finally had it figured out, it still took ages to finish the whole thing, because my brain just wasn't braining - to sum it up, this lil piece of writing basically fried me. but, the last few days, it got easier, I wasn't just staring at the words anymore and what I wrote finally didn't feel blah - and I made it!

so here are the basic rules of friendship. they are long af, and even though they strongly advise against it, there´s smut. steamy steamy smut.

______________________________________________________________

the basic rules of friendship

no. 1: friends are there for each other (friends also never get jealous).

Staring up at the male in front of me, I hoped my facial expression didn´t convey my current thoughts.

Someone help me.

" - so of course we went in, and even though it was a bit of a struggle, we managed to get them all." The male sent me a grin, and I felt my lips curve, though it probably looked slightly pained.

Mor had decided it was that time of year again where she tried herself at being matchmaker. She had picked me as target of the night, using the festivities as a clever cover to drag me from one male she thought might fit the requirements to the next.

The one I was talking to now was by far the most pleasant one this evening, which was probably why I hadn't bolted yet. He had even managed to make me laugh a few times, while the few males before that had been closer to making me cry in despair. He was fairly pretty too, with a cheeky smile, dimples and warm eyes. And I really should have been interested, because he seemed sweet, and funny, and actually charming.

But it just didn't click.

There was something about him - no, actually, it was something that wasn't there. His humor wasn't dry enough. He was a bit too reserved. He didn't quite get my teasing.

There was just something missing.

The way he smiled didn't do anything for me; no little skip in my chest, no hitch in my breath. His voice didn't send tingles down my spine, the dimple in his cheek was not quite right, he was a bit too hulky -

Something churned a little in my chest, and I almost winced.

Gods, what was wrong with me?

The air behind me shifted, and for a second, I wondered if maybe I had left my mental shields down and either Rhys or Feyre had caught onto my thoughts and had decided to step in before I went down a rabbithole of possibilties of what could be wrong with me.

But then the male in front of me straightened a little, suddenly looking alert, and a familiar scent washed over me, cool and frosty, like pine woods in winter, and something skipped softly against my ribs.

Quickly looking over my shoulder, my eyes moved up, and up, and my shoulders sank a little when they found the face of the male suddenly towering behind me.

Azriel's eyes were piercing, unwavering and unreadable as usual, and they were fixed onto the male in front of me. Shadows were swirling around him, creeping over his wings and shoulders, some gently brushing over my back like a happy greeting.

The shadowsinger's face itself looked like carved from marble, jaw sharp and set, the muscles in his cheeks shifting with what looked strangely like tension.

"Hey." I hoped the relief didn't vibrate too strongly through my voice, quickly turning back towards the male in front of me with an apologetic smile.

I had to give it to him, he had balls: Even though the Spymaster of the Night Court was staring right at him, unsettlingly quiet and brooding, the male hadn't immediately shrunk into himself.

Though he did look very uncomfortable.

"I'm going to -" He pointed over his shoulder, sending me a soft grin, and I smiled back, again hoping the relief wasn't too visible in how bright it was.

One corner of the male's lips curved. Then he turned around, and I felt my shoulders sag.

"Thanks." I breathed out, turning around to send Azriel a relieved, crooked smile.

The shadowsinger's eyes followed after the male for another second before they turned down towards me, and his gaze lost some of that unreadable coolness, softening. His eyes moved over my face, and he seemed to catch onto something, because his gaze narrowed in, and a slight crease formed between his brows.

And because it was Azriel, he didn't even have to ask.

The words just tumbled out before i could stop them.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Azriel's lips parted a little. Then his eyes sharpened, his shoulders shifting as his gaze moved up over my head, zeroing in on somebody behind me, and something skipped high in my chest at the way his gaze froze over, becoming steely and quietly raging like a rising tide-

Hastily, I widened my eyes.

"No, no; he didn't -", I huffed and breathed out, turning my eyes towards the twinkling night sky in a half-laugh. "It's not because of him, it's - me."

The dangerous promise in Azriel's eyes vanished with a blink, but the light crease between his brows deepend as his gaze returned to my face. The warm lights dotted all over the House of Winds' terraces threw shadows under his jaw and made his amber eyes glow softly, his dark hair tousled and skin rosy from the cool wind.

"It's just -" I exhaled again, furrowing my brows softly at myself.

"There's this male, who's actually not a jerk, and who seems good and funny and interested, and - nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just kept finding things that were wrong, even though I don't even know what would have been right, and -", I shook my head and looked up at Azriel, frowning gently as something churned a little in my chest.

"Is there? Something wrong with me?"

Azriel stared at me before huffing, and something tipped over in my chest when a soft snorted laugh broke from his throat.

I frowned, feeling something tighten a little under my ribs. "What?"

Azriel's lips were still twitching upwards like I had just made some sort of joke only he understood as he turned his face away, shaking his head a little. Then he looked back down at me. His amber eyes moved over me for a moment, and there was something in the way he stared at me that soothed the soft twinge under my ribs.

Azriel blinked, then he said steadily, his low, deep voice gently tickling my spine: "There's nothing wrong with you." His gaze moved over my face, and something I couldn't place shifted in his eyes, tinging his voice when he added: "He just wasn't what you're looking for."

"I don't even know what I'm looking for,", I grumbled under my breath, but there was a soft skip in my chest, that bit of tightness gone when I looked up at Azriel. "How am I supposed to find something when I don't know what it looks like?"

Az blinked again, eyes resting on mine. "You'll know."

I felt my brows furrow gently at the sound of his voice, a little quiet and distant but so, so sure.

Feeling my lips twitch, I raised an eyebrow. "That's sappy."

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched even as he glared down at me, almost like he couldn't hold back the way they curved at the corners. Then he lightly raised a brow. "Mor looks like she's got the next target."

I cursed softly and quickly slid my hand into the crook of his arm, bumping my shoulder into his biceps.

"Come on, let's go, I need a drink."

no. 2: friends talk about their feelings.

“What the fuck was that?”

The door slammed behind me, and I raised my head just in time to see Azriel turn around, his eyes burning into mine so fiercely, I almost held my breath.

Running a hand down my face, I shook my head, my voice tired when I mumbled: “Can we not –“

“I told you to get out, and you didn't listen, you disobeyed orders –“

“Orders?” I stared at him, feeling something begin to bubble in my chest. “You told me to run and fucking leave you!”

“And you didn't!” Azriel´s voice sounded like thunder, not simmering anger, but loud and deep. Shadows gathered around his feet, and his wings flared when he stalked towards me, blood dripping from the wound in his side, but he didn't even seem to notice. “You came back when I told you to leave, you could've died!”

“You would have died!” My voice was incredulous as I stared at him with wide eyes, and Azriel's jaw tightened as he took one last step forward, his chest almost pressing into mine as he glared down at me.

“Then I would have died.” His voice was quiet again and cold, so cold, but his eyes were whirling with emotions I couldn't decipher as they burned into mine. “But you would have been safe.”

Staring up at him, my eyes blown wide, I felt my breathing pick up as I tried to fight against the way my chest grew tighter with every second. Then I exploded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Azriel blinked like I had slapped him across the face, but it felt like some kind of dam had broken, because the words just started falling, becoming louder with every second.

“I don't give a shit about being safe if it means you try and sacrifice yourself! You asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?! I couldn't just leave you because I will never leave you to sacrifice yourself like your fucking life means nothing, because it does, it means everything!” My voice broke as my voice rose into a scream, and I felt tears well in my eyes as the ache under my ribs grew and I hit my fist against his chest.

“You're hurt, you would have died!! What the hell is wrong with you that you think I could just leave you for death, you moron, what would I be living for if you died, especially because of me; it wouldn't mean a thing!” My vision blurred as tears streamed over my cheeks. Azriel stared at me like he had never seen me before, frozen in place as I heaved with quiet sobs, my whole body trembling as I tried to fight for air.

“Don't you get it? You're –“ My voice broke.

Everything.

Azriel's eyes pierced mine, emotion whirling in them, jumbled, indiscernable. Then he blinked.

“Come here,”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse, and I breathed in shudderingly, tears streaming over my face when his hand closed around my elbow and he pulled me forward, not caring a bit that he was still dripping blood onto the carpet as he dragged me into his chest.

“I'm sorry.” I could feel his low voice vibrating through my body, quiet and rough when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and buried his nose in my hair, and I hiccuped, feeling tears stream over my face as I slid my own arms around his middle and clung to him.

“Never ask that of me -” My voice broke, and Azriel tightened his grip, the tension not leaving his frame as he slipped his hand up my back to tangle his fingers in my hair, his thumb slowly brushing over my skin when he raised his head a little to press his lips against my temple.

“I'm sorry,”, he mumbled against my skin, soft but hoarse, and I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, my body trembling with silent, heaving sobs as I held onto the male who held me.

no. 3: friends might engage in the occasional amicable teasing.

That was it.

Stopping in the middle of the street only a few feet away from the entrance to Rita's, I barely kept myself from wincing as I leaned forward, trying to balance on one foot as I started unlacing the straps of my high heels. They were murderously high, and, together with the cobblestone streets and the drinks I had, that meant mortal danger for my ankles and my dignity.

Plus, they were beginning to hurt like shi-

I almost lost my balance, feeling myself tip to the side and how my eyes widened. But then a hand slipped under my arm and steadied me, and my breath hitched a little when my gaze darted up.

Azriel raised a brow at me.

“Oh, shut up,”, I grumbled quickly under my breath, trying to ignore the soft skip in my chest at the way his golden eyes were twinkling almost indiscernably as I slipped out of the first heel.

Groaning happily in relief as I rolled my ankle, I carefully placed my foot on the cold ground, trying not to wince at the ache jolting through it when I shifted my weight onto it.

Azriel kept his hand under my arm, his scarred skin warm in the cool night air, even as I balanced a lot easier, undoing the laces of the second heel.

Slipping out of it, I straightened, breathing out and trying not to squirm at the soreness of my feet when I shifted on the cold cobblestone. Then I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly.

Az was still staring down at me, brows drawn together a little as he narrowed his eyes at me.

I frowned back at him suspiciously. “What?”

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched upwards as he shook his head and stepped forward, and I felt my eyes widen when he leaned down.

“No, wait –“

The shadowsinger slipped his arms under my thighs and lower back, and a soft squeal broke from my lips when he straightened back up, easily sweeping me off my feet.

My hands gripped his back, and my heart jumped into my throat when Azriel hoisted me up a little to adjust his grip, the motion causing me to slide up and down in his arms. I hastily clung to him and stared at him desperately.

“Are you serious?”

Azriel's eyes were twinkling a little when he threw me a look. “You looked like you were going to hobble the way home.”

I huffed, scowling at him, but it probably looked more like a pout, because the shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek. Then he raised a brow at me.

“All set?”

Grumbling softly under my breath, I leaned forward a little to gather my shoes in one hand. Azriel changed his grip to hold me steady, his breath brushing over my temple and causing something to flutter gently against my ribs, and I tried to ignore the sudden dip in my throat.

Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I pressed my forehead against his shoulder and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Alright, ready.”

There was a soft, amused huff that made Azriel's body vibrate. Then he started moving, setting down the street, every long, steady step sending a soft jolt through my body.

I blinked before cracking open an eye and furrowing my brows in confusion.

“We're walking?”

From my position, I saw only one side of Azriel's face as he looked ahead, but there was a curve to his lips that caused something to swerve sharply in my chest when he threw me a look.

“Unless you want to almost throw up again.”

I raised my head quickly to glower at him.

“That was one time."

"I wasn't actually aware anyone could turn that shade of green before you did." One corner of Azriel's lips tipped upwards.

I scowled at him. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

Azriel still looked ahead, but I saw the crease in his cheek deepening.

“Unlikely.”

I scowled, trying to bite back the stupidly wide smile that was suddenly threatening to break out over my face as I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don't like you.”

“I know. You want to hold on any tighter?”

I lightly bonked one of my shoes against the side of his head and earned myself a glare.

Breathing a soft giggle that bubbled in my chest, I exhaled, slowly melting into Azriel's hold as I loosely draped one arm over his collarbones and propped my chin onto his shoulder. Staring at his profile, I felt something flutter softly against my ribs, my heart skipping steadily as my eyes tracked over his straight nose, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the warm light of the lanterns and his soft looking lips.

The shadowsinger threw me a look, and I could see the amusement flashing through in his eyes.

“What?”

I shrugged.

“You're pretty.” I sent him a bright, cheeky smile.

Azriel blinked, and it almost looked like the top of his cheekbones started to darken a little, like the lightest shade of pink dusted his skin –

One corner of my lips slowly quirked as I softly narrowed my eyes.

“Are you blushing?” I started to grin widely. “Azriel, are you –“

The shadowsinger's grip shifted, and I squealed softly when I could feel myself being dropped for nothing more than a heartbeat.

Hastily clinging to his shoulders, I raised my head to glare at Azriel incredulously only to find him smirking, just the tiniest bit.

I huffed, something flutter harshly against my ribs as I scowled at the shadowsinger.

“I really don't like you."

no. 4: friends spend quality time together.

Diving, I avoided a swing of Azriel's wing, sliding over the mats and raising my head.

My heart skipped high, and I barely ducked out of the way, Azriel's wings almost translucent in the light of the sinking sun when he flared them to keep his balance, shadows whirling around him as he dodged a blow, a strand of dark hair falling into his forehead, muscles working under his sweaty, glowing skin -

Something caught against the back of my heel and ripped me off my feet.

My back hit the mats with a thud, and all the air was pressed out of my lungs, causing me to grunt softly. My heart skipped in its race against my ribs, and I relaxed into the mats with a huff, scowling when Azriel appeared above me, lips curving upwards as he squinted down at me, barely out of breath.

"Didn't we just talk about never letting your guard down?"

Huffing, I rolled my eyes, feeling a bead of sweat run over my temple and how my hair stuck to my skin when I just laid flat on the mats for a second before holding out my hand with a grumble.

The second Azriel's fingers closed firmly around my wrist, I pulled, my foot catching against his chest and using his own momentum to send him flying over my head.

The shadowsinger crashed onto his back with a heavy thud and a grunt, and I whirled around, using his hand to pull myself up and onto his torso, thighs clamping down next to his hips and my whole weight pressing down onto his chest as I pinned his wrists onto the mats right above his head and smiled widely.

But my remark along the lines of Right back at you, pretty boy got stuck in my throat.

Azriel's eyes were barely an inch away. I could count the golden spots in his amber iris, and the dark lashes framing them under dark brows between which a little crease sat that smoothed over slowly. And they were staring up at mine. I could feel his breath, warm and a little uneven as it brushed over my skin, could feel the steadiness of his piercing eyes as they stared into mine and how solid his chest was, pressed against mine.

My heart fluttered wildly; I hastily moved back a little, and suddenly, something in Azriel's eyes shifted, his body going still beneath mine.

I needed a second until I realised why; why suddenly, Azriel's gaze burning into mine looked different, why he had tensed and his lips were standing just a little agape. But then I shifted again, and Azriel grunted softly, his hips twitching.

Right under my ass.

My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widened a little, and I grew still, staring down at the male pinned onto the mats who'd completely frozen beneath me as my heart suddenly thumped in my throat and something twinged tightly in my lower stomach.

"Sorry,", I whispered, my voice soft and a little breathy, and a spark flashed through Azriel's eyes.

The next second, I was pushed around, all the air escaping my lungs when I crashed onto my back again, and my heart simply gave out when my body was pressed into the mats, hips lodged between my thighs keeping me down and Azriel's face only an inch away, dark hair falling down onto his forehead as his eyes twinkled and one corner of his lips rose.

"Got you."

I blinked, something pounding and fluttering harshly against my ribs as my breath hitched and I stared up into Azriel's golden amber eyes, his lips curving and fingers loosely wrapped around my wrists, just lightly holding them to the ground next to my head as shadows whispered, slowly swirling around his shoulders. Then Azriel's lips twitched, and his hands slipped away, pressing into the mats as he pushed himself up and his weight disappeared.

I stared up at the soft blue sky high above, the first stars twinkling down at me while my heart was skipping, missing beats in my chest until Azriel offered me a hand, the twinkle still in his eyes causing me to huff.

no. 5: friends are comfortable with each other (but not overly).

Grumbling softly, I buried deeper in the cushions. There was a heavy weight resting on my waist, and something warm pressed into my back, a body, tall and solid, wrapped around me. A familiar scent surrounded me like a blanket, engulfing me and filling my lungs, and something started to flutter softly against my ribs when I tiredly cracked open an eye.

My sight was blurry with sleep as my gaze slowly tracked over the coffee table and the open doors leading into the garden, the sun already sinking and dipping everything in a golden light -

My heart jumped softly when the tall body curved around mine shifted, the arm closed around my waist tightening, and my gaze slowly focused on the hand wrapped around my wrist, laying on the cushion of the couch right in front of my face.

My mind was still tired and foggy with sleep as from under half-closed lids, my gaze dragged over the long, slim fingers, a palm far bigger than my own, veins running up a tanned forearm and the marred skin, scarred tissue rough but warm against my skin.

A soft, tired sound vibrated through my body, the thighs lodged between my calves shifting. Then I felt warm breath brush over my skin, and as I shivered softly, Azriel buried his nose at the back of my neck and grumbled lightly. Something skipped high in my chest at the deepness of the sound, how raspy it was.

There was a soft tap against my mental shields, and with a huff, I let them down.

"Please don't tell me you two are still napping."

Rhys' amused voice vibrating through my head made me grumble softly into the cushions, and from the way Azriel's lips curved upwards as he huffed softly against my neck, sending another shiver down my spine, the same question had sounded through his mind as well.

"Weren't you the one who told me that with less than ten hours of sleep, I get unbearably grumpy?", I thought.

There was a light snicker in my mind. Then Azriel growled softly. I didn't know what Rhys had said to him, but it made his grip tighten as he scowled into my neck.

There was one last chuckle in my head followed by a gentle sensation resembling a friendly headbutt before the familiar presence disappeared, leaving everything quiet again.

Breathing out, I squinted tiredly, the haze of sleep slowly dissipating.

Shifting on the spot, I started to wrestle myself around. Azriel grunted softly when I accidentally kicked his shin, and a breathy, sleepy giggle broke from my throat, then I buried myself in his chest. Exhaling, I felt Azriel slide his arm around my waist, his hand coming up to tuck my head under his chin. His fingers slipped into my hair, scratching gently over my scalp, and I groaned happily, causing the shadowsinger to huff in amusement.

His thumb lightly brushed over my cheek, and something skipped gently against my ribs, fluttering lightly.

no. 6: friends don't stare at each other (for too long).

Moving down the stairs, I slipped my fingers under one of the thin straps of the black silk dress softly swishing around my legs, pulling it up my shoulder. I could feel the hilts of my knives gently press against my thigh where they were tucked into the legs of my boots, the heavy heels thumping softly on the steps and the golden earrings Mor had lent me clinking softly. The heavy black leather coat Cass had gifted me a few years ago was draped over my arm, daggers hidden in the specially constructed lining.

It was time to charme some people. Maybe kick some ass.

Hopefully the latter.

Turning to walk down the last pair of stairs into the entrance hall, I grinned when Feyre tapped against my mind's walls, and when I let her in, her voice echoed through my head.

"Are you ready?"

Ready as ever.

"Alright, we'll be there and pick you up in a second."

Feeling my lips quirk as I sent an enthusiastic mental thumbs up her way and hearing her laugh, I raised my head.

My eyes met amber ones, and my breath hitched a little, my movement faltering for just a second.

Azriel stilled. Went completely quiet, head turned back to look up at me, eyes flickering over me, and his lips parted. Just a bit, nothing more than a little gap as his gaze slowly dragged down and up again, and he blinked, the crease between his brows smoothing over into nothing as he simply - stared.

"What?", I mumbled, feeling my lips curve in a soft, sheepish smile as I moved down the last step.

Azriel blinked again, gaze sliding over me, and something shifted in his eyes, something I couldn't decipher but that made my breath hitch.

My gaze flickered over him, and there was a strange little hop in my chest. He was wearing his fighting leathers, nothing unusual, black shoulderplates making him look even broader, daggers strapped around his lean torso and onto his thighs.

Tearing my eyes away from his chest, I tried to ignore the way my heart performed a double flip when I found Azriel's gaze still pinned onto me, piercing my skin.

The shadowsinger blinked, and his throat worked a little like he was suppressing the urge to swallow. Then he slowly turned and stepped towards me. Wordlessly, he held out a hand, and I needed a second before realising what he wanted.

Huffing at myself and cracking a grin, I handed him my coat, and Azriel unfolded it, holding it open for me to slide into the sleeves. The lining was cool against my skin as Az slipped it over my shoulders, and I barely suppressed a soft shudder when his fingers, still out of his gloves, brushed against my neck, carefully pulling my braid out from under the heavy leather.

Turning around, I straightened the lapels and raised my head, and my heart fluttered up, getting caught on in my throat like my breath when Azriel reached out.

His fingers brushed against my waist as he pushed the coat to the side, and a small crease formed between his brows when his hand ghosted over an empty sheath. He straightened a little, and my lips parted, something suddenly rising in my chest when he pulled a dagger from one of the sheaths strapped to his chest. The silver blade flashed in the warm light when Azriel carefully pulled my coat to the side and slid it into the lining. Then his fingers brushed over the hilts concealed by the black silk, checking every single one of them as my heart thrummed into my throat and I stared up at him, his face a lot closer with his head dipped for a better view of the lining, brows drawn together in concentration, amber eyes clear and focused.

Sliding his hand against my waist to check the other side, Azriel raised his head; his gaze found mine, and my breath hitched when he slowly straightened back up a little.

With a soft swoosh of air, Feyre appeared in the middle of the foyer, and somehow, I managed to tear my gaze away from Azriel's to look over at her. She was wearing a silky dress similiar to mine, dark like the night sky and with high slits very practical for any sort of well-placed kick.

Feyre stilled for just a second when her eyes moved over Azriel, standing so close to me that his chest almost touched mine and yet not making any move to step back, before finding mine, and something like a light twinkle flashed through her iris. Then she blinked and raised her brows. "You two ready?"

Blinking, I looked back up at Az, and my breath hitched.

The shadowsinger was still staring down at me. I wasn't sure he had even looked when Feyre had winnowed in, and he didn't react when Mor appeared next to Feyre either, wearing a dark red dress with a deep neckline. Both of them looked ready to smile charmingly and, if necessary, press a knife to someone's throat, but Azriel didn't even cast them a glance.

His eyes were on me, and suddenly, it felt a little hard to breathe.

Azriel's gaze cleared just a little, and he shifted, shoulders straightening.

"Give me a sign if you need me." I knew his deep voice was directed at the other two as well, but his eyes didn't stray away from mine, waiting until I nodded lightly. Then he took a step back, and shadows swallowed him.

Feyre cleared her throat lightly, and when I looked over at her with a blink, one corner of her lips had curved upwards, her iris twinkling. But she just raised her brows, and Mor held out her hand, her eyes bright as she beamed at me.

Staring at the two of them for a moment in confusion, I then blinked and shook my head lightly, moving towards them. Mor sent me a wink.

"You look hot."

I nodded. "As opposed to how I usually look."

Feyre lightly rolled her eyes and Mor flicked my forehead, and snickering, I took her offered hand.

no. 7: friends don't kiss.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs when Azriel raised his head.

He was sitting on the edge of my mattress, wearing only soft looking pyjama pants, his hair tousled and a little damp, like he had taken a shower earlier.

Sending him a soft, cheeky grin, I felt my brows furrow gentle. "Hey."

Azriel's eyes tracked down my body, over the large soft sweater and the too big pyjama pants that both had probably belonged to him at some point, and I shifted a little on the spot. Then his gaze turned back towards my face, and one corner of his lips rose into a small, crooked smile.

Slowly starting to walk towards him, I let my gaze flicker over his face, feeling the curious crease between my brows deepen.

"What are you doing here?"

Azriel blinked. His eyes tracked over my face, slow, a little tired but warm in the soft light.

"Just -" He broke off before huffing and shaking his head. "I don't know. Can´t sleep."

I felt my lips curve and sent him a cheeky smile. "I could read something to you."

Azriel's lips curved, and his gaze moved over mine. "I doubt that would help."

"Hey, my reading skills aren't that bad, alright?" I grinned.

Azriel raised his brows, and I lost the fight against the soft giggle building in my throat.

"Oh, shut up."

The shadowsinger's cheek creased a little. He was still staring at me, and I caught something shifting in his eyes as a muscle in his jaw tightened and relaxed again.

Something shifted in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly.

I could feel Azriel freeze a little. One second. Two. Then his shoulders sagged a bit, and his arms slowly slid around my waist, squeezing lightly. It was funny, like this; with him sitting on the edge of the mattress, the size different was reversed for once, me dropping my head to press my nose against his shoulder and Az burying his face at my collarbone.

Holding onto him for another second, I slowly moved back, feeling my lips rise softly. Azriel's arms slipped off my waist, and his muscles shifted when he turned his head. Then he went still, and when I looked up in confusion, my breath hitched.

Golden eyes stared into mine, lips opened just a bit. I could see the shadow of a few freckles on a straight nose, the softness of his lips. And suddenly, my heart was quiet.

The tip of my nose softly nudged against Azriel's, and his eyes fluttered, the muscles in his jaw working as his fingers dug into the cotton of my pants. Then he lightly raised his chin, and his nose brushed past mine again, causing a tingling shiver to travel over my skin, down my spine and into my fingers, making them tremble as I curled them into his shoulders.

I didn't know if I leaned down or Azriel up.

Didn't know if my hand slipping to the back of his neck was first, or his fingers closing around my hips, dragging me forward a little.

All I knew was that his lips were warm and soft and that they were pressed against mine, gentle but soon almost a little feverish.

That his breath was harsh, trembling when he exhaled against my skin.

And that suddenly, my heart wasn't quiet anymore. That it was rising in my chest like a storm, fluttering more violently with every second until breathing was difficult.

Slowly, Azriel broke away, just far enough for his nose to bump against mine again and his unsteady breath to hit my lips. When I forced open my eyes, something flipped against my ribs, because his were still closed, his chest moving quickly as his finger dug into my hips and he swallowed harshly. Then Azriel opened his eyes, and all air I had managed to get left me. Because the gold in his iris was melting together and his lids were heavy and for a moment, he looked a little bit like he wasn't quite there. But then our noses brushed and his lids fluttered and a soft sound broke from his chest that made the world tip over.

"You -" His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, uneven and more hoarse than I had ever heard it, and Azriel's jaw worked, brows drawing together like he was forcing himself to focus as his eyes found mine, something in them that was strange and pleading and burning when he mumbled raspily: "If you let me kiss you again, I won't be able stop."

My heart skipped once and high and harsh. Then I whispered, soft and a little shakily: "I don't think I want you to stop."

Azriel's cheek muscles shifted and he shuddered, like the thought alone -

His fingers dug into my hips, tugging me closer as he pressed his forehead against mine and mumbled roughly: "If you kiss me again -"

I leaned forward and kissed him breathlessly, and Azriel's grip slipped before tightening as a deep rumble built in his throat and he pushed forward and kissed me back like he'd been waiting for centuries.

no. 8: friends never, ever, under no circumstances - well, you can probably guess where this is going.

My breath tumbled when Azriel dragged me closer, closer until my body curved into his sitting one and he kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him afloat, deep and desperate and causing my heart to tip over in my chest when his tongue dragged over mine and his hand slipped under my soft sweater.

A soft shuddering breath left me when his rough fingers ghosted over my back, trailing up my spine, and my fingers curled into his hair, causing a deep sound to rumble through Azriel's body. His other hand closed firmly around my hips, then he pulled back, and my heart skipped into my throat at the sight of his eyes, glazed over and hazy.

Azriel's lips parted just a little and his throat worked when he slid his hand from my back to my front, fingers pushing up the hem of my sweater, up until it was bunched up under my breasts, and my spine turned to jelly when Azriel turned his burning gaze away from my face and dropped his head to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss against my ribs.

My hand flew up to tangle in the soft hair at the back of his head, my eyes fluttering, and Azriel groaned softly, deep in his throat as his hand slipped up to press against my back, pushing me into him until my thighs were pressed against the inside of his and he leaned forward, lips dragging over my skin as he began to trail hot kisses over my stomach.

My head fell back as something rose in my chest, wild and madly fluttering. My lower stomach tightened, quivering, causing my breath to hitch.

It felt like with every kiss, Azriel pulled the floor out from under me, over and over again, the whole world swaying around me whenever he got closer to where my sweater was bunched up under my breasts, my fingers digging into his hair when he dipped down again.

It seemed like he was trying to taste every inch of my skin, breath heavy and uneven, grip tightening around me when his teeth grazed over the skin right under the seam of my bra, and I whimpered.

A small, guttural sound built in Azriel's chest, and he attacked the spot, dragging my body into his, kissing and biting until I could feel my skin pulse. My eyes fluttered as my head tipped back a little and I felt my lips open, and the shadowsinger pressed a scarred hand flat against my spine, running his nose over the bruise like a breathless apology. Then he raised his head, and my heart skipped, tipping over at the sight of his hazy eyes, honeyed iris clouded, lids heavy and soft lips swollen. A strand of dark hair fell into his forehead, and the way he was staring at me caused my breath to stumble, hitch and flutter, his throat working as he swallowed and tugged me forward, slowly pulling me with him as he leaned back, and my heart tipped over in my chest when he dragged me down into his lap.

I could feel Azriel's grip shift, saw the flutter of his lids as my chest pressed into his, and everything under my ribs coiled when his hot, unsteady breath brushed over my lips, his nose softly nudging against mine.

My fingers curled into his shoulders as I tried to breathe, even though it felt impossible with his scent invading my senses, his chest against mine and his arm heavy on my waist as his palm pressed against my back, gently urging me forward.

My hips rolled down, and Azriel's lids fluttered the same second my lips fell open as I felt his hard cock press against me, his hands slipping down to close around my hips, and I almost expected him to push me away, bring distance between us -

Azriel dragged my hips forward, and I inhaled softly, sharply, something hot zipping through my lower stomach and pulsing when I ground down against the bulge in Azriel's pants. His lips were parted just a bit, his breathing harsh as his nose nudged against mine, lids heavy. Then his grip around my hips tightened, fingers digging into my skin, and my breath hitched and stumbled when he started guiding my movements, his eyes fixed onto my face like they were burning through me, hazy but piercing.

I barely bit back a soft whimper when Azriel's hot, unsteady breath grazed over my lips, my fingers digging into his hair as I rocked against him, tantalizingly but deliciously slow. Azriel's nose brushed over mine, his hands shifting on my hips, rocking me down harder, and something twisted harshly in my stomach, a wave of heat washing over me.

Before I could stop myself, I pulled him towards me, and Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.

My heart rose into my throat, fluttering as I felt myself twist around nothing, and I whimpered, curling my fingers into the back of Azriel's neck when he kissed me like I was his last breath, devouring, desperate. His tongue slid against mine as his hands slipped under my sweater, curving around my waist, and something swelled in my chest when his rough warm skin pressed against mine, his thumb brushing over my ribs, up against the underside of my breast.

I moaned softly into his mouth, causing his grip to tighten and drag me closer like I wasn't already pressed flush into his chest. His hands closed around the hem of my sweater and pulled it up, up until I had to break away for him to tug it over my head. My arms slipped back over his shoulders, and Azriel leaned forward, into me, kissing me again, deep and hard as he threw my sweater carelessly into the room.

My fingers dug into Azriel's shoulders when his hands slipped under my thighs. Then he lifted me up, turning to place my back on the mattress, his warm, solid body between my legs pushing my knees apart and causing something in my chest to rise and flutter madly, and a soft groan broke from his chest when his body pressed down into mine.

My fingers curled into his hair, and Azriel broke the kiss to drop his head, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair and dragging my head back as he began to press slow, hard kiss against my throat, his heavy, uneven breath hitting my skin as his teeth grazed over my skin. A whimper fled my throat, and my eyes rolled back lightly.

A deep, rough sound rumbled through Azriel´s chest, and his lips brushed lower, kisses growing more deep, more desperate the lower his rough hands slipped on my sides as he slowly made his way down my torso. My body arched into him as he breathed harshly, kissing and nipping at my skin as he pulled down my pants. Then his nose grazed the rim of my panties, and my head fell back as my insides twitched and Azriel groaned deep in his chest.

His hot, harsh breath brushed over the soaked material, and his nose nuzzled against my hip like he was trying to reign himself in, the tension in his shoulders looking unbearable as his lips ghosted over where my thigh and middle met. Then Azriel's fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down, and a soft groan left him, almost desperate.

Raising my hips to help him shimmy the material down my legs, I expected him to move back up my body. But Azriel didn't. His shoulders pushed my thighs apart, and my heart stilled, simply stopped when without hesitation, Azriel sank to his knees.

My breath caught when his hands closed around my hips and dragged me towards him, and a whimpering sound left me when I felt his nose gently nudge against my skin, an ache spreading through my lower stomach like a weight.

My hips bucked, my fingers digging into the sheets, and with a soft rumbling sound leaving him, Azriel pushed one of my legs over his shoulder and dipped his head.

My lips fell open, my heart stilled, and my whole body became weightless when Azriel slowly ran his tongue through my folds. My eyes flew down, finding his, heavily lidded and hazy, a strand of dark hair falling into his face between my legs, and a deep groan rumbled deep in his chest. Then he dropped his head and dove in.

My head fell back against the mattress, and my back arched.

Azriel moved like a male starving devouring his last meal. His warm tongue lapped at me, running over my clit, pressing down and flicking before his mouth closed over it, and my eyes rolled into my head as breathless moans spilled from my lips.

Azriel's fingers dug into the top of my thigh, his other hand slipping up to press onto my stomach as his eyes fluttered and a moan vibrated in his chest. He sounded more enthusiastic than I had ever heard him; like right where he was, settled between my legs, his nose brushing over my skin as he dipped his head to lap and suck at me eagerly, was exactly, precisely where he had always wanted to be –

His tongue flicked over my clit, and my hand flew up to press over my mouth as a loud whimper broke from my lips. But Azriel's fingers slipped around my elbow, and something flipped in my chest, rising and fluttering violently when he gently tugged my hand away from my mouth, his own sliding down my arm until his rough, scarred fingers slid between mine, lacing them together as his eyes pierced my face, clouded and lids heavy like he wasn´t quite there. Then he ran his tongue firmly over my clit, and I moaned, breathily and drawn as I curled my fingers into the sheets above my head.

The weight in my stomach grew slowly, twisting tighter and tighter, and my back arched as a deep groan left Azriel, like what he was doing right now, fingers laced with mine, eyes hazy and hair dishevelled, was the best satisfaction I could give him. The muscles in his cheeks worked as he sucked eagerly on my clit, pressing his tongue against the sensitive spot, eyes never leaving my face even as they fluttered, and I felt my lips fall open at the sight of him.

My fingers dug into the sheets as I could feel myself pulse around nothing, the pressure in my lower stomach slowly building as whimpers left me and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as whispered curses broke from my lips and my breath heaved, and Azriel's hum vibrated through me. Then his tongue ran over my clit and he sucked, hard, obscene sounds filling the room as he kept pushing and pushing –

The knot in my stomach collapsed and my back arched off the mattress, hips bucking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, my insides twisting and exploding like stars and loud whining sounds breaking from my lips as my eyes rolled back.

I felt Azriel's soft moan more than I heard it, sending vibrations through my body and causing my hand to fly down and dig into his hair. My hips jerked and rolled as my thighs twitched, sharp twinges of pleasure causing my whole body to spasm, but Azriel didn't stop. His tongue lapped at everything he could get, eyes fluttering as another groan rumbled through his body, making me whimper, and he moved, fingers digging into my thigh, keeping it wrapped over his shoulder as he pushed closer, sucking harshly, tongue swirling, and I could feel my stomach twist and turn as another knot built, even tighter and bigger than before.

My mouth fell open, my head pressing into the mattress; Azriel gave a soft sound, maybe an encouragement or a plea, and the world simply slipped away, bursting into a million pieces as the knot exploded, crashing down into a wave so violent, my body shuddered.

My insides tightened, tightened with pleasure so blinding, I couldn't breathe, no sound leaving me as I twitched and writhed, and Azriel kept going, kept sucking my clit into his mouth, tongue pressing against it and flicking over me until my trembling fingers curled deeper into his hair, because it was too much, too good, too much -

My insides twisted, twitching as my knees shook and a breathless whimper left me, and I dug my nails into Azriel's scalp and tugged, tugged harshly until with a soft rumble, the shadowsinger pulled away.

My heart missed a beat, another.

Azriel's pupils were blown, eyes heavily lidded and a little far away when he raised his head, licking his swollen lips. His mouth and chin were glistening as he slid his hands off my thighs, and my breath hitched.

The bed dipped when Azriel pushed himself to his feet to move up my body, his arms pressing down next to my head, his bare chest brushing over mine and his knee pressing into the mattress between my thighs. His nose softly nudged against mine, like a silent question of you alright, and something tipped over in my chest, rising and fluttering.

Quickly, I slipped my hands into his hair and pulled him down, and Azriel groaned softly when I pressed my lips feverishly against his. His body sank into mine when he kissed back, deep and desperate.

My heart skipped against my ribs, and I wrapped a leg over his back, because he still wasn't close enough, not where my middle was pulsing -

The shadowsinger went rigid under my touch when I dragged him down, down until his whole body pressed into mine and I could feel -

Azriel caught my hand, grip tight around my fingers as he breathed heavily, his voice hoarse as he mumbled against my lips: "Are you sure -"

A moan slipped past my lips, soft and pleading as my insides turned, something hot washing over me as I nodded into the kiss, maybe a bit too frantic, too eager, but it didn't matter, not with the groan leaving Azriel's throat, rumbling through his body in what felt like pure relief and desperation.

I tugged at his pants, feeling them slip down his hips and over his legs as Azriel pushed my thighs apart. His lips dragged over mine, then I could feel the tip of his cock nudging against my folds.

My breath gave out, an ache spreading through my body as I whimpered, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he moved in the spot, trying to find an angle with him kneeling on the side of the mattress -

A soft, impatient sound left him; his hands slipped under my backside, and Az lifted me up.

My breath hitched, my arms quickly sliding over his shoulders when Azriel straightened, lips crashing against mine as my chest pressed into his, and I moaned when I could feel him rub up against me as he turned around.

My back hit the wall, and I whimpered, Azriel's tongue dragging over mine as he pushed closer, dragging my thigh up his side as his tip brushed through my folds, way easier like this for him to -

My heart got caught in my throat. My lips fell open, and my heart rose into my throat as I felt myself stretch around Azriel's cock, his hard length pressing at my walls he slowly began to push in.

Azriel dropped his forehead against mine with a strained grunt, his back muscles flexing as my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders, harsh breath hitting my skin as he slowly began to work his way in.

Whimpering softly, I shifted my hips, because he was big and I felt too tight and -

My eyes fluttered, a quiet sound leaving me when my walls closed around him, pulling him in, and Azriel's grip tightened when his hips settled against mine. His hand pressed against the wall over my head he breathed heavily against my lips, nose nudging against mine, and I whimpered, tugging him closer.

A soft groan left Azriel, and his hand slid down to the side of my neck, tilting my head back to kiss me. It was messy and breathless and I whimpered when his tongue slid against mine, his teeth sinking softly into my bottom lip and pulling lightly. His nose nudged against mine, then Azriel slipped his hand down to grip the back of my thigh, pulling it higher up his side, and I felt my lips open when it caused him to slide inside of me.

Azriel pressed his forehead against mine, out of breath as his throat worked, and I curled my fingers into his hair, nodding frantically as my insides tightened, and my head tipped back against the wall when Az slowly pulled out. Then he thrusted back in, and my lips fell open.

Slowly, little by little, Azriel took me apart. His lips dragging over my throat, heavy breaths hitting my skin, hot and ragged, his fingers digging into my thighs as his slow, deep rhythm shook me to my very core. With every thrust, the world seemed to tip a little more, until there was nothing anymore, nothing but him, body rocking mine into the wall, his cock hitting deeper with every thrust. His arm gripped me tighter, then his hand tugged down one strap of my soft bra and his palm closed over my breast, causing a whimper to break from my lips that turned into a moan when Azriel's lips latched onto my nipple, a groan rumbling deep in his throat when he bit and sucked on my skin, rough palm squeezing and tugging at my breast until my insides tightened around him, squeezing as I shuddered and dug my fingers into his hair, dragging him back up, and Azriel moaned hoarsely into my mouth as our lips crashed together. His hips snapped forward, and my hand flew out to grip the mantlepiece as my own rolled down to meet his next thrust.

Azriel's shoulders trembled as his fingers almost slipped off my thighs, and a sound left him that caused my chest to rise when his cock hit a spot so deep inside of me, I lost my breath. Lost my grip, felt my stomach pulse, and Az groaned against my lips when I dug my fingers into his neck and started meeting his hard, slowly quickening thrusts.

My lips fell open, my eyes fluttering as little by little, that familiar tightness began to form in my lower stomach. Only it felt even brighter, hotter and more pulsing than before, with Azriel buried deep inside me, hitting that spot that made my body writhe with every hard snap of his hips. And I knew he could feel it too, the way my insides wound tighter with every thrust, fluttering and pulling him in, his grip bruising as he breathed harshly against my neck, deep, hoarse sounds leaving him somewhere halfway between moans and whimpers, and maybe those sounds alone would have done me in. But then his nose dragged up my cheek, and Azriel pressed his forehead against mine as my fingers scratched over his scalp, his ragged breath hitting my lips as his lids fluttered over his eyes that looked like melted amber.

His hand slipped between us, and my breath caught. Simply stopped when Azriel's rough thumb brushed over my clit, slow and hard, and the world fell apart. Became exploding galaxies and stardust as waves of pleasure crashed over me so intensely, I felt my body tremble and shake beyond measure, my eyes rolling back as my sight went blurry, and Azriel's thrusts faltered. His hips snapped once, twice before pushing in deep, then his head fell forward and lips opened soundlessly as his body shuddered.

no. 9: friends don't fall in love with each other.

When I woke up, Azriel was gone.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I quickly sat up, my gaze moving over my clothes haphazardly strewn over the floor, the crinkled sheets and the window behind which, the sky was still a deep black, with galaxies twinkling in the far, far distance.

I couldn't have been asleep for long.

A little bit of pressure built in my throat, a gentle ache forming in my chest, and I quickly slipped off the mattress, picking up my sweater and tugging it over my head as I padded towards the door.

The townhouse was submerged in peaceful silence, the moon shining through the windows onto the stairs the only source of light as I soundlessly moved down the steps.

On the third floor, there was faint light shimmering out from under the door to the library, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Swallowing softly, I carefully opened the door and slipped through. Gently closing it behind me, I started to quietly move past the shelves until I caught movement over at the window, and my heart did a flip against my ribs when I came to a slow halt.

Azriel was with his back to me, slowly wandering from side to side, his bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floors, his shoulders tense, wings shifting and muscles working under his skin as he ran a hands through his hair. Shadows were pooling around his feet, completely quiet for once, just gently brushing against his ankles when he leaned forward, pressing his palms onto the window sill and dropping his head.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I pulled up my shoulders, whispering softly and a bit hesitantly: "Az?"

Azriel stilled for a moment. Then he looked over his shoulder, and his eyes found mine, amber in the warmth of the fae lights.

I tried to fight against the soft skip in my chest and stared at him.

Azriel blinked before straightening slowly, his deep voice sending rushs of soft tingles down my spine when he mumbled: "Are you okay?"

I nodded, feeling one corner of my lips rise carefully as I fiddled with my sleeve and my eyes flickered back and forth between his.

"You?"

Azriel's gaze wandered over my face as he slowly turned to look at me, eyes moving over mine, almost like he was looking for something. Then he nodded lightly.

Feeling the curve of my lips deepen, I shifted a little on the spot, mumbling softly: "You don't look like it."

Azriel blinked again, and his throat worked a little, something shifting in his jaw. The tightness in my chest grew a little as I stared at him, feeling my throat close up.

I knew that look, knew how it meant he was in his head.

"Th-this doesn't have to change anything." I quickly shook my head, taking a step forward as I stared at him. "We can just forget about it, if you -" My eyes darted over his face, something tightened sharply in my chest, and I blurted hastily: "I'll get over it; I can push it away, I mean I think I have for centuries, I can pretend, and it'll go away, and we'll just -"

I broke off, my eyes darted up, and my heart did one mighty flip.

Because I had just realised what in my hurry to make Azriel's doubt go away had slipped from my lips.

And because Azriel had straightened. His lips parted as his eyes rushed over my face, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.

Shit.

"What?" Azriel's voice was hoarse as he stared at me, and I nearly winced.

"I don't know;", my voice rose to a panicked, high tone as I widened my eyes and quickly raised my shoulders, "you looked so in your head, and I know we messed up, but I can't lose you, and if you think this was a mistake or you don't like me like that, I -"

The shadowsinger stared at me, and suddenly, his eyes brightened. Started to shine like amber held into the sun, and his shoulders sank like a tension of centuries had flooded from his body. His lips parted a little more as he stared at me, and suddenly, the shadow of a crease formed in his cheek.

"Push what away?"

Something started rising in my chest, fluttering wildly as Azriel's eyes pierced mine and the golden spots in his iris started to dance.

Azriel stared at me. Then he began to slowly walk towards me, iris bright and twinkling. My heart tipped and tilted, and I swallowed, my gaze darting around the room.

Rough fingers gently closed around my chin, and my breath got caught in my throat, simply stopping when Azriel mumbled: "No, no, come on, sweetheart." His thumb and forefinger gently forced me to look up, up until I met his bright eyes flickering over my face, his deep voice tickling my spine and something shifting through his gaze, careful, anxious, when he said softly: "Push what away?"

I felt my lips open, my heart pounding harshly against my ribs, and my brows arched on their own accord.

"Oh, come on; really?" My voice rose desperately, and in any other situation, it would have been hilarious.

"What do you want to hear; that kissing you made the fucking world stop? That you probably ruined me for every godsdamned male out there, because there's no way anyone could ever make me feel that way again? That I was too stupid to realise I've fallen for my best friend like a complete idiot, even though you make my heart beat out of my chest everytime you just look at me? That you're everything? Tha-"

Azriel leaned down, and the world tipped off its axis when he kissed me, his hand slipping to the nape of my neck to tug me closer, fingers tangling in my hair. Then he started to smile against my lips, slow and wide, and my breath caught when he dipped forward and kissed me deeper.

Digging my fingers into his sides, I tried to keep my heart from fluttering out of my chest as something rose so violently under my ribs, a soft sound broke from my throat when Azriel's tongue slid against mine, and a slightly shaking exhale left him.

Gently brushing his thumbs over the side of my neck, Azriel slowly pulled away, his nose nudging against mine when he mumbled roughly against my lips: "If it makes you feel any better, you definitely ruined me for everyone I'll ever meet."

A trembling breath left me, and I pulled my head back to stare up at Azriel, that flutter in my chest growing when I saw the light in his eyes when he stared back down at me.

"You -" My voice gave out, and one corner of Azriel's lips quirked a little.

"I?" His voice was a little hoarse as his eyes tracked over mine, and he swallowed softly. "Am in love with you."

My breath caught in my throat.

Azriel's eyes moved over my face, and I could feel a gentle exhale leaving him as his hands pulled me closer until I gently bumped into his chest and he dropped his head, staring at me, looking like he was trying not to swallow as he mumbled lowly: "I've loved you for as long as I can remember. And I'll probably still love you when we're nothing but dust under the sky. The only reason I didn't tell you sooner was that I was scared to lose you if you didn't feel the same."

I breathed out and closed my eyes as my heart rose in a wild flutter and a warm thrum built in my chest as my lips started to curve into a ridiculously wide, desperate smile. "We're so stupid."

I felt Azriel's soft huff more than I heard it. Then his breath brushed over my face, and the next second, his hands slipped under the underside of my thighs and lifted me up.

My legs locked around his waist like instinct, my breath hitching as I held onto his shoulders, and my heart skipped when my nose almost bumped into Azriel's, his eyes bright as he stared at me.

"Remember when you asked me how you're supposed to know what you're looking for and I said you just know?" His low, deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed and somehow managed a nod.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, then he dropped his head, and my breath caught in my throat, my eyes fluttering close when he leaned his forehead against mine.

"I was thinking of you." Azriel's quiet voice vibrated over my skin. "Because you became all I ever wanted, all I could see when I realised you were what I had been looking for my whole life."

My fingers curled into his hair, and a soft sound left Azriel's lips the same moment my heart rose into my throat.

"Sappy,", I whispered, my voice breaking a little, and Azriel chuckled against my lips before he pulled back, and something tipped over in my chest at the way he stared at me.

I blinked before looking down at his arms holding me up, chest pressing into mine, and something rose under my ribs.

"Now what?"

Azriel's lips curved, and my heart stumbled and skipped at the way his golden eyes twinkled when he raised a brow.

"Now I'll take you back upstairs and we'll do some more things that will ruin just thinking about anybody else."

no. 10 - the golden rule: friends make their own rules.

(and occasionally realize they aren't friends at all and they're idiots.)

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @ailyr92

#azriel #az #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel imagine #azriel/reader #az x reader #az imagine #az/reader #acotar x reader #acowar #acotar #acomaf #lalacliffthorne

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azsazz · 5 months

Text

Midnight Muse

You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn’t know when you signed the lease is that you’d be living next to three rowdy boys. One in particular, loves to get on your nerves.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty-One

Part Twenty-Two

Part Twenty-Three

Part Twenty-Four

Part Twenty-Five

Epilogue

Midnight Muse Playlist

Thank you to @writingsbychlo for the beautiful mood board 💙💙 ilysmmm

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel au #midnight muse #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel/reader #art school au #art school az

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daycourtofficial · 6 months

Text

Love Potion No. 9

Summary: Azriel returns from a mission and can’t seem to keep his hands off of you.

Author’s note: happy halloween! I thought a fun love potion theme would be so cute and fun!

(Part 2)

Can you come into Azriel’s room?

Rhysand’s request permeates your thoughts. You rise from your spot on the couch, placing a marker in the book you’re halfway through. You pad down the hallway, passing Mor, who gives you a soft smile.

You reach Azriel’s door, knocking softly before letting yourself in. You walk over to Azriel, who’s sitting on his bed with Cassian and Rhys standing facing him.

Rhys made these visits mandatory after Azriel went on three back to back missions and no one realized he hadn’t slept for 6 days until he winnowed in the dining room instead of his room, crashing on the table. Since that happened, Rhys has been making you, their healer, check on everyone post mission.

“Hi Az,” you say, stepping up to him.

“Sweetheart! Hi!” He says, putting his arms around you, enveloping you immediately.

You give Cassian a confused look. The two of you were exceptionally flirty and spent all of your time together, but Azriel was only this touchy when on the rare occasion he allowed himself to get drunk. He especially was never this touchy in front of his brothers.

You wrap your arms around him as he tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder. “Can I check you out, look you over?”

“Baby, you can do much more than that.”

Your cheeks heat immediately, but you don’t address it. You assess him for injuries, which you found none. As you’re assessing, he keeps his hands in a loose circle around your waist, trying to touch as much of you as he can while you’re working.

“Okay, Azriel, I didn’t find any injuries, are you in any pain?”

“I was, actually, in a lot of pain earlier.”

You stop, holding hand as you ask, “what happened?”

He looks down at his feet, thinking about whatever had caused his pain, as he says, “we were apart for several days.”

You roll your eyes, unsure of what has brought this on from him.

“Can you follow my fingers with your eyes?”

You hold up your pointer finger from each hand, holding them in front of his face, as you begin moving your left hand in the left direction. He does as you ask, following your hand, but as you start moving your fingers, you feel his hands slither down to cup your ass.

You hear Cassian try not to laugh.

“Did you ingest anything that you didn’t pack while you were gone?”

He sighs dreamily, “the only thing I want to put my mouth on is you.”

Your jaw drops, but Azriel doesn’t notice. He just starts playing with the ends of your hair, muttering about pretty your hair is when it’s loose.

“Did you have any problems winnowing?” You ask, trying desperately to keep this professional and to get through this check up. You half forgot that Cassian and Rhys are still here, if it weren’t for the occasional giggles from them.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. He rests his hands on your waist, not looking away from your face. “Just thought of home, and you showed up. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” He states, winking very over dramatically at you.

You see his canteen, and ask, “may I?”

“Everything I have is yours, sweets.”

Cassian’s snort escapes without his permission.

You grab his canteen of water, screwing off the cap and sniffing it.

“Can I see you two out in the hallway?” At the mention of leaving him, Azriel pouts, his hands tightening around your waist. He starts to speak, but you cut him off, “I promise I’ll be right back.”

That response somewhat appeases him, and after Azriel untangles himself from you, not without a ton of huffs from him, the three of you step out into the hallway. You extend Azriel’s canteen with the lid screwed off out to them. “Smell this, what do you smell?”

Cassian takes a whiff, as does Rhysand.

“It smells like the air in the clouds, like,” Rhys takes another sniff, “like the soap Feyre loves. And clean sheets.”

Cassian smells it, “it smells like strawberries and sex.”

You chuckle before starting, “this is a love potion. Someone has drugged our shadowsinger.”

“But he was fine until he saw you - wouldn’t a love potion make him fall in love with who he saw first?” Cassian gasps, “I saw him first! It should be me,” almost offended Azriel wasn’t hanging off of him like he was you.

You laugh, “no, Cass. Love potions can have a certain person in mind, but you have to be an incredibly talented potionmaster to brew such a concoction.” You blush a little before continuing, “most love potions can only exacerbate feelings that are already there. Hence why I had you two smell it - it smells differently to you two. If it was brewed for a certain person, it would smell like them.”

Rhys looks at you, a mischievous grin showing on his lips, “you didn’t tell us what you smell.”

Your blush deepened even further, “it smells like books,” you sigh, looking at your feet, “and like Azriel’s cologne, which is why I couldn’t smell it on him and asked you two to smell it.”

Cassian wolf whistles and you hit his arm, “shut up.”

“Should we be worried? How long will the potion last?” Rhys asks, changing the topic for a moment.

“They usually only last for 12 hours. Supposedly it is all encompassing. I’ve never seen anyone take it before, so I’m not sure what to expect.”

The two brothers look at each other and grin. “Oh no, poor Az. Being looked after by our beautiful healer for twelve uninterrupted hours. However will he cope?” Rhys’s signature smirk stretching his face.

“Rhysand, if you’re insinuating I’d ever take advantage of a patient under the influence of a love potion, you’d be gravely mistaken.”

“Well, I didn’t see you exactly prying his hands off your ass, now did I?”

Cassian mutters under his breath, “I’m sure Azriel can find it in his heart to forgive you if you took advantage.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re concerned they might actually get stuck. The two bats turn to leave, deciding they’ve teased you enough for now. Cassian turns around, making kissing noises at you as they disappear down the hall.

When Rhys and Cass are out of earshot, Cassian tells his high lord, “you owe me 50 gold marks.”

Rhys scoffs, “you owe me 100 gold marks for the love potion.”

Cassian rolls his eyes, “call it even?”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel/reader

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writingsbychlo · 5 months

Text

SWEET LIKE SUGAR | (05)

summary; azriel is away on a mission, and you get an unexpected visitor. when he returns, you also get an unexpected surprise.

word count; 5988

notes; fun fact!! I got confused about which part I was on because I actually forgot all about the events of this part and started writing for part six before realising!! also the way this is months late... my bad, y’all.

Slumping a little further in the plush seat, your eyes scanned across the page before you for the fourth time. Finally, you’d settled on a book, after procrastinating it all morning. Then, you’d put it off with the excuse of cooking breakfast and eating, making a cup of tea… and then another.

The house felt too big, too quiet, too light without shadows crawling in every corner.

Azriel had been gone since yesterday morning, your first overnight alone without him as he did Cauldron knew what, Cauldron knows where, out in the world. He’d left early yesterday morning while you had still been asleep, waking you with a hand shaking your shoulder gently before the sun had even risen. Dressed in those same dark leathers, strapped head-to-toe with weapons, he’d mumbled about some sudden work from Rhys, and that explanation, along with a delicate kiss on your forehead, had been all you’d gotten.

It had half felt like some kind of odd dream, until you’d woken up, and the house had been far too still without his presence.

He was due back tonight, and you were holding onto that, attempting to focus back on your book. Three hours. Only forty pages in.

You’d hardly made it two more pages, before there were footsteps on the creaky porch, your heart rate shooting through the roof, and a knock. A knock. Azriel wouldn't knock on his own front door. Matter of fact, Azriel would have likely just winnowed right to the door, not walked up the porch.

On light steps, hoping whoever was on the other side couldn't hear you, you peeked up through the hole in the door, noting Elain standing on the other side. You barely knew her, recognising her only from the first dinner you’d shared with Azriel’s family, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of her.

Clicking the door open after only a second or two of hesitation, she offered a beaming smile when your eyes met.

“Hello, Elain.”

“You remember my name!” Her smile somehow only stretched wider, and it was like the sun itself seemed to get brighter as she did. You wanted to scoff. Did it just do that, or was Lucien out there somewhere, glowing every time she smiled?

“Uh… Azriel isn’t here.”

“I know.” She waved a hand, as though that was supposed to be obvious in some way, following it up with a giggle. You wracked your brain, stumbling over every piece of information Azriel had given you on them all over the last couple of weeks. Seer. Elain was a seer. Had she seen Azriel leave and chosen this moment to approach you? “I’m here to see you.”

Apparently so. “Why?”

“I was thinking we could go for a walk in the public gardens together.”

“Why?” The word spilt out again, and she laughed, cocking her head to the side. “I’m, sorry, I don’t— I don’t mean to sound so rude. This situation is just unexpected, that’s all.”

“I know. I would have come sooner, but I was waiting for Azriel to be gone because he’s been playing defence about who gets to see you and when. He growled at Rhysand last week for asking how things were going.” Your stomach flipped at that, flopping in on itself and you rubbed a hand over your ribs slowly, hoping to steady the beating of your heart. “I’m not here for Rhysand, just to be clear. I’m not here for anyone, not even Az. I’m here for me, because I’d like to get to know you.”

��You want to get to know me?”

“Of course. You’re going to be around for a while—”

“I am?” She merely hummed, brows raising a little as humour shone in those doe-eyes, and your cheeks heated. “Seer, right. Of course. Do you want to come in for lunch or something, then?”

“I was thinking we could go for a picnic.” Nudging one delicately slippered foot out from under the hem of her dress, she nudged a picnic basket at her feet with her toes, and you shifted nervously from foot to foot. “It’s a nice day, and the Velaris Gardens are just beautiful. I volunteer sometimes, and I must say, the flowers this year are breathtaking.”

“Alright,” She was like a puppy, someone you just couldn't say no to when she stared at you with those big brown eyes, only seeming to light up more when you finally agreed. Leaving her standing on the porch for no more than a few minutes, you marked the page in your book, swapped out your loungewear for a summer dress and some sandals, and grabbed your keys.

She had been right, the two of you were barely more than a few steps down the sidewalks before the golden rays of the sun truly began to soak into your skin, warming you. It was a lovely day. Hopefully, the sun was shining on Azriel too, wherever he was.

The streets of Velaris were crowded as the pair of you ventured closer to the busier parts of the city, your workplace was packed full, the tables outside almost overflowing, and one of the waitresses you’d come to know waved as you passed by, flustered and carrying a tray of drinks.

Children were playing in the streets, darting from one side to another. Adults were wandering, lovers arm in arms, and friends gossiping. Here you were, wandering alongside Elain, who was humming a tune gently to herself under her breath. Only once you had entered the gardens, the kind old man at the front gate greeting Elain with a smile and a hug, did she speak up once again.

Her tune came to an end as the two of you were walking down the main pathway, weeping willows curtaining on either side, birds chirping overhead and fluttering between branches in the trees.

“I'm happy Azriel has you, you know.”

“You might be the only one.” Your words were bitter, harsh, and you wanted to bite them back in, still not entirely sure where you stood with Elain or to what extent you could trust her, but she only laughed again. “Apologies, that was…”

“Don’t worry.” That casual hand wave again, the metal bracelets on her wrist clinking as she did. One held a sun, another with a moon, a third gold band with an orange gem, and a fourth with a metal tag on a leather band, an engraving too small to make out. “Although, it’s not true. Nesta talks very fondly of you, and while Feyre might not speak up as often, she does not approve of the way Rhysand treats you.”

“Nesta is great. I shouldn’t have said that. And of course, I was out of turn to imply anything at all about the High Lord and Lady. I do—”

“Please, none of those formalities.” She stopped suddenly at the end of the pathway, aiming to turn neither left nor right, but instead stepping out onto the large field before you both, wildflowers cropping up, wandering across the soft ground and leaving you to trail through the grass behind her. “Rhysand can be a stubborn arse when he chooses to be, and Cassian is merely being bull-headed. Mor could be a swaying hand if she chose to, but she’s actively staying out of it, to let things play out on their own. Amren is… well, Amren.”

She had managed to coax a laugh from you, despite your wary mood, and she seemed to stand a little taller at the triumph. Finally finding a spot she liked and placing the basket down, Elain opened it up to pull out a blanket, flapping it out into the light breeze and laying it on the ground slowly. She sat on it, patting the space beside her for you to sit on, and opening the basket only when you had.

“I brought several sandwiches, because I wasn’t sure which you’d enjoy.” She began to unstack each labelled and wrapped meal portion, laying them out around you both until the blanket was covered in food and treats, a wine glass in your hand as Elain filled it with bubbling grape juice. “I try not to drink as much these days.”

It seemed the two of you had moved on from whatever conversation you’d been having, and no matter how much you wanted to circle back around to it, it felt rude to do so when she was clearly leading the chat. She was rubbing a hand over her stomach with contemplation, and you swirled the bubbly drink in your glass. “Are you… are you trying for a baby?”

Her hair glinted in the sun as she tipped her head back, eyes closed and smiling at the sky. “We’re thinking about it. Nothing concrete yet, but, I know Lucien desires children. I do too. We aren’t putting any kind of timeframes on anything, but we’re getting into some good habits and lifestyle changes now.”

“I wish you both the best of luck,”

She only hummed, again, a contemplative sound that seemed so wrapped up in mysterious and knowledge that it made your skin itch. To distract yourself, you took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning over the food options before you as she sighed and pulled herself back from whatever thoughts she had lost herself in. “My happiness with my mate now is so much due to Azriel.”

It was like a ball, bouncing back and forth between the walls, getting faster and faster as she whipped from the topic of Azriel to anything else, like she couldn't decide between acknowledging the elephant in the room or ignoring it.

“I’m happy he has you.”

“So you’ve said.” You smirk, settling on a sandwich at last and unwrapping it.

“There was a while when I thought I might be his happy ending, and he might be mine.” Your chewing slowed, and your focus fixed on her. You weren’t sure why she was saying these things, revealing things about his past or her own, whether it was some kind of game or not. She seemed to read all of this on your face, sitting up more fully to face you, legs crossing before her. “He never fought for me the same way he fights for you, though. Like he can’t help himself. What we had was hidden away and sneaking around in the dark. It was wrong for us both, I see that in hindsight, but with you, he doesn’t hide you. It’s like he wants the whole world to know you’re at his side.”

The food was like trying to swallow a mouthful of cottonwool, choking it down dry and wincing. “I don’t think what we have is the same. What you had must’ve been… well, like a real relationship. You do understand what me and Az have is more like an agreement, right?”

“Are all relationships not just agreements to be together, monogamously?”

You sipped at your drink, buying time to find a reply as she tucked into her own food, surely knowing she’d won this round. “Relationships are different.”

“In what way?”

“In every way!” You said, and she still only managed to look mildly amused, waiting for you to go on. “Relationships shouldn’t start the way ours did, for the intent of mutual benefit and gain. They’re supposed to be about passion and feelings and connection.”

“And do you not have passion, or feelings, for Azriel? Is there no connection?”

“What we have is complicated.” You didn’t know how to define it at all, everything that was shifting and changing so thoroughly was enough to make your head spin, and her mumble only confirmed that she knew she had the upper hand here. “How did Azriel help you to find Lucien if you were… together?”

“Oh, no, we were never together. We snuck around at night and shared heated looks across the dining room table. I wanted to choose my own path for once, not the one everyone was telling me I should be on. The one that led to Lucien. And Azriel, well, he just wanted someone. I wasn’t the right someone, I was just there.” That didn’t answer your question, not at all, but it seemed that if you were going to get the reply you wanted, it was in return for listening to the whole story. “We had stolen moments in dark corners, and Rhysand warned us off one another, put a stop to what likely would have ended in tragedy.”

“Seems like the High Lord is fond of telling Azriel who he can and cannot be with.”

“He had a sister once, you know.” The words struck cold, and you stiffened. Of course, you knew. Everyone in Prythian knew. Had heard of the tragedy before the first war, when the Lord of Night had lost his wife and daughter, leaving only the Prince who would soon take the throne. “She fell in love with someone who she shouldn’t have, someone who betrayed her in the end,”

“Should you be telling me this?”

“—and it broke him for so long. I had no idea about any of this until Feyre told me. He watched his sister get her heart broken before she lost her life, and watched his mate fall for Tamlin and get hurt. He watched Mor hide such an important part of herself and get hurt for centuries. He even watched Lucien pine for me while I was too blind to see him. He has watched love break and harm over the years, watched people abuse those feelings and use them for their own gain. He knows that need for touch more than anyone, and knows the price companionship can cost.”

“Elain,” The food was beginning to taste like ash, this was becoming more of a petition than a chat. “I understand that. I know he’s suffered too, I know he’s felt pain, and I’m sorry for that. But that doesn’t excuse him for his cruelty. It doesn’t excuse him for stopping Azriel from finding happiness. He cannot control everyone around him, no matter whether his intentions are good or not. Other people’s happiness is not his responsibility, and not his right. What, only mates are allowed to be together? Do you know how rare it is to find your mate? Azriel has waited five hundred years, he may never find his mate, but does that mean he should never be allowed to know happiness because Rhysand decrees it?”

She stared at you, lips pursed for a long moment, considering all that you had said. And then, instead of getting angry, or yelling, or defending them further, she smiled. She nodded her head and something passed over her face that you couldn't possibly decipher. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Azriel would have fought for me, if I had asked him to. I’m sure I could have put up a fuss about it, but when he was told to stop, he did. That rejection…”

“Led you to Lucien?”

“Gods, no. It made me so angry. Azriel just rolled over and showed his belly because Rhysand snarled. I was mad, beyond words!” Your laughter broke free, surprising you both, until you were laughing together amongst the flowers. “He would barely look at me, wouldn't talk to me at all if not for polite dinner conversation. I’d gone from someone he’d feel up in dark corners to acting like I had a disease!”

“That’s awful!”

“I know! So, I wanted out. I was so stifled. I managed to persuade Rhysand to send me to the Human Lands for a while, to track down some information. Except, of course, I couldn't go alone. I needed an escort, and who better than the Emissary to the Human Lands?”

“This was Lucien?”

“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes, slipping away into her memories, a smile forming on her face. “Gods, he drove me insane. He was there all the time when I’d just been pulled from the Cauldron, like a lost puppy. So full of adoration and love. I was expecting that, but that’s not the Lucien who showed up. The one who showed up was so… nonchalant. Like the bond between us didn’t exist, we were friends, more like mere partners on a task. I even made a drunken move on him one night in a gross tavern far from The Wall, and he turned me down! Put me to bed and left a glass of water on the nightstand for me. Acted like it never happened in the morning.”

“Oh, Gods…” Your snicker bought you a mock glare from the flowery female beside you.

“I was even angrier, then. It was like nobody wanted me! So, when I returned, I gave Azriel a piece of my mind. And he let me yell at him for twenty minutes. And then awkwardly held me while I cried for another twenty.”

“Does this story have a happy ending? Well, I guess I know it does,” You offered her stomach a pointed look, “But when do we get there?”

“Fine, fine,” She rolled her own eyes now, “To keep it short, Azriel then offered to help me with Lucien. Managed to trick Lucien into going on our first date, a blind-date set-up, and wouldn't let him leave when he tried to. He then continued to help me sneak around with Lucien behind everybody’s backs, until we were ready to come out with it.”

“When was that?”

“Two weeks before we got married.” You fell to your back, laughter like light spilling from you at that, and she continued to share the details of everyone’s reactions through giggles of her own. “I’d seen all their responses, and I wanted to avoid them as long as possible! That was the last time I ignored my visions to try and put them off. What I see will happen, it's only a matter of time. I can’t avoid it.”

“That must suck for surprise parties and gifts.”

“Maybe, but it was pretty good to see you coming.” She smiled, laying herself down beside you and staring up at the sky overhead. “We will be good friends, you and I. I’ve seen that too.”

You were preparing dinner when you finally heard Azriel arrive. The scuff of his boots on the porch, the rustle of his wings as he entered the house, and then—

Then the slam of the front door. So loud and violent that the house shook a little, trembling the trinkets in the hall that sat on the side unit. You tensed, hearing his loud huff of frustration. Shadows whipped and whirled through the house, a few even making it as far as you were in the kitchen, and you followed them, peeping around the threshold before they were all snapped back in a hurry to their owner.

You saw his retreating back, stomping up the stairs of the house, tense lines and rigid muscles, disappearing in a dark cloud from sight. Another slam made you jump, one of the upstairs doors closing with a bang.

Silence filled the house once again, far heavier and more tense than it previously had been, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth.

It didn't feel like you were welcome, like perhaps this was a moment you shouldn't intrude on. But, was this not part of the reason that Azriel had brought you here in the first place? To comfort him, and be his support?

Minutes ticked by as you contemplated the matter, before deciding that at least checking in on him couldn't hurt. If he wanted alone time, he’d say that, and you’d happily give it to him. The idea of leaving him alone in his suffering created a phantom pain in your chest, spurring you up the stairs and on a search for him.

He wasn’t hard to find, darkness flicking around the doorway of the office, idle shadows striking like dark lightning bolts in the air as you opened the door, only to find Azriel hunched over his desk, wings tense behind his body.

“Hi, Az. It’s good to have you home.”

He only murmured, a vague noise, not even lifting his head from his work as you stood in the doorway. You paced a little further inside, standing by his desk, hoping to catch a glance of those pretty caramel eyes, but he kept his head down. His pen never stopped moving across the paper, his shadows never stopped their stormy swirling.

“I’m going to start making dinner soon, if you want to come down?” He didn’t reply, just a grunt, and you gave up, despite the worry filling you from head to toe. “Alright, well, you know where to find me.”

With that, you left, a pulse of power following you from the room within as soon as you clicked the door shut, back pressed to the wood on the other side. With a couple of deep breaths, you steadied yourself. It was only a matter of time before something came up, everything had been going too smoothly, too perfectly to last. Azriel was bound to snap under all that pressure at some point, and if this was that snap, you could handle it.

Setting a chicken off to roast only took a couple of minutes, basted and seasoned and into the oven, enough of a distraction to pull your thoughts away from the warrior upstairs. It was as you were chopping vegetables that your mind wandered back, the mind-numbing task of slicing peppers and carrots made it easy for your thoughts to trail back to Azriel.

Still, he had not emerged. Not for food, or water, or even some space from that office.

Setting the table didn’t help to distract you either, laying down plates and cutlery and glasses, choosing a bottle of wine and setting it out to air, even going so far as to set down some candles, searching for matches to light them. The house was all but vibrating with power not, steady thumps that occasionally jostled the cutlery on the table with powerful bursts.

Whatever had happened today had Azriel so riled up that his power was all but leaking out, siphons doing little to control the feelings welling inside him now. You’d never known the true strength of his power. Of course, you’d heard of the High Lord’s brothers, the spymaster and the warlord, the three champions of a lethal death-match among young soldiers, who’d come out bonded stronger than ever, with power to match.

Never, though, did you expect to feel the power like this. Feel his emotions ricocheting off of every wall, bouncing through the foundations of the house. Suddenly, it dawned on you just how mighty the ranks of the Night Court truly were, a chill settling into your bones at the thought.

One bad mod, one temper tantrum, and the building could simply crumble to dust. Street lamps would flicker, and animals would scatter. Too many thoughts, too much and all of it became overwhelming as the house continued to tremble to the steady pattern of a heartbeat.

Blowing out the candles as the flames flickered precariously once again, you put them away, not daring to risk them tipping over and creating a far worse problem. You knew the scars on Azriel’s hands, he’d told you the story behind them on one of the many nights the two of you had lay in bed, wrapped in one another’s arms, seeking comfort.

Or perhaps, it had been during stolen moments in the café, when Azriel would come to visit you, sitting and doing his work at one of the tables in the back. He’d take a break only when you’d bring him a fresh pot of tea and a pastry, sit across his lap and talk in hushed whispers during the quieter parts of your shifts before you had to get back to work.

It could even have been one of your late-night walks, or early-morning strolls, while the streets of Velaris were quiet and mist-kissed. Your hands clasped together tightly, his wing shielding around you as you walked together, talking of everything and anything that came to mind.

He’d told you quiet stories of his past, of his present, of his hopes for the future. All about little baby Nyx, Nesta and her journey to finding the Valkyries, what it had been like growing up in the camps, or all the best little villages and towns he’d visited on his worldly travels.

Your heart had been doing crazy things, lately. Crazy, stupid things, like skipping a beat and speeding up and bursting with adoration for a man so new to your life. It did crazy things, like encourage you back up the stairs an hour later, to ignore the tremble in your hands or the wobble in your step, heart calling out to him.

You’d tried to ignore the urge. To sit and read your book, until you’d read the same line over and over while not absorbing a single word, and giving up with a frustrated huff. You re-basted the chicken, and added the vegetables to cook, and even set off some potatoes to boil but all the while, as your body worked, your mind and heart lay with him.

This time, you knocked as you entered, knuckles a soft rap on the door before you pushed it open. Magic thrummed through the air, calling you closer and pushing you away, and you found Azriel, still in the same uncomfortable position, working at his desk. His shoulders were locked and rigid, his head hung, hair messy from constant tangling, and you lifted a hand, brushing it slowly through his hair.

“Azriel…”

He barely even acknowledged you, nothing more than a grunt tossed in your direction as you stood by his side, and a sigh broke free from you. His lips were turned down in a frown, dragging all of his pretty features into misery too, and you hated to see this side of him. Hooking your fingers under his chin, his writing came to a stop as you forced his head to turn, to look up at you. His eyes were dull, a spark of irritation and anger bursting through them as recognition and consciousness flashed back into his lifeless form.

“Azriel.”

This time, a growl tore free, that frown becoming a snarl as he pulled back, gaze narrowing a little. “I’m fucking working. What do you want?”

You froze, staring at him, taking in the exhaustion under his eyes, the pain in his stance, the spinning thoughts you could practically see surrounding him, so much so it must be dizzying and painful. Dropping your hand back to your side, he only returned to work, not sparing you another thought as he chased to catch up with the ones already running him ragged in his head.

Silently walking away, you left his door open, hurrying away from the scene and back to the kitchen. Taking the kettle in trembling hands and filling it up, you set that to boil too, a mug from the cupboard clacking as you set it down on the counter, throwing open the doors to the tea cupboard soon after.

Your nervous fingers skimmed across the labels, searching the front of each one, and it was as you were holding two, undecided on which to choose— perhaps just brew them together?— that the air in the room shifted, and a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, tugging you back into a solid chest.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, face tucking into the crook of your neck, where he left a kiss to your skin. His hold tightened, squeezing you against his body as he slumped down into you. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Az.” You ran a hand along his forearm, banded around your body, feeling it loosen just a fraction as you squeezed. “I’m just so worried about you, I wanted to make you some tea to help, but I couldn't decide which one.”

At that, a whine slipped free from him, nuzzling deeper into your neck, another kiss, and another. Putting down the teas on the counter, you wiggled a little, managing to get him to loosen up just enough to turn in his arms. His forehead came to rest on your own, noses brushing, a sad frown on his lips as his eyes remained closed.

“Az…”

“No more work. If I’m stressed to the point of snapping at you, then it’s too much. I’m sorry. You were just trying to help, and clearly, I needed the help.”

Looping your arms around his neck, he sighed, a happier sound as you scratched at the nape of his neck soothingly. “Stop apologising, Azriel. I appreciate it, but it’s unnecessary. I’m not angry at you, just concerned.”

“I like that you worry about me.” He whispered, deep voice running like honey as he bent enough to pick you up behind the backs of your legs, spinning you to place you onto the kitchen counter, and step comfortably between your thighs. “But you don’t deserve that kind of treatment. You deserve better. I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to let you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Az. I wouldn't be in this relationship if I was going to run. I can handle you, even when you’re not at your best.”

He only answered with a shaky laugh, hands smoothing up your thighs to sit on your hips, squeezing in a series of happy pulses. “We’re in a relationship?”

Elation was clear on his face, no denying it, at your choice of words, and you gave a little chuckle of your own, nodding against him as your noses came back to brushing together, heads resting on one another. Your conversation with Elain flickered through your mind once again, and you wondered if she had seen this, seen you give into her whims and silently admit she was right. If she’d seen this, you hope she picked up on your mental scowl, too. “Well, what would you call what we have?”

“I like ‘relationship’. I like it a lot, actually.”

Throwing your arms over his shoulders, they looped around his neck, and you pushed your face up a little closer to him. “We may not be conventional, Az, but I like what we have. I like our relationship. I think we’re perfect as we are.”

He didn’t need words to respond, not this time, not as his mouth sealed over your own in a gentle, tender kiss. The first kiss you’d ever shared, a timid one, his lips working slowly and cautiously over yours, giving you plenty of time to pull away.

You didn’t want to, kissing him back with just as much tenderness and affection as he was showing you, pouring every feeling you had into it, to make sure he knew just how much you cared. Your heart was beating hard, fast, racing like a drum under your ribcage as you melted into his touch. One scarred hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing across your skin, in tandem with every stroke of his lips.

You pulled back for breath, just to find yourself tangled back up in him, his tongue stroking across your lower lip, teasing the roof of your mouth as you opened up for him. A groan skittered across your tongue from him, a pant for breath, his hand slipping up under your shirt to sit on your bare waist as you tugged on the slight curls of his hair.

When he pulled back, at last, your lips were swollen, your lungs burning in the best way possible, and your head was spinning so much you could barely focus. The world felt fuzzy at your touch, glowing and glittering as you stole a final kiss from his lips, his soft chuckle breaking it.

“Am I still invited for dinner with you?”

“Yes. I’m making chicken and potatoes.” Your smile lasted only a second, before you were sitting upright. Time had melted away around you, disappearing into dusk outside beyond the windows, “Oh, no, the potatoes!”

Pushing him back and hopping down from the counter, he watched with a dazed, kiss-drunk expression as you rushed to the stove, taking off the pan lid and prodding at the potatoes with a fork.

“I amend my earlier statement. We’re having chicken and mashed potatoes, because these have gone soft. Entirely your fault for distracting me.”

“I distracted you?” He mused, sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, tugging you back to kiss at your cheeks, trailing down toward your mouth.

“You know you did.” His only response was a smile. Draining the potatoes was a challenge, what with Azriel plastered to your back like a new limb that served no purpose, and you had to elbow him off in order to finish the food.

While he waited, he tinkered with the dining room table, pouring two glasses of wine and rearranging. When you turned, he’d dug out the candles you’d put away, lighting them with a match once again, and blushing as he laid them out. “I thought they’d be romantic.”

“I like them.” Your cheeks were equally as heated, smiling to yourself as you turned away to check the food.

His distance didn’t last long, as you searched for a knife with which to carve the chicken, he was once again backing you into a counter, his mouth hungrily descending upon your own. Mutters of ‘waiting long enough’ silenced on your mouth as he dove into you, hands on your body once again, trying to tempt you up onto the counter.

“Let me cook, you menace,”

“Just a few more,” Was his barter, and those few kisses passed more and more time, his lips like a high you had to chase, until only the desperate urge to breathe could pull you apart. “Gods, I love that. I love kissing you.”

“I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes, but his smirk stayed, unashamed of his newfound addiction.

“We need to eat, you need food.”

“I have everything I need, right here.” He leaned in again, lips puckered, and you tipped your head his mouth finding the edge of your jaw, and he grunted unhappily at the action, but mouthed at your skin nonetheless.

“How about after dinner, we can go upstairs and do some self-care. I’ll show you all the fancy new creams and skincare I got. We can relax, and cuddle, and read.”

“And there will be more kisses?”

“There will most definitely be more kisses.” You promised, cupping his face and bringing him back for a final peck.

“Then I think I can agree to those terms.” He stared, pulling back just enough to fully take you in. As the urgency in his expression died down with the promise that this affection was not a one-time deal, his face took on blissfulness instead. Running his knuckles across your cheek, his face softened even further as you leaned into his touch, cupping his hand and pressing kisses to his scarred fingers. “You… You are my moon, do you know that? You light up even the darkest parts of life for me.”

His words were like whispered oaths, something too heavy for you to fully comprehend but burned into your mind regardless, and you gave him a sweet smile back. “You are my stars, Azriel.”

“Really?”

“Every last one. Glittering and perfect in the night, full of mystery and hopes and stories. You are my favourite part of the night sky.”

Your heads rested together, dinner temporarily forgotten just for another moment or so, to bask in the revelations of the evening.

Today,

today changed everything for the better.

#SLS #sweet like sugar #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #acotar x you #acotar/you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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cosmic-whispers · 10 months

Text

Find Out - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel overhears a conversation you have with your friends where you admit your feelings for him. When he decides to confront you, he finds you in a rather compromising position.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: kind of a creepy, pervy Az (lol, he watches reader touch herself), secondhand embarrassment, SMUT (oral-both, shadow play hehe)

A/N: ngl, writing has been tough lately. I feel like I’m just trying to push words out and it’s taking forever to get anything out. Anyways, this is cute, I guess, but still not sure how I feel about it. This was inspired by a request i got. I hope you enjoy 6.7k works of Azriel just buffering and being a mess and a little bit of a creep (but we can’t stop loving him). Also, this is nasty. Enjoy!

The light, crisp breeze of the summer evening caressed your cheeks and gently blew your hair back as you made your way down the streets of Velaris. The setting sun set the world alight in golden hues and you cherished the last rays of sun as you made your way home to the Townhouse.

Nesta, Emorie, and Gwyn had invited you to your first official girls night with them and the excitement had been building since earlier that morning. Having known the Inner Circle for less than two months, you were filled with appreciation at your new friends’ kindness to include you. You had finished their book recommendation and came prepared with an extensive list of notes about the characters, the romance, and the spice. You were promised a fun night full of delicious wine and riveting conversations.

You approached the house, the excitement adding a spring to your step. You were ready to relax and have fun, it had been entirely too long and you had been working entirely too hard. The rustle of flapping wings caught your attention and you turned, watching as Azriel descended from the sky, clad in his leathers and shadows swimming around him. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he landed in front of you, wings spread magnificently behind him and his siphons bathing him in a gentle blue light.

You smiled at him as he approached you and he offered you a tired grin in return.

“Hello, Azriel,” you said, looking up at him as he stood before you. “Welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back,” he said. His deep voice and the way his eyes remained on yours made heat rise to your face and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from admitting just how much you missed him. He had been away for the last two weeks on a mission from Rhysand, and it was too long of a time to go without his kindness and soft smiles.

He leaned down towards you and pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your waist and giddy excitement spread through you. Your own hands wrapped around his shoulders and he heaved a sigh, burrowing his face into the side of your neck. You knew he could hear the rapid pounding of your heart and were grateful that he didn’t mention it.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into your neck. His warm breath spread across your skin and you shuddered in his arms, engulfed entirely in him and the scent of cedar and mist. You wished you could stay in his arms forever.

“I missed you, too,” you admitted. He let go of you, straightening his spine, and took a step away from you. Tendrils of shadows brushed against your bare arms, making you giggle until their master reeled them back in. He began walking with you the rest of the way to the Townhouse.

“I hope these past two weeks without me have not been too hard on you,” he teased, gently bumping your shoulder.

“It’s been dreadful. Rhysand and Nesta won’t leave me alone without my favorite shadowsinger there to protect me.”

“I believe I’m the only shadowsinger you know.” He smiled playfully at you, his eyes shining with amusement. You smiled back at him, taking the opportunity to admire just how breathtaking Azriel was when he was relaxed and smiling.

“You're in a good mood,” you commented. “I take it your mission went well?”

“Yes, surprisingly,” he commented, although he did not elaborate further.

You decided to press your luck. Curiosity ruled you, and you wondered why Rhysand had you research cult organizations within the continent. You pondered whether that was something that Azriel was sent to handle. “Why did Rhys send you all the way to Montesere?”

“Careful, I might begin suspecting you're a spy sent to infiltrate Velaris,” he teased, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. If you hadn’t known him as well as you did, the slight flicker of amusement in the corner of his lips may have gone completely unnoticed.

“Oh, no, you’ve discovered my evil plot. Is the big, bad Spymaster going to take me to his dungeon?”

You teased him, but the sudden image of you chained in his torture chamber, fully nude, and being punished in rather enjoyable ways flashed through your mind and you nearly gasped out loud.

He leaned down close to your ear and murmured, “keep teasing me, and I just might need to.” His deep, gravelly voice echoed pleasantly in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and adding fuel to the images filtering through your mind. You struggled to formulate a coherent response and gratefulness filled you as you made it to the Townhouse.

He smirked as he opened the door for you, allowing you to enter the home before following after you. You took two steps before being intercepted by your friend. Nesta was smirking at you as she noticed the Illyrian behind you. Although you had never admitted your feelings to her, Nesta had quickly guessed your infatuation with the bat boy trailing behind you. She had tried encouraging you to pursue him but you had always turned her ideas down knowing that he did not feel the same for you.

“Welcome back, Azriel,” she said and he nodded at her in thanks.

“(Y/N),” she said, shifting her attention back to you, “I was going to ask what took you so long, but I think I’ve got a pretty good idea now.” Her gaze shifted back to Azriel and you glared at her.

“I lost track of time in the city library,” you said, defending yourself against her.

“Right.”

Azriel still lingered behind you and Nesta shifted her attention back to him. “She’s mine tonight, Spymaster. Find someone else to spend your time with. It’s her first girl’s night and I won’t let anyone interrupt. We’re going to get her to spill all her dirty secrets!”

“Nesta!” you exclaimed, laughing at your friend’s enthusiasm.

“Good luck, (Y/N),” Azriel said and you glanced back up at him. He winked at you and you felt heat rise to your cheeks and ears.

“Thanks, I have a strong suspicion that I’ll need it.”

“You’re both being very dramatic. All she needs is some good alcohol in her system,” Nesta said, taking your arm and pulling you away from the Shadowsinger and into the living room. You glanced back at him one last time, catching his honey gaze. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he smiled at you and you gave him a quick wave, quickly turning your attention to Emorie and Gwyn, who waited for you with excited smiles on their faces.

—--------*-----------

Sleep would not claim Azriel. The time neared midnight and despite the gathering downstairs, the house was quiet. He had bathed, washing the grime off and felt infinitely better. Yet, when he laid down, he found himself wide awake, rushing thoughts infiltrating his mind. Thoughts of you infiltrated his mind full speed. He could not stop thinking about you, and the ache that he felt in his heart every time he saw you. He tried to drown the image of you smiling by concentrating on thoughts of his successful mission and all the useful information he had gathered, but his concentration would wane entirely too quickly back to you.

He decided on a midnight snack, hoping something sweet and perhaps a boring book would lull him to sleep. He descended the stairs silently, pajama pants hanging lowly on his hips and his bare chest exposed.

He made his way toward the kitchen, steps as silent as the night, until your sweet laugh stopped him short.

“Pour her more wine!” he heard Emorie exclaim and the sound of liquid pouring into glass followed.

“Come on, (Y/N),” Nesta teased. “I already know you have a crush on him. You just have to admit it to all of us.”

His heart stopped in his chest, shock washing over him like ice water. You had feelings for someone? A ripple of anger surged through him as he imagined this unknown, faceless male that had stolen his mate away from him.

He had felt nothing but utter bliss the moment that the bond had snapped for him. You had been working with Rhysand and Amren researching ancient scrolls for a week and he had just returned from a brief stint in the Spring Court. He remembered that summer afternoon, walking into the library in the House of Wind, an unfamiliar scent mixing with the air. He had found you pouring over a massive tome, hair a bit frazzled and an exasperated look on your face. You had looked at him then–the rays of sunshine coming in from the windows making your face gleam. His heart had belonged to you the moment your eyes had met; his admiration for you–his soulmate–quickly turning into love as he got to know you.

And you had no idea.

He had wanted to tell you, but doubts had quickly clouded his judgement. Initially, he convinced himself that you might not be ready for the level of commitment that the bond often implied. But it quickly turned into self-doubt–how could he confess and force the affliction of having him as your mate on to you? He was not worthy of you. And now he was too late. Now, he would be forced to watch you fall in love with someone else.

Your giggle broke him out of his thoughts. “If you already know, then why do I need to say it?”

“Because it’s good to confess your feelings instead of keeping them bottled up,” Gwyn said. “Please, (Y/N), you know I have no interest in a romantic relationship right now. I have to live vicariously through you!”

“Fine,” you said, an exasperated sigh escaping you. You paused for a moment, the clinking of the wine glass chiming softly in Azriel’s ear. His shadows were desperate for release, fighting against their master to go to you, but he reeled them in tightly, unwilling to give his position away.

“You cannot say anything to him. I really like him and I don’t need you three meddling and ruining our friendship.”

“Yes, yes. Now who is it?” Emorie said.

“Mother above, look at how embarrassed she looks; she is so in love!” Nesta exclaimed and you groaned, but did not deny it.

Gwyn squealed and Emorie joined her giggling as they drunkenly promised to keep your secrets.

“Who is it?” Nesta teased.

Azriel knew it was wrong to eavesdrop. He knew he should leave well enough alone and go back to his room and accept any decision you made as long as you were happy. His heart was already shattered within his chest; anything else he heard would just be salt on the wound. But his feet remained firm in their place, his shadows growing deathly silent around him as he waited for your answer. A fucking masochist is what he was.

“You already know it’s Azriel.”

He was stunned into a daze for a moment, before warmth began to spread from his chest to the tip of his fingers and he did not even register the corners of his lips rising into a smile.

“He’s just so kind and sweet and gentle. A little mysterious, but that’s the best part,” you continued, giggling. “He’s made me feel so welcome and he likes spending time with me. I feel like I can be myself around him. It doesn’t hurt that he’s so damn gorgeous. I can barely look at him!”

“I think you should tell him! I see the way he looks at you,” Emorie said. He wanted to hug her.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he feels the same way and I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” you said and he rolled his eyes at you. Silly, little thing. How could you not know that you were the single most important thing in his life? How could you not know how his heart beat for you and only you?

“Well, I think you should put your big girl pants on and tell him,” Nesta said. “Just think about all the fun you’ll get to have!”

An image of you, kneeling ass up in his bed, flashed through his mind and he had to fight the dirty thoughts in his head to be able to focus.

“Yes!” Emorie exclaimed. “You know that the size of Illyrian wings correlates with their dick size! If we’re just going off his wings, that male is packing.”

The entire group began laughing and unadulterated male pride surged within him. If only they knew how accurate they were.

“I suppose the wings could be fun,” you said and trailed off.

“But?” Gwyn asked, baiting you into answering and Azriel vowed to get her that book she had been talking about non stop.

You giggled before answering. “But I’ve always wondered what he can do with those little shadows.”

The squeals and laughter grew loud. He heard a chair being pushed back, and quickly drew back up the stairs and into his bedroom without a sound, a smile etched on his face.

This was not like him. The regularly stoic, unfeeling Spymaster of the Night Court felt giddy. He knew that the bond had not snapped for you yet. You were falling for him entirely on your own and he felt his heart swell with emotion.

He knew sleep would not come to him that night. While it would usually evade him due to nightmares or too many thoughts, he knew that night would only be filled with the thought of you. You had feelings for him. You fantasized about him. He sat on his balcony, nursing a cup of wine as he looked up at the stars and contemplated the future. He was so damn close to having you.

Your room was across from his, deliberately chosen by Rhys in an effort to get Azriel to get closer to you. He had heard you enter your chambers within the last hour and had to force his shadows to stay put, although he was finding it harder and harder to contain himself. He debated whether to go to you or not.

You had feelings for him–had admitted as much out loud. Yet, apprehension still clung to him. Having a crush on him did not mean that you would accept the bond. Accept him. Perhaps you needed more time to solidify your feelings. Or perhaps he was being a coward and should speak with you, before his opportunity fades away from him.

He stood decidedly and traversed the length of his room with large strides. He crossed the hallway and gently rapped his knuckles against your door before he could second-guess himself. There was no going back.

He took a deep breath as no sound greeted him.

He knocked on the door again, to the same answering silence.

“(Y/N)?” he called out. He slowly pushed the door open, ensuring it was quiet in case you had fallen asleep. Glancing into the room, he found it completely empty. He had not heard you leave and his shadows had not detected you either. A pang of worry worked its way down his spine, before he heard a sound from the adjoining bath room.

“Mmm.” It was your voice, low and husky and full of pleasure. He froze on the spot, blood rushing to his face and further south and he heard his heartbeat loud in his ears. He was hardly conscious of his legs, moving him closer and closer to the door until he was standing right in front of it. He stared at the dark wood, imagining what sight would greet him if he opened the door.

You moaned once more and he gasped as the husky scent of your arousal reached his nose. It was making him slightly delirious, and he rested his head against the wooden surface of the door, trying to compose himself. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but realized too late that it had been a mistake. Your heady scent invaded every crevice of his brain and it felt like he was a hormonal teenager again, nothing in his brain except you. He reeled his shadows tight to himself, despite their clear desire to go to you. They angrily buzzed around his body, begging him to release them. His hand made it to the front of his pants, rubbing the throbbing erection through the soft material of his pants.

It was wrong. It was so wrong. It was a complete invasion of your privacy, but he could not find it within himself to walk away.

“Yes, Azriel,” you sighed and it stopped the movement of his hand short, the sound of you moaning his name lighting every nerve ending of his body on fire. It’s almost like you were a siren, summoning and enticing him and he took the bait without thought or hesitation. His hand wrapped around the handle of the door and he slowly turned it, pulling it open and making his way silently past the threshold.

You were enveloped in the giant, ivory tub in the center of the room and faced away from him, not noticing him inside. He stayed where he was near the entrance and observed you. Your head rested back against the rim of the tub, eyes scrunched shut in pleasure, mouth opened as panting breaths escaped you. Your wet skin glistened in the faelight and he was entranced.

You looked ethereal–like a goddess personified into flesh right before his eyes. He glanced at the mirror that stood in front of you, nearly gasping out loud at the sight of your pert nipples peeking out from the surface of the bath water. Your hand was submerged, arm moving in a quick, controlled movement as you brought pleasure to yourself.

Gods, you were perfection. Everything about you enthralled him, excited him, and he wanted to own every part of you and for you to own every part of him. He yearned desperately for you.

Your panting grew rapid, the moans escaping you more frequently now and he knew you were on the verge of your orgasm. His eyes remained glued to the reflection of your face, taking in every detail, every movement, every expression you made as you hit your peak. Your back arched, exposing your full breasts to his desperate gaze and he nearly came in his pants from the sight alone.

Your body relaxed into the water and you sighed in satisfaction. Your eyes opened lazily as a delighted smile grew on your face. Looking forward, you froze as your gaze met his in the mirror. His breath caught in his chest as you gasped loud, submerging yourself further into the water and turning your body to face him. Shit.

Your eyes were wide and your heartbeat had increased. He could almost feel the heat burning beneath your skin in embarrassment as you looked at him in shock. He tried to think of something to say, but panic began building inside of him and clouding his mind.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you screeched.

He was frozen in shame. He should have never invaded your privacy like this. He regretted it. He did not know what possessed him to follow his primal instincts, but he cursed himself as he was unable to speak.

“Well?” you asked, and he could feel your embarrassment slowly shifting into anger.

“Do you normally spy on naked females?” Your tone was sharp and your lips were downturned into a frown. He could practically sense your body vibrating with unleashed wrath.

His cheeks burned bright red in embarrassment. He wished to explain himself–that he did not come to you with the intention of catching you in a vulnerable position. He simply wanted to speak with you. Encourage your feelings. But the sight of you…Your upper chest and shoulders were exposed, wet, and glistening in the dim lighting. Your hair was soaked, pushed all the way back and the curve of your neck was exposed to him, taunting his control. Your eyelashes were darkened, making your eyes all the more piercing. He was absolutely enchanted.

Azriel was a clever male. He was quick-witted and smart and knew his way out of most situations. But with you, he found himself absolutely struck dumb. His mind was blank, even as he begged himself to say something. To say anything.

You were growing impatient. You breathed a sharp sigh through your nose and your frown deepened. Azriel wanted to punch himself when the only thing he could think of was how pretty your mouth was and how desperate he was to have it wrapped around his length.

“You have about 3 seconds to explain yourself before I completely lose my shit and kill you.”

He knew you couldn’t kill him. It was laughable to even think of you trying. But the anger in your eyes scared him and he feared he would ruin any chance he had with you. He would never jeopardize your friendship, even if after today you decided you would never give him a chance, he needed you in his life. He could not lose you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, breathless and absolutely captivated. “I didn’t know you were bathing–I came to speak to you. I heard a noise, so I came in and…I’m sorry.” Not the most eloquent, but at least he was able to get the words out, despite his tight throat and heavy breathing.

“What did you want to speak to me about that was so pressing you had to walk in on me and stay?” you questioned, anger still lingering in your expression, but you weren’t banishing him away.

“I overheard you tell the girls that you have feelings for me.” Your anger shifted into shock for a moment, before turning back into embarrassment. You broke eye contact with him, looking away, eyes panicked and eyebrows scrunched together in worry. He wanted to comfort you, but within seconds, your expression stilled, morphing back into anger and you turned your eyes back to him.

You glared at him, anger and indignation seeping from you. “Well, if you wanted to turn me down, save it. I never expected anything from you. Now, please leave.”

He wanted to laugh, but knew that you would not take it well. Turn you down? He would be the most foolish male in the whole of Prythian to let you go.

“How could I ever turn you down when you’re all I ever think about?” You were silent at his confession, and your glare softened. “How could I ever turn you down when I have been in love with you since the second that I met you? How could I ever turn down my mate?”

You were stunned, eyes widening and you stared at him, unblinkingly.

“...Your mate?” you said. Your voice sounded small and the vulnerable expression on your face nearly broke his heart. “How long have you known?”

“It snapped for me the day I met you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t want it?”

“Of course I want it,” he said and took a step toward you. You didn’t stop him. You stared at him, your beautiful eyes wide and lined with unshed tears. “You’re everything I ever dreamed of and more. I wanted you to feel it on your own time. I didn’t want to pressure you. I know that I come with a lot of baggage and that I don’t deserve your love. And I’m sorry about this. I’ve just dreamt about seeing you like this for so long. I’ve imagined what your skin would feel like, your lips…”.

He knew he was rambling and finally decided to have some self-preservation. “I’m so sorry for invading your privacy, (Y/N). I’ll leave now.”

He turned away in shame, taking a step toward the door before your soft voice stopped him.

“Find out,” you breathed. His gaze found you again, your eyes softened and a small smile played on your lips.

He grew nervous and he felt his throat tighten. His shadows coiled around him anxiously waiting.“What do you mean?”

“How my skin feels like, my lips…”

You stood, droplets of bath water sliding down smooth, soft skin. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest as he traced a drop down between your breasts, down your navel, and down to the curls between your thighs. You stood bare before him–the most exquisite sight he had ever beheld. Your breath quickened, drawing his attention back to your perfect breasts. He envisioned himself walking up to you, taking a peak into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the supple skin.

“(Y/N).” He sighed your name, quietly and reverently. His gaze returned to your face, piercing eyes meeting yours and every fiber of his being felt like it was being lit on fire.

He took a step towards you, his hand extending out as if to touch you, but he pulled it back. His shadows and wings were held taught against him, and his body nearly vibrated at having you this close and completely vulnerable before him. You stepped out of the tub and on to the plush rug on the floor and took a step toward him. He stared, afraid to move or even blink, as you approached him and closed the distance between you. This had to be a dream, a vivid fantasy his cruel mind was inventing. But you stood in front of him, real, completely naked and dripping wet and he was painfully hard beneath his pants.

“Find out,” you murmured, close enough that your warm breath brushed against the skin of his bare chest. Before he was aware of what you had done, your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, bringing him closer and you pressed your lips against his.

He froze for a moment, shock overtaking him before elation began growing and spreading throughout his being. His arms came up, wrapping around your bare waist and he pulled you closer to him as he began to eagerly kiss you back. He was addicted, your taste and the softness of your lips against his overwhelming his senses. He could not think. All he could smell was you. All he could hear was your breathing and the beating of your heart. All he could feel was the pleasant heat between your lips and the warmth of your skin on his.

He could not stop his hands from roaming your skin, large hands touching any part of you he could get to, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. His touch reached the plump skin of your ass and he could not help but to give the meaty flesh a squeeze. You moaned, the sound like heaven to his ears, and he took the opportunity to dive his tongue into your mouth. Your arms squeezed him tighter to you, pulling him down to your height. His hands slid to your thighs and he stood up straight, carrying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He stepped forward, pressing your back against the floor length mirror on the wall and his lips began to trail the delicate skin of your neck. You sighed, going pliant and melting into his arms.

“You said my name,” he murmured against you, one of his hands roaming to your front. The feel of your breast in his hand left him nearly breathless.

“What?” you gasped as he bit down on the junction between your neck and shoulder. Fuck, you were delicious. He could not get enough of you.

“Were you thinking of me while you were touching yourself?” he teased. He pressed his hips against yours and pinched your nipple; your gasp and the slight friction made a shiver run down his spine. Excitement, hope, and love flooded his senses as he finally had you in his arms.

“You weren’t supposed to see,” you said sheepishly, turning your face away from him in embarrassment.

He took the opportunity and began kissing down your jaw and neck, the soft gasps escaping you exciting him more. His hands returned to your thighs, hoisting you higher in his embrace and he attached his mouth to your nipple. You were mesmerizing, absolutely beautiful and his heart beat hard in his chest. He could not wait to drown in the silkiness of your skin, the feel of your hands on his body, your kisses, your essence…He was starving for you.

He licked at your skin, sucking the delicate nub and pinching it between his teeth, your soft sounds encouraging him. Your hands gripped his shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin and he shuddered at the stinging pleasure.

You moaned as he sucked on your nipple hard, and your hands began to wander the exposed skin of his chest, your small fingers traveling the terrain with purpose, dipping along his muscles and caressing his tattoos affectionately. He savored the feeling of you touching him, your warmth, how it felt to have you in his arms. His heart beat erratically in his chest and he feared you would put an end to it. He feared you would never allow him this close to you again. So he took his time to memorize you, so that if nothing else, he could have this night for the rest of his life.

Your hands traveled up his neck, and you tilted his jaw up. He looked up at you in awe as you leaned down and pressed your lips against his once more. Your kiss was addicting–soft and passionate, desperate and accepting. He barely registered your hand sneaking down and pushing his sweatpants down his hips, leaving him just as bare as you were.

You wiggled in his arms and he lowered you, leaning down and keeping his lips pressed firmly to yours. His tongue pressed at the seam of your lips and you breathed a laugh as you broke apart from him. He almost whimpered at the loss of your lips.

“Fuck, Az, you’re so hot,” you mumbled as you began pressing kisses down his chest. His hands clung to your shoulders and he hissed as you bit his nipple. You giggled, smiling up at him cheekily.

“Fucking tease,” he growled.

“Should I make it up to you?” you asked, sinking down to your knees in front of him.

Shock flew throughout his body as you pressed your mouth against his cock, hands coming up to wrap around him. Soft, tiny licks to his shaft made him twitch in your hands and you smiled up at him. You gently sucked the tip into your mouth and his heart stuttered in his chest.

“Sweetheart,” he started, his voice tight and restrained. Despite wanting desperately to fuck into your mouth with reckless abandon, he didn’t want you to feel forced to do this for him. “You don’t have to.”

“I know,” you murmured. The vibrations of your voice traveled along his cock, up his spine, and caused his brain to malfunction for a moment. “I want to.”

Before he could formulate a response in his mind, you sucked his cock into your mouth, deep into your throat and your hands gripped whatever you were not able to stuff inside of your mouth.

“Fuck!” He had died. He had ascended to the heavens, he was sure of it. This was the most exquisite, erotic experience of his life. You began dragging your mouth to the tip and back up the shaft; the suction of your mouth and the tightness of your throat was pure perfection. He could hardly believe that you were real. His hand came up and wrapped around your hair, desperate for anything to ground him to the earth.

He stared at your face and your eyes shifted up, looking at him through your lashes and he groaned at the sight of just how deep you were taking him.

“Stop,” he begged. He needed you to stop before he was not able to contain himself any longer. He wanted to be inside of you when he came.

You ignored his plea, suctioning your cheeks in and sucking him harder. He felt his balls tighten and he whimpered.

“Fuck, please,” he groaned and pulled your hair hard, tugging your head back and away from him. You moaned and your eyes sparked with interest at his roughness. Interesting. He made a mental note to explore that in the future with you if he ever got the chance.

“I need to fuck you,” he said, leaning down and gripping your hips, lifting you in his arms once more. He carried you with ease to the countertop, sitting you on it and slotting himself between your legs. You hissed at the coldness of the marble beneath you, but it didn’t stop you from kissing him again. He wrapped his arms fully around you, engulfing you in him as his wings dipped forward. You fell pliant in his arms and for a brief moment, the exhilarating thought crossed his mind that you would let him do anything he wanted to you.

With you distracted, he took the opportunity, sending his shadows to pin your legs to the marble beneath you and your arms to the mirror behind you. You gasped in shock as he broke away from you, taking a few steps back and observing you.

“Azriel?” you gasped, looking at him with love-drunk eyes. He did not answer, taking the time to drink you in. Your perfect face, desperation clinging to your expression. Your breasts were on full display for him. His eyes wandered further down your exquisite figure, stopping at your glistening cunt. You were completely exposed to him.

“You wanted to know how I use my shadows during sex,” he stated and you gasped, embarrassment flooding your features as you realized that he had overheard more of your conversation than you expected. “You’re about to find out.”

His shadows spread across the expanse of your body as Azriel stood firmly planted where he stood, observing the delectable sight before him. The shadows curled around your nipples, twisting them and pinching them and you let out a cry of pleasure, arching your back. He sent more of them lower on your body, softly caressing the seam at your center and you whined.

“How does it feel?” he asked, wanting to know just how good you felt.

“It’s so good Azriel,” you moaned. The shadows at your cunt squeezed against your clit and you screamed, your chest rising rapidly as you became breathless.

“I-I”ve never felt anything like this,” you nearly sobbed. Your wetness dripped out of you, and he watched in cruel anticipation as your body writhed–right on brink of climax from his shadows alone.

“Azriel, please, I need you.” He chuckled lowly at your plea for him. He had no intention of touching you just yet.

“Is that it?” he taunted. “I think you can do better than that.”

You yelled in pleasure as his shadows gave a particularly tight pinch on your clit.

“Azriel! Please! Please, I need your cock inside of me, I need to touch you. I need you to fuck me, please!” you cried out, just before hitting your peak. You groaned loudly as you arched your back. Your cum squirted out of you and he groaned, taking quick strides towards you and stuffing his face into your pussy, desperate for a taste of you. He drank your sweet juices and his tongue rubbed relentlessly against your clit, prolonging your orgasm as much as possible.

He slowly called his shadows back to him, releasing you from their hold and he crawled his way back up your body, pressing soft kisses against your skin. He pressed a soft, chaste kiss on your lips.

“Someone’s a desperate, little slut,” he said and you smiled, leaning into him and nipping his lip.

“Only for you,” you said, and spread your legs open, revealing your messy cunt to him once more.

He stared for a moment before you gripped his face and brought his attention back to your face. “Well? Are you going to give this desperate, little slut what she wants?”

He was blown away at your insolent, bratty attitude. The normally shy, quiet, sweet girl was gone, replaced by a wild, untamed goddess of sex and beauty. He wanted to tease you, but he was absolutely mesmerized and knew he needed to fuck you, desperate for the feel of you and for his release.

He lined himself up at your entrance and slowly slid inside of you. Your eyes rolled back and you tilted your head back in pleasure as every inch of his dick slowly slid into your tight hole. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The heat, the tightness, the wetness was driving him wild and he wanted to rut into you recklessly. But he went slow until he bottomed out. You were stuffed to the brim, his head nestling tight against your cervix.

He began fucking into you in earnest, the friction driving him delirious. He craved every single touch you surrendered to him. He wished to be so deep inside of you that he did not know where one ended and the other began. The golden string tying his soul to yours sang in his chest, bright and unyielding, and it brought tears to his eyes as the floodgates of the bond suddenly opened, your emotions of pleasure and admiration and love flooding into his heart.

Your eyes widened, tears lining them and you smiled brilliantly at him.

“My mate,” you whispered, feeling the bond open on your end. He returned your smile, unbridled and open, and the bond between you glowed–incandescent and fierce and all-consuming.

He surrendered to his emotions, fucking into you with abandonment and a newfound ferocity. You screamed in pleasure and you clenched around him, making him gasp. The sight of your face, contorted in pleasure, the glow of your skin, still damp and gleaming with sweat, your scent intermingled with the unmistakable musk of sex, the feeling of your tight cunt wrapping around him and accommodating his impressive length perfectly–it was all too much for him.

He was hanging on the precipice, determined to bring you to your high before falling off the edge. He was so close and so were you. He never thought he would ever feel such pleasure from sex. Sex had always been good, great even. But with you, it was something else entirely. With the golden thread now formed between the two of you, the feeling of your pleasure increased his tenfold and his heart swelled with uncontrollable love. No one would ever compare to you–he would never want anyone else.

You sobbed in pleasure as your pussy clenched tight around him and you came with a scream. Your arms clutched him to you, and he groaned loudly as your walls fluttered around him. His pleasure built to a peak and his vision went white as he came inside of you. He buried himself to the hilt, as deep as he could go and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, your entire body pressed against him.

The room was silent for a few moments. Azriel pressed his head against your panting chest, your breathing and the beat of your heart a comforting rhythm in his ear. Your hand gently ran through his hair, playing with the soft strands and gently combing through the tangles.

He looked up at you and found your eyes already fixed on him. He smiled softly and pressed a kiss against your jaw.

“I’m sorry I was creeping on you,” he said sheepishly.

You laughed and leaned down to press a kiss against his head. “I’m sure I can think of some ways you can make it up to me. Maybe I’ll have to tie you up and force you to watch me pleasure myself all night long.”

He glared up at you. “You’re a fucking tease.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” He couldn’t wait to find out.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel/reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic

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theostrophywife · 1 year

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disturbia.

author's note: this is very different from anything i've ever written and largely inspired by this song. it's quite dark, so trigger warning for dark!az, predator/prey, and dub-con elements.

the shadowsinger had a sinister secret.

azriel was hungry. he craved, he coveted. within him was a festering desire, blossoming like a nightshade, unfurling its poisonous fruit with quiet malevolence since the day he first laid eyes on you.

you.

he desired you, ached for you. didn’t you know that he would do anything for you? didn’t you know that he would kill for you?

surely not.

because if you did, you wouldn’t be wasting your time on that pathetic excuse of a male that called himself your boyfriend. if only you realized that azriel was the only person for you. the one that knew you, the one that loved you, the one that watched you.

the shadowsinger couldn’t help himself. you made it so easy. hasn’t anyone ever taught you to cover your windows? to double check the lock on your doors? to reinforce the wards around your home?

if azriel didn’t know any better, he’d think that you were doing this on purpose. maybe you wanted him to see. maybe you pretended not to notice him in the shadows. maybe you feigned ignorance to the fact that he snuck in through your window every night, watching and waiting.

with his shadows enveloping him, azriel was nearly invisible in the swath of darkness that was your room. the shadowsinger claimed his post by the corner, squinting through the faint sliver of moonlight cascading over your writhing body.

at first, he thought you were asleep. perhaps in the throes of a nightmare.

but he was wrong.

your breathing sounded soft and ragged, the pounding of your heart echoing in his ears as you twisted through the sheets. a crease formed between his brows as he crept closer. you were utterly oblivious and completely unaware of his presence. you weren’t dreaming at all, but instead touching yourself.

mesmerized, the shadowsinger watched through heavy lids as your dainty fingers slipped between your legs, taunting and teasing as you spread your own slick through your puffy folds. azriel’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as the sweet, heady scent of arousal filled the room.

he'd crawl on his hands and knees for a chance to taste you.

the little whines and pants that escaped your lips sounded like heaven to his ears. the shadowsinger gripped the edge of your four poster bed as you spread your legs even wider, blankets sliding off of your creamy thighs as your fingers plunged into your soaking wet folds. you arched against the bed so prettily, cheeks flushed and lips bloodred as you bit down on a moan.

“fuck,” you keened as your fingers found purchase against your clit. “so good. so fucking good, azriel.”

azriel paused in the darkness. his breathing stilled. shadows peered over his shoulders. he was dreaming—he had to be. only in his wildest fantasies would you be moaning his name while fucking yourself with your fingers.

“gods, just like that. feels so fucking good,” the breathy cadence of your voice made his cock stiffen in his trousers. “don’t stop, azriel.”

one of azriel’s shadows snaked across your torso, twining through your soaked fingers to provide assistance. you bit down on your bottom lip and blood rushed straight to the shadowsinger’s already hard length. as soon as you sensed his shadow, your eyes flew open, blinking yourself back to reality. azriel could hear the thunderous beat of your heart as you scrambled and pushed yourself against the headboard, trembling at the sight of him lurking in the shadows.

it was one thing to fantasize about the shadowsinger, but quite another to find him prowling towards you in the dark.

“how did you get in here?” you asked with a fraught tone.

"the window," the shadowsinger said, his eyes trained on you. his voice, which sounded like cold death, caused the hairs on the back of your neck to prickle. "you should really check the locks before touching yourself. you never know who could be watching, little dove."

azriel inched closer, watching as your arousal transformed into something much sweeter—fear. you clutched the blankets up to your chest, but the thin fabric slipped between your fingers, giving him a perfect view of the sheer baby pink lace that barely concealed your body.

"what—what do you want from me—" your voice trembled as the shadowsinger smirked.

in one swift motion, azriel yanked you to the edge of the bed, the silk of your skimpy nightgown riding up your thighs as he wrapped your ankles around his waist. scarred fingers toyed with the flimsy straps of your gown and your breath hitched as his rough, calloused hands made contact with your sensitive skin.

"i think the better question is, what do you want from me, little dove?" azriel fisted your hair and tugged forcefully. "i heard you moaning my name.”

your cheeks reddened. it was supposed to be a fantasy. a dirty little secret that you only allowed yourself to indulge in within the privacy of your room. azriel wasn’t meant to know that it was him you thought about when your hands were between your legs. or that it was him that you imagined when your boyfriend was on top of you.

ex-boyfriend, now that you finally admitted to yourself that he could never please you in the way that you desired. still, the shadowsinger didn’t need to know that.

“you heard wrong. i wasn’t moaning your name. i was —i was thinking about my boyfriend. he’ll be back any second now.”

a blatant lie. one that azriel clearly saw right through.

“no, he won’t. you never let him sleep over. why is that, little dove? does he not satisfy you?” azriel drew patterns upon your skin, his soft voice calm yet menacing at the same time. “does he not seduce you in the ways that you wish to be seduced?”

your eyes fluttered close as the shadowsinger tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his cool breath fanned over your overheated skin as he grazed his teeth along your earlobe. “i bet he can’t fuck you like i can.”

too far. you had let this go too far. you were supposed to hate him. azriel was the hunter; you, the hunted. the shadowsinger was a wolf waiting to sink his claws into his doe-eyed prey. everything about him should have repulsed you, but instead you felt seduced by the dark, demented male.

"i don't know how you got in, but i think you should leave," you breathed, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy with unshed tears. you tried to make your voice sound as authoritative as possible, but it faltered into a soft, raspy murmur, which only made the shadowsinger smirk arrogantly. "you're scaring me—"

azriel gripped the back of your head, lightly tugging at your scalp. despite the alarms blaring in your mind, you couldn't help but lean into his touch. he felt warm and solid against you, his muscled thigh pressing against your core. "oh, but i don't think i am, little dove. i think you wanted me to hear. i think you've known that i've been watching you for a while now and i think you it turns you on."

underneath the blankets, your fingers curled around the mug you had swiped from the dresser. before azriel could come any closer, you smashed the glass to the side of his head, but it met empty air instead. the winged male disappeared into a veil of shadows, submerging the room in utter darkness. the mug clattered to the floor just as his low, husky voice slithered through the silence.

"run."

you bolted out of your bedroom, bare feet thudding through the hallway as you raced for the stairs. behind you, azriel chuckled darkly as you gave chase. you knew he could easily catch you by moving through his shadows, but he didn't. it was almost like he was enjoying this. like he was getting off on frightening you. he was the predator; you were the prey.

and you didn't stand a chance against him.

but still, you flew past the front door and ran through the clearing behind your house as fast as your aching legs would take you. the moon glittered overhead as you tripped over the roots and branches of the sinister forest, running and running with nowhere to go. your nightgown caught on a bramble of thorns and the delicate lace ripped at the hem, revealing even more of your already exposed skin.

the cold winter air caused you to shiver violently, but you had no time to ponder your discomfort as you rounded on a thicket of oak trees. you cried out as something sharp pierced your skin. a thorn had scratched your face and blood welled like crimson tears upon your cheekbone. with shaking hands, you swiped at the scratch and winced at the sting of pain.

"poor little dove," azriel cooed, materializing out of nothingness. you pressed against the nearest tree, the rough bark biting your skin as you attempted to place distance between you and the shadowsinger. the slash of his smirk made you shiver. azriel prowled through the forest like a wolf, his golden eyes hungry. "so frail and helpless. let me help you, little one."

the shadowsinger cornered you, his dark wings blocking any means of escape. you whimpered as he caressed your cheek. his breath was warm against your face as he licked away the droplets of blood dripping from your scratch.

“don’t,” you cried out, shoving at his immovable chest. “don’t touch me!”

azriel took hold of your wrists and slammed you backwards against the oak tree. the rough bark scratched at your arms and legs, feeling like a thousand tiny needles all over your body. with tear stained cheeks, you looked up at azriel. the eerie silver light from the crescent moon kissed his sharp, elegant features. he was classically handsome, beautiful in a lethal sort of way. you clenched your thighs together as those whiskey eyes hungrily raked over your figure, stripping you down with the lick of his gaze.

everything within you screamed that the shadowsinger was a sick and twisted predator. one who had snuck into your bedroom and admitted to watching you. the dark obsession azriel fostered for you made him a very dangerous male. it should have triggered your adrenaline to help fight back, but instead, you found yourself frozen in place as his fingers skirted over the hem of your dress.

“your mouth says one thing,” azriel murmured while he hiked your leg up over his waist, watching with a small smile as you shuddered in response to his touch. “but your body says another.”

“so what will it be, little dove?” the shadowsinger teased as his lips ghosted over the hollow of your throat. much to your chagrin, you sighed softly and arched against his warm, wet mouth. “the way i see it, you have two choices. you can keep running through the woods, cold and alone. knowing that i’ll eventually catch you. or you could accept your fate. stop fighting this, angel. admit that you want me.”

you spat in his face. “you’re fucking delusional!”

something dark and dangerous flashed through azriel’s hazel eyes. beneath that cold, icy exterior, his frozen rage began to thaw.

azriel dug his fingers into your hips, forming bruises in his wake. “and you’re in denial,” he hissed harshly. “even now, i can smell your arousal. you’re soaked, practically dripping for me. i bet that pretty little pussy of yours is aching for my cock.”

“you’re wrong,” you said defiantly despite the traitorous throbbing in your core. “i want nothing to do with you, shadowsinger.”

“don’t fucking lie to me, little dove.”

a harsh response sat on the tip of your tongue, but it never made it out. instead, a lewd moan replaced the insult as azriel dipped two fingers across your wet, soaking folds. out of instinct, you wrapped your legs around his trim waist and steadied yourself with both hands braced against his chest.

“filthy fucking liar,” azriel hissed into your ear. “you’re so wet, little dove. my fingers slipped right in.” you whimpered as he curled his middle and pointer finger inside of you. “gods, you’re tight. i can feel your pussy clenching around me. thought you wanted nothing to do with me, hm?”

“i don’t—“ the shadowsinger hit the spongy spot within your walls and stars erupted behind your eyes. “oh, fuck azriel—“

you mewled as his thumb found purchase against your clit. he expertly teased the sensitive bundle of nerves and you felt all sense and logic depart from your lust addled brain. “oh my gods,” you breathed, feeling that familiar rush of heat. “oh my fucking gods.”

“that’s right, little dove. i’m your god now.”

this wasn't right. everything about this situation was fucked up, but nothing had ever felt quite as heavenly as azriel's fingers. the shadowsinger slipped a third digit in and the scarred and calloused ridges covering his hand provided the perfect amount of friction against your aching cunt. you could hear how wet you were, soaking his palm as you tightened around him.

"take it, little dove. doesn't it feel good to take what you fucking want?" azriel whispered as he kissed bruises against your neck. "ride my fingers just like that. not so scared now, are you? i told you, no one else could fuck you like this. i can make your body sing, pretty girl." you wrapped your legs around his waist in a death grip and blubbered against his chest.

you were supposed to be scared of him. you were not supposed to like this, but fuck you did. there was no denying the pleasure that racked through your body as you rode his fingers. "please—oh."

the shadowsinger took advantage of your parted lips and crushed your mouths together. you should've pulled away. you should've slapped him across the face, but you did neither. instead, you twined your fingers through his hair and allowed his tongue to slip past your defenses. azriel growled when you moaned into his mouth, panting as you rolled your hips against his middle.

"so fucking greedy, baby." azriel nipped at your ear and gripped your waist. "can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me, little one. look at you, using my fingers to get yourself off. c'mon then, keep fucking my hand just like that."

a jolt of electricity crackled in your veins as you grinded down and matched his pace. it was heaven, it was hell. azriel's shadows flicked around your clit and unraveled you from the inside out.

“keep making those filthy sounds and i’ll have no choice but to fuck you against this tree." azriel hissed harshly as your cunt squeezed around his fingers in response. "oh, that's what you want, isn't it little one? you're not satisfied with my fingers, are you? you want my cock, too."

the shadowsinger's dark laughter skittered over you like shadows. "i thought you hated me, hm?"

"i do," you declared, looking up at him through your lashes. "i fucking hate you."

azriel smirked. "but you want to fuck me even more."

"no—" your breath hitched as azriel grinded against you. the evidence of his arousal pressed into your middle—long and hard and throbbing.

"i know you want it, little one." the shadowsinger rolled his hips as your head fell slack against the tree. "i know you want to sink down onto my cock and take every fucking inch like a good girl. isn't that right, pretty girl?"

you whimpered in response as he pulled his trousers down, freeing his cock from the constraints of the fabric. the tip, pink and swollen and dripping with precum, teased along your entrance as you tried to wriggle away. azriel groaned as the head of his cock parted your folds slowly.

"just the tip, baby." his breathing turned ragged as your warmth and heat hugged around him. the sensation alone could have made him cum. "feels good, doesn't it? stop trying to fight it, little dove. you know you want it. you know you want me."

tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to fight the urge. you should stop. you should run. but azriel felt too fucking good.

"azriel, please."

"no." the shadowsinger growled as he gripped your jaw harshly. “don't whine. don't beg. take what you fucking want, little dove. that's the way this works. i want you, so i’m taking you. you need to do the same."

whatever shame you may have felt dissipated. there was no use denying the obvious. you may have hated him, but you wanted to fuck him even more. pushing aside your pride, you sank down onto azriel's cock with a gasp. your arousal instantly coated his length, making the shadowsinger feel as though he was drowning in your pussy.

"fuck," azriel choked out. "pussy's so wet, baby. so fucking tight too. that's it, pretty girl. clench around my cock just like that and i might fucking fall in love with you."

you clawed at azriel's back as you grinded into him, greedily bouncing on his cock as you moaned. the shadowsinger thrust upwards and fucked into you, making you squelch and squeeze around his length. the shadowsinger grunted with each thrust, driving himself deeper and deeper. the coarse bark scratched against your back, but the pain barely registered as you rolled your hips over and over again.

“azriel. azriel. azriel.”

“are you praying, baby?” azriel mused with a sharp thrust. “you should be, because no one’s saving you from me tonight. i’m your damnation, little one. i’m going to ruin you. and you’ll fucking beg for more.”

you sobbed as he pinched your right nipple with one hand and flicked his tongue over the left. there was something feral in his gaze as he drank in your eager responses, almost as though your little sighs and moans were more delicious than the finest liquor money could buy. azriel hissed when you tugged harshly at the back of his head, moaning into his mouth as his tongue claimed you. his fingers wrapped around your neck just as he sucked on your bottom lip, massaging your lips with his.

“we should stop. this is wrong. this is—“ you murmured, lifting your hips up and up until only the tip of his cock was inside of you.

“stop then, pretty girl.” azriel mocked as he held you in place. “stop riding my cock and walk away.” the shadowsinger paused, waiting for you to peel yourself off of him.

tears streaked down your cheeks as you held him closer, hands greedily slipping underneath his shirt to feel his warmth. “i can’t. its too good.”

the shadowsinger’s laughter echoed through the clearing as he slammed all the way in, rattling your brain while he fucked you against the oak wood. “that’s what i fucking thought,” he taunted.

azriel kept burying himself inside of you over and over again, drawing out your pleasure. the sound of skin slapping against skin was filthy, vulgar, and downright obscene, but it was nothing compared to azriel's mouth. every foul word that fell from his lips burned like a sweet, searing flame. azriel was a dark god and you've never felt more pious in your life as he worshipped you with his body. you cried, nails raking over his back in thin, red lines. blood seeped through his shirt as you clung onto him, but the shadowsinger made no complaints.

“can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. bet you wanna cum, huh?” azriel said as he sucked your collarbone. “go on then, little one. milk my cock dry. be fucking greedy with it. turns me on how desperate you are.”

you wailed at the utter filthiness of his words. with a sharp stroke, your vision blurred and your legs shook violently underneath you. “oh gods,” you sobbed, feeling as though you were in a trance. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

azriel’s sensitive cock throbbed as your hips stuttered, your glorious pussy clenching around him like a jealous lover. you creamed him from base to tip and he bit down on your shoulder to mask the growl that crawled up his throat.

“that’s my good little girl,” azriel praised, purring against your ear. “your pussy is fucking heaven. oh fuck, gonna cum inside you pretty girl.” hot ribbons spurted inside of you as azriel continued thrusting. “feel that, little one? that’s what you do to me. you drive me fucking wild.”

azriel grunted as he finished. “this pussy is mine and so are you. do you understand, little dove?”

the haziness of your orgasm made your head swim and you barely registered the pathetic little nod you gave. azriel smirked as you collapsed into his arms. his dark wings wrapped around you protectively. whether they were your prison or your refuge, you had no idea. all you knew was that your body buzzed from the mind shattering orgasm.

“no one would blame me if i kept you,” the shadowsinger murmured as he caressed your cheek. “i don’t care if it’s wrong. i want you. i need you and no one can take you away from me. i’d fucking gut them if they tried.”

you whimpered at his words, but azriel was undeterred by the fear swimming in your gaze. probably because the heady scent of your arousal had filled the air again. so eager for him even though he had just fucked you dumb.

“you’re fucking mine, little dove. and i’m never letting you go.”

#so i was fucking unhinged for this #but i really needed dark!az #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel/reader

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 19 days

Text

Welcome Home | Azriel x Cassian x Female Reader | One shot 3k

After a mission away your bat boys return to the comfort of home and their beautiful mate. The three of you have a lot of catching up to do, but first, a bath.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content & language, slight d/s themes, pet names, dirty talk, wing play,p in v, anal, dp, bath sex, shower sex.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Cassian - Can Yaman, Azriel - Avan Jojia images from Getty.

Created for @polyacotarweek prompt 2 - comfort

Masterlist | Poly Fics | Azriel | Cassian

Azriel and Cassian had been gone for a week this time, somewhere unknown, they had left from the roof of the House of Wind, their Illyrian leathers freshly polished.

You’d waved them off, tears in your eyes, unsure of when you would see your.boys again.

But tonight was the night, as the candles that decked the corridors of the House had extinguished behind you, swirling shadows had tangled at your feet, whispering to you. Now it wouldn't be long until their Master was beside you as well.

The clock on the mantle ticked around to 3am when Cassian finally cracked open the door to your rooms. Slowly, inching into the dark room, his wings caught on the door as they dragged tiredly behind him.

Azriel followed, dropping his own pack to the floor and kicking off his boots as quietly as possible.

“Sweetheart?” Cassian called softly, while Azriel’s shadows spread out, disappearing into the gloom in search of you.

Creeping up the side of the chaise like ivy, they reached your shoulder and curled around your ear, tickling you awake.

You'd tried to stay awake, slumped on the sofa, waiting for them, until sleep overtook you, lulling you down into the crouched position they found you in now, curled in on yourself.

“Boys?” you mumbled, sleep still clinging to you even as you tried to drag your eyes open, “You’re home.”

Cassian smiled, kneeling in front of you and cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you on the forehead. “We’re home, sweetheart, all in one piece.”

“Are you hurt? Do you need anything?” Your brain slowly kicked into gear, worry clouding your joy at the General’s return, hands running up his arms to feel for any bandages. “Is Azriel with you?”

“I’m here, baby, and we’re safe and well.” He ran a hand up your bare arm and then kissed you too, quickly and chastly before pulling back to run his eyes over you, checking that you too were well, fed and happy.

“Good, my boys,” you reached both hands out, touching their cheeks in turn and pulling them to you, “are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“We’re just dusty and muddy. I could do with a wash and I really want to kiss you again right now.” Cassian laughed, sitting back on his heels so he could look at you properly.

His head was heavy with what looked like caked mud, his usual long waves weighed down in limp grey tendrils around his face. Even the little lines of his cheeks and eyes seemed to be picked out with it. You leaned down, your lips fitting against his perfectly, as if you were made to kiss each other forever. Despite his clothes and the dust settling on the carpet, his lips were soft as they moved over yours, picking up where he left off when you said goodbye.

Azriel hadn’t fared any better, but he was quietly watching you, those hazel eyes of his roving over your own body, making sure you were safe too.

Reluctantly, you pulled away. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” You sat up, pushing your blanket to the floor. Cassian kicked it away and Azriel scooped you up into his arms.

You ran your hands into his hair, picking out debris with a laugh. Even their leathers was filthy, the white dust of limestone shining against the pitch black leather.

“What happened to you?” You lay your head against his shoulder and began fiddling with the straps of his armour as he led the way to the large bathing room.

“Best not to ask,” Cassian grumbled, “Blame Lucien if you have to blame someone, setting fires and cracking walls. We all got showered in it. You can imagine how upset Rhys is!” He chuckled.

You giggled too, remembering Rhy’s face the last time his pristine suit got dirty. Azriel jostled you in his arms, “he was very upset.”

Cassian rolled his eyes, turning into the bathing room and letting his wings flare a little, dust and debris falling from between them too, the veins and creases of his delicate wings filled with soot.

“You two should rinse off before you get anywhere near the tub,” you pointed at the cubicle in the corner of the bathing room. You’d asked Rhys for one after he’d had a similar thing specially commissioned for Nesta, it stopped your beautiful sunken tub from getting filled with mud and dust after your boys got back from training, missions, daily life - how they managed to get so dirty just existing was beyond you.

As an incentive you began unbuckling Azriel’s leathers further, letting them drop to the floor, before you could turn to help Cassian too the male was behind you, his hands on your hips.

“Are you going to join us?” He hummed in your ear, the feel of his chest vibrating against your back, his powerful arms surrounding you sent heat straight to your core.

“It’ll be very lonely without you, baby.” Azriel’s hands were on you now too, pulling up the sheer nightgown you’d worn, hoping for this very moment when two sets of battle weary hands would strip you back out of it.

“There she is,” Cassian’s hands moved up from your stomach to cup your breasts, your nipples hardening. Azriel bent forwards, latching his lips onto one nipple and then the next, flicking and teasing them until they ached.

You let your head drop back against Cassian’s chest as Azriel moved lower, kissing down your stomach until he knelt on the floor at your feet. Scarred hands ran up your legs, his thumbs tickling the inside of your thighs, tantalisingly close to wear your silk underwear clung to your slick folds.

His hooked his fingers into the band of your underwear and stopped there, staring up at you.

Cassian’s large hand crept up over your sternum and wrapped loosely around your throat, holding your head back. Despite his gentle hold your breath stuttered out of you.

“Good girl, ask him nicely if he’ll take them off for you.”

He let go, only enough for him to use his thumb on your chin to tilt your head down to look at the famed Illyrian warrior, his wings spread out around him, his eyes glowing in the faelight.

“Puh-please take them off, Az.”

He began sliding them down your legs, carefully lifting your feet in turn and then throwing them behind his back.

As he stood he let his fingers dance up between your legs, barely skimming over the slick that stuck your thighs together, before laying his hand over Cassian’s and claiming your mouth.

“We missed you so much,” Cassian crooned, pressing wet kisses up the side of your neck, “couldn’t wait to get home to our little sweetheart.”

Your heart was pounding, the thick heat of the streaming bathroom only making your body slicker and hotter. Cassian sucked your ear lobe between his teeth, worrying the delicate flesh until your knees buckled and Azriel had to take your weight, sliding his thigh between your sweat slick legs.

“Shower-” you moaned brokenly, trying to get Azriel to step backwards under the rainforest showerhead. He relented, allowing the hot water to drip from his hair like summer rain. “Let me - ugh - wash you.” Every word was a struggle against the on-slaught of pleasure from both warriors.

Cassian moved away, the loss of his body heat sending goosebumps flaring over your skin. Behind you the sound of water splashing into the enormous tub filled the room.

Azriel stepped away too, lifting his face into the water and rubbing his hands over his face. You followed, wrapping your arms around his waist and allowing your hands to find the sensitive spot where his wings met his back.

“What are you doing, baby?” His gaze snapped down, sending water flying.

“Let me wash you,” you pouted, two scarred hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed the pout from your lips. But then he turned, kneeling on the floor of the shower so you should reach him.

The lavender soap was slippery in your hands, filling the shower area with its sweet, floral scent.

You began with his shoulders, rubbing the knots away with your thumbs and then sliding your hands over his shoulders, suds revealing hints of the detailed tattoos that hid beneath, fingers brushing over the hard nubs of nipples before squeezing the soft muscle of his pecs playfully.

Cassian, hair now slicked back from face, stepped behind you in turn, guiding your hands back to Azriel’s shoulders.

“Just - here,” he nuzzled into the soft spot below your ear, moving your hand between Az’s wings and then pressing.

In front of you Azriel moaned, a deep sound that bounced off the tiles and vibrated up your legs. Cassian chuckled behind you and pressed again.

“Wicked, both of you, wicked, teasing -” he stood and turned, crowding you back against Cas until all three of you were in the corner of the shower, kissing and laughing while Azriel tickled up your sides.

“Hmm, time for the bath I think,” Cas wrapped his arms around you, reaching for Az.

“I agree,” you nodded, breathless.

Tearing yourself away from their searching hands and hungry kisses, you added a large squeeze of bubble bath to the filling tub. You barely had time to turn around again before Cassian hauled you into his arms and kissed you.

“Fuck, I missed you, baby, you’ll stay with us in the bath, right?” His hazel eyes, so full of lust just moments before, were clouded with something else too, a fear, a need to be close.

“How can I say no to you, Cas?” You looked down into his gorgeous face, clean now after his quick shower, glowing in the steamy room.

“Good,” Az sighed into your ear, the feeling of his shivering shadows creeping up your legs and around your waist.

Surrounded, you were entirely surrounded by them and it was exactly where you needed and wanted to be. Between your boys, safe and loved and close, just the three of you in the sanctuary you’d created.

“Good!” Cassian echoed, climbing into the overflowing water.

“Cassy!” You giggled, sloshing the water as you both got comfortable before Azriel climbed in too.

The tub was enormous, large enough for both males and their impressive wingspans, but you crowded together anyway, needing to feel them. You leaned forwards and pressed a chaste kiss to Azriel, revealing in the contrast of his cold shadows on your cheeks and his warm, full lips gently parting your own.

Cassian’s grip on your hips tightened, “where are you going?” he tugged you back into his lap and nuzzled kisses into your neck. “I’ve gotta feel you, baby,” he hummed, settling your hips directly over his so you could feel the hard length of his arousal between your legs.

Gods you’d missed this, the way your pulse raced and your body reacted for them. Your legs falling further open and your hips grinding back against him.

“Fuck, sweetheart, we can’t flood the bathroom again,” Azriel groaned, remembering the last time the three of you had taken a bath together, the whole floor had been soaked within minutes, soap and suds dripping out of the floor length open windows into the jasmine scented sky.

“Just - let me -” he nipped gently at your shoulder, “feel you then.” You never could resist when he turned on his puppy dog eyes, how could you when they were so full of want and desire and the tip of his cock was nudging between your legs in that sinful way.

You knew exactly what he wanted and you needed it too, reaching between you, you took hold of his hard cock and lined him up against your entrance, sinking down slowly. The first inch was always the hardest, his thick head stretching you, the pressure against your clit so sudden and delicious you could barely keep your eyes open.

And then you felt Az’s shadows on your cheeks again and you opened your eyes to meet his, dark with lust and need while he watched you sink back down into Cassian’s lap with a gasp.

Open mouthed, you gasped harder, feeling him so deep inside of you after so long was a welcome shock.

“You look so beautiful like this, sweetheart.” Azriel’s voice was a low purr, each word punctuated by his shadows skittering over your skin, dancing between the dappled candlelight.

“Az-” you moaned, leaning back against Cassian once more, ever your rock in this sea of pleasure.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered into your ear, soft and low, “taking me so well, taking such good care of me.” He pressed a kiss behind your ear, hands squeezing your hips. “But I think Azzie is lonely over there.” He tipped your chin back up to look at Azriel again, one arm resting on the tile surround, the other under the bubbles, his arm moving slowly as he pumped his cock. “Why don’t you keep him company?”

Azriel met you searching hand with his own scarred palm, lacing your fingers together and drawing you closer. With a whimper you allowed Cassian’s cock to slip free, instantly feeling lost and empty without his firm, grounding presence. But Azriel was quick to help, situating you on his lap, knees spread wide around his hips and the wide head of his own cock nudging against your entrance.

He swiped a hand over your forehead, beads of sweat forming from the heat of the bath, down your cheek and neck, his thumb pressing up just a little as it brushed under you chin. It was like you couldn’t breath, taking in his gentle touch, the caress of his hand over your nipple and down your side before he corsetted your waist with his fingers. And then you were lowering on to him too, taking every delicious inch that he had to offer.

“You feel heavenly, baby,” he whispered, nosing at your jaw and nipping at your throat while you rolled your hips. “Would be a shame not to share you.”

The water swirled around you both and Cassian’s scent heightened as he drew closer, his hands over Azriel’s at your waist and then dipping lower, lower, tracing the dip at the small of your back and slipping under the water to cup the round swell of your bottom. Massaging and pressing, his fingers touching the delicate skin that stretched so tight around Azriel’s length and then pulling back to circle the your tight pucker.

“This okay, sweetheart?” He breathed and the feel of his lips on your cheek, Azriel’s on your shoulder, their bodies slick and hard and wanting surrounding you had you whimpering again, clinging to them. You’d take everything they would give you, every touch, every kiss and every inch.

“Yes - yes - Cassian - please.” You begged, letting your head fall back against him, that familiar movement, that let you feel safe in his arms, that let you gasp and shudder as he pressed inside, knowing they would keep you here on the precipice of pleasure.

“Fuck-” he brought his other hand around your chest, pulling you tight against him, cupping your breast in his large palm. “You’re perfect - perfect.” He grunted, a second finger joining the first and your mouth fell open in a silent shout.

“Gods damn, Cassian, I can feel you.” Azriel shut his eyes, leaning into your chest and laving at your free nipple, he sucked the stiff nub into his mouth and worried it with his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose in his efforts to stay still.

You could feel Cassian’s answering smirk on the cooling skin of your shoulder and then, just as suddenly, deep inside where he curled and spread his fingers.

“Cassie,” you whined, shifting down into the full feeling, trying to move yourself while trapped between the two Illyrian males and finding no give in their embrace. “Please.”

You didn’t need to beg further because Azriel took up your cause, barking at Cassian to hurry up before he embarrassed himself. His fingers were gone in an instance, replaced by the blunt, wide head of his cock and then - “Cass-” his name was punched from your lungs, leaving you breathless and floating between them. But they didn’t move.

Together, you soaked in the bubbles for a few minutes, connected again after so much time apart, each intake of breath making them shift inside of you, sending sparks of heat across your skin. They were here, with out, safe and unharmed.

The aching of their initial thrusts gave way to a deep, dull, yearning for more. You clenched around them, trying to stay still but finding it increasingly difficult to stop your body moving, it was drawn to them, needing to feel them moving and loving you as much as they needed to hold you.

Azriel pulled away from you and opened one eye. “Baby, you need to stay still.” His soft, sleepy voice rolled over your skin, igniting your need further, he had fallen as deeply as you, hypnotised by the flickering candles, your combined scents and the closeness that you all craved.

“Az, I can’t,” you cried, biting into his shoulder to stop your moans as your hips found the perfect pressure, “I missed you both so fucking much.”

You hooked one arm around his shoulder and the other behind you to tangle in the messy of Cassian’s curls.

“Fuck,” Cassian grunted, “I’m trying to be good here, don’t wanna make a mess like last time” He chuckled thrusting up anyway, the water swirling around the three of you and spilling over the sides of the tub and across the pearlescent tiles.

“I don’t care, I don’t care, I just need you, please, fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” Frantically, you moved your hands and kissed Azriel roughly before turning your head to capture Cassian’s lips too.

“Okay,” Azriel smiled, a secret smile that only you and Cassian ever saw, “but remember you asked for it.”

He gripped your hips again, fingers bruising tight on your hips, and thrust up, chasing his release.

“Fuck, Azriel,” Cassian groaned behind you, biting into your shoulder and starting to move in contrast to Az.

“I love you,” you moaned, eyes closed, lost in bliss. “I love you both so much.” Your climax hit you like an arrow, your whole body clenching around them as your walls fluttered, drawing them ever closer to their own release.

“Love you too, Sweetheart.”

“Love you, Baby.”

They growled in unison cumming hard, Azriel bent his head back into your chest, nipping at the soft swell of your breast. Cassian dug his fingers into your waist, pulling you down onto them one last time.

You stayed there, sandwiched between them, matching smiles on your sated faces, until the water went cold and the bubbles faded.

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azrielhours · 4 months

Text

Our Marriage Bed

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: Azriel is slowly going insane wanting you, having difficulty differentiating between dreams and wakefulness. One night his dream carries over and he tries to get it on with you.

Warnings: Slightly darker sexual themes. Unclear beginning/end of wakefulness. Light choking, rough sex. Azzy being mean.

a/n: dedicated to my darling @tadpolesonalgae. Can be read alone, but part 2 to Company of Phantoms

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel couldn’t recall the last time in his five centuries he felt this much raw contentment. He was sitting in your room, waiting. Since that night you’d invited him to share your bed, a door had been opened. A friendship, he supposed, though friendship was a pathetic encapsulation for the trove of feelings he kept barely buried beneath the surface. The more nights he spent with you, the more the lines blurred between the boundaries of this arrangement. As did the boundaries of his sanity, but who was he to complain when he got to sleep in your arms night after night?

He basked in your space, illuminated by a warm glow. Your scent lingered in the sheets. Your books spilling secrets of your intellect on the shelves. Your music taste contained in the Symphonia on your dresser. Little pockets of you for Azriel to satiate himself with.

Azriel caught himself nodding off on the bed when the doorknob turned, and he straightened. Wordlessly, you walked right to him, a privilege he was yet to grow accustomed to. “Y/N,” he breathed as you sat right before him. You brought your hand to his chest, running it down his sternum, catching the skip in his heart. Azriel felt his last dregs of tiredness dissipate. Were you about to kiss him?

“Y/N—”

“Azriel,” you purred like a song.

He couldn’t breathe as your lips grazed his cheek, trailing to the corner of his mouth.

“Azriel.”

“Yes.”

“I have to tell you something.” Again, that dreamy drawl. He swallowed, waiting. But you only moved to trail your lips to his other cheek, shifting closer so your breasts pressed against his chest. Traced your mouth to his ear, letting your breath fan across his ear. There, you only whispered, Azriel.

Azriel.

“Azriel?”

Azriel snapped awake.

Fuck.

You stood next to him—next to the armchair, where he’d—

He looked around. Not in your bed. His cheeks heated. You hadn’t been—touching him, hadn’t tried to—

“Sorry for taking so long,” you spoke softly. Not in that echoey chant.

“That’s okay,” he said. Just a dream.

You only smiled sweetly at him. “Did you want to sleep here again, baby?”

Baby. God, you were killing him.

Azriel only nodded. You bit your lip apprehensively. How you managed to call him pet names and sleep next to him but still blush at the suggestion had him huffing a laugh. He reached out, gently clasping your forearms, tugging you down. You gasped, bracing your hands on his chest, landing into his lap. Azriel bit back his twin surprise at his brazenness, but when you leaned closer, he relaxed into the indulgence.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders. Azriel buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “Missed you,” he mumbled.

“I missed you too, Azzy.”

Azriel knew he was growing too reliant on you—could feel his discipline crumbling more each day he got to have you while not quite having you.

You gently pulled your arms back over his shoulders to leverage yourself off his chest, and Azriel loosened his grip around your waist, happy to lazily hold you. He watched you expectantly. You cocked your head to the side, and Azriel copied you, making you laugh.

“Let’s go to bed,” you said. “You already fell asleep.”

Azriel shook his head. “I wasn’t.”

You rolled your eyes, hauling off his lap. “I saw you, Az.”

He stood, letting you pull him to bed. “I saw you,” he murmured. You’d touched his chest the same way then, too. In dream and wake.

You gave a confused laugh, shaking your head, pulling the sheets back with one hand while he held your other. The words marriage bed crossed his mind before he suppressed the thought.

Once you’d both settled in, Azriel reached for your hand beneath the sheets, feeling his drowsiness return. He focused on the sensation of your gentle strokes across his hand. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

“Hm?”

“You said you had to tell me something,” he muttered.

“No, baby, I don’t think I did.”

He wasn’t sure why you’d change your mind so quickly. He knew he was asking too much of you, but he could not bear to pull back. “Can I touch you?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

Azriel snaked his arm beneath your shoulders, hauling you to his chest. “This okay?”

“Yes, honey,” you breathed, eyes closed. “Take whatever you want.”

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Mhm.”

“Now I can’t sleep without you,” he whispered, stroking down your arms.

You only huffed a sleepy laugh.

“Look what you’ve done to me.”

“Sorry, Azzy,” you mumbled. He could feel your soft smile against his collarbones.

Azriel savoured your warmth, pressing you even tighter against him. It was never enough. He always wanted more of you.

You twitched in your sleep, prompting him to soothe down your arms. But instead of settling down, you suddenly pushed your body more firmly against his. Azriel’s mind quieted fully when you extended a leg across his hips. He itched to trace the soft skin of your thighs. But it felt—it was too much, wasn’t it?

You’d told him to take what he wanted—invited him to share your bed each night, but surely, he shouldn’t—

You sighed in your sleep, a pretty sound. But you were suddenly moving again. Tracing a hand up and down his chest. Up to his throat, dragging your fingernails gently down the column, bringing Azriel fully into alertness again.

The leg thrown across his middle stretched further forward as you slowly dragged yourself atop him. He braced his hands on your hips as you seated yourself on his lap Were you—was this—

“Y/N?” he whispered.

“Azriel,” you sighed.

“Yes?” he breathed. He’d take anything you gave. He’d been right about earlier—you’d wanted him.

“I have to tell you something,” you whispered.

Your knees bracketed either side of his waist, pressing your hips more firmly to his own. Balancing your hands on his lower abdomen, Azriel’s breath hitched.

You ground down against him. Once, then stilled. It was enough for Azriel to feel blood coursing where your bodies met. Then, again. A delicate drag of your core against him. He couldn’t help the glide of his hands from your hips to your thighs, where the fabric of your nightgown had exposed them for his pleasure.

He clasped the underside of your thighs, revelled in the movement as you dragged yourself a third time against his growing hardness. Azriel groaned.

You were straddling him perfectly. You fit perfectly. He remained still, watching to see what you’d do next—prayed there’d be a next.

Lust clouded his brain, making it hard to lay still beneath you as you stared down at him. He wanted nothing more than to grind you against him again, to bury himself inside you.

You only stroked your hands up his torso as you bent over him languidly, arching onto his torso to pepper kisses along his jaw. Your breasts pressed firmly against him. When you moved your hips against his again, kissing his neck, he turned to whisper in your ear. “You’ll give me what I want?”

“Yes, Azriel.”

He let himself grind up against you. “Anything I want?”

“Anything,” you breathed. He could hear the smile on your lips. When you made him groan again, you giggled, a wicked sound. You kissed your way to his mouth, but before reaching his lips, you lifted off his chest, returning to your previous straddle. You smiled down at the panting mess you’d made of him. “I wanted to tell you something,” you murmured airily.

Right.

“Tell me, pretty girl,” he rasped, stroking up and down your thighs.

You leaned back down, and against his lips, you whispered. “Azriel.”

“Yes.”

“Azriel.”

“Yes.”

“I want you to make me your bride.”

Azriel wholly stilled.

You only grazed your lips against his. “Make me your bride.”

He couldn’t breathe.

“Azriel.”

Azriel.

“Azriel?”

He blinked.

You’d moved off his lap, still hovering over him, a hand on his chest. The air was suddenly colder, seemingly darker than a moment ago.

How did you get off him so fast?

Too far away.

He was still panting, but you were taking him in with a calmer reception. Azriel sat up to meet you where you were, hands immediately going to your waist, tugging you firmly to his chest. You gasped, bracing your hands against his shoulders.

He kissed the smooth warmth of your neck, felt your pulse quicken beneath his lips.

“Azriel,” you breathed. He only grunted in response. You wanted him, and that was all he wanted. He thoroughly enjoyed the high-pitched tone he put in your voice. “Azzy.”

“Yes.” He kept kissing your neck, making his way to your shoulders, your collarbones.

“Did—did you have another nightmare?”

“No, baby, I didn’t,” he spoke against your skin. Even softer than it was a moment ago. Warmer, somehow. He continued his path, memorizing the hitch in your breath.

“Azzy,” you spoke again, stroking gently down his arms. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.”

You said nothing but didn’t stop your gentle caress down his arms.

“You said I can take what I want,” he ground out.

“Yes, honey, but—”

“I want to give you what you asked for,” he said.

“And what’s that?”

Azriel lifted onto his knees, caging your body. He turned you, guiding you to lay beneath him. You looked so beautiful, hair fanned out on the pillow, staring up at him. “To make you my bride,” he said, voice guttural. He braced his hands on either side of your head, and you widened your legs for him to cushion himself against you.

Again, you said nothing, so he leaned forward.

You quickly rested your hands tenderly against his face, stroking his cheekbones. But when he leaned down to kiss you, you turned your head to the side. He kissed your cheeks, trailing closer to your mouth. “You want to be my bride, pretty girl?”

When he raised his head to look at you, your eyes had fallen shut, brows pinching. Your lips parted as you breathed harder. You were being oddly quiet.

Azriel waited a beat. “Say you want me.”

Your eyes shot open, meeting his gaze again.

“You want to be my bride,” he breathed.

You slowly retracted your hands from his face. He watched your throat work a delicate swallow, your eyes searching his as he waited. “Is that—what I wanted to tell you?” you spoke gently. Not that wicked reverberation.

Azriel stilled.

Oh.

There was—no, there was no way. It’d been so clear.

He’d felt you. Felt how much you wanted him.

God, he was going crazy.

“…yes,” he whispered. It was what you wanted, what he wanted, you’d said it so clearly, he’d been awake, he was sure—

“Azzy,” you spoke again with that devastating gentleness.

“Y/N,” he rasped. He didn’t like the desperate edge in his voice.

“Baby,” you said, that enduring softness both soothing and hurting. He let himself stay where he was, resting on your frame, basking in your softness, knowing it would soon end. You searched his eyes, the restless pleading in them broke your heart.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself. Shit. He’d put his hands on your body, lay between your parted legs. Tried to kiss you.

Asked you to be his bride.

“I’m sorry.” He began moving off you, even as you rose with him. “I didn’t—I just thought—”

“Azzy, it’s okay,” you soothed. He sat on the edge of the bed, and you followed as he exhaled deeply. “Your dreams—it’s not your fault. I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”

Azriel shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”

You cooed, wrapping your arms around his bicep. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll figure it out. I think you just need to rest.” You tugged, trying to pull him back to the pillows.

Azriel met your gaze again. “You still want me here?”

You frowned. “Of course I do.”

He searched your eyes for hesitation. Surely, he should leave, should keep himself from you. But you looked so lovely, beckoning him to sleep. No echoes, no siren mirth. Just honest eyes.

If he were better, if he were saner, he’d get up and leave. Would never risk your comfort—your body—in the state he was in. He was shocked at his inclination to stay.

He rose, let you pull the sheets back for him, and lay beside you. He knew shame would meet him in the daylight. He didn’t even want to think about what he’d revealed to you. He closed his eyes, and when you curled your body against his arm, he let himself savour it with every selfish drop of blood in him.

Perhaps this would be the last night he got this gift. He was perfectly content with not sleeping, lest he miss the feeling of sharing your bed this final time. Lest he fall back into his mania.

Azriel decided he’d choose in the morning whether this could carry on. For now, he’d lay next to you. Restless and haunted.

Baiting love and baiting sanity.

“Azzy, c’mere,” you murmured. You stood with your back to him in an open field, staring at something on the ground. Azriel approached you, took your extended hand to stand beside you.

Before the both of you lay a large square plot in the earth.

A grave.

Azriel turned to face you. Your eyes were cloudy, but you smiled up at him. “Our marriage bed.”

Azriel shot awake.

He’d let his feelings turn into something decaying and poisonous. Still, he didn’t know if he could muster the strength to walk away from you.

He turned in the dimness of the morning to see you and halted.

You were gone.

Dread pooled in his stomach, ice tightened his shoulders.

You’d left.

He shouldn’t be surprised, yet he remained frozen, aching. He let his head fall into his hands.

He’d scared you away. Surely.

He’d…he’d make sure you were okay, and then… that would be it. He’d withdraw.

Azriel got ready haphazardly, scrubbing his face in the sink, throwing on yesterday’s clothing. He raced downstairs, running immediately into Cassian, making him stumble.

“Mother’s tits, Az. What’s the matter?”

“Y/N. Have you seen her?”

Cassian was immediately alert. “Why? Is she alright?”

“She’s fine,” Rhys cut in, emerging from the kitchen.

“Where is she?” Azriel demanded, taking a step towards the High Lord.

Rhys surveyed him, and Azriel didn’t like the placating look on his face. “She went to run an errand. Nothing to worry about.”

“What errand, Rhys?”

Rhys stepped closer and placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. Had you told Rhys what’d happened the night before? “Az, maybe you should… ease up.”

“Ease up?”

“Yeah. Take a breath. She’s okay. I’d never let anything happen to her.”

“You keep hogging her all to yourself, Az,” Cassian joked. “We had to send her away.”

Azriel ignored Cassian’s attempt at lightening the mood. “Why’s she away, Rhys?”

“She needed to do something.”

“And she… asked you for help?” That shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.

“I just happened to be awake,” Rhys said gently.

Azriel was stunned silent for a beat as his brothers took him in.

“C’mon Az. Let’s go work off the stress in the ring. It’s been a while,” Cassian offered. Azriel still held Rhys’s assessing gaze. Like he could see straight into Azriel’s weary soul. He broke his gaze to meet Cassian’s. His brothers must think he was truly losing it.

“Okay, Cass.”

Rhys nodded in approval, satisfied. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Azriel,” you called.

You shifted, bracing yourself on his frame where he lay, somewhere cold and final. Azriel immediately supported you as you put more of your weight on him. He didn’t dare move as you leaned down to kiss his cheeks.

It was dark—you must’ve come to bed. He gently grasped your forearms where they were braced on his chest, lest you slip away again. “Where’ve you been?”

“I left.”

“Why?” his voice faltered.

“You didn’t make me yours,” you murmured.

“But I want to,” he tried rising, but you pushed him back down into the cold beneath.

You met his hazy gaze. “If this is how it’ll be, you’ll only find me in our marriage bed.”

His heart dropped to his stomach. No.

“Yes.

In the companion plot you’d dug to rot in the ground together. “It’s not safe there.”

“Here,” you corrected, kissing his eyelids. Though your eyes were unkind, you only peppered kisses along his jaw. “You don’t listen, Azriel.”

He focused on receiving your affection, ignoring the sharp discomfort inching up his spine. Stone digging into his flesh.

“Azriel. Are you listening?” As you shifted, dirt collected on his legs.

“I am,” he closed his eyes, smelling the musk of the earth.

“Azriel.”

“Yes.”

Azriel.

“Azriel,” you spoke. Gently this time.

Kindly.

He opened his eyes.

You leaned over him not in a tomb but in his bed. It was indeed dark, but there was no finality to be found here. Not when he met your gaze, filled with concern and gentleness. No punishing scowls nor reprimand. No asphyxiation imposed on his ribcage.

“Y/N,” he rose immediately. He’d spent the day searching for you. After sparring, he’d taken off, searched the River House. The city. Asked around for you to no avail.

He’d returned to the House of Wind as the sun set, defeated. He didn’t think sleep would find him in your absence. “I’m sorry,” he began. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just—my dreams, they’ve been—” disturbing. Uncanny— “they—I don’t know when they start, or if I’m awake—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off with the softness in your tone he ached for. You placed a soothing hand on his arm. “After—um, last night, I asked Rhys if I could talk to Madja.”

Oh.

“I know you spent a while having sleepless nights,” you continued. “I thought—maybe the unsettling dreams you’ve been having are a result. So I had Madja make a tonic to help.” You held up a vial full of sloshing liquid.

“A sleeping aid?”

“Not exactly,” you shook your head. “This is to give you dreamless sleep. So you can have an easier time differentiating.”

Azriel was speechless. “Thank you,” he managed.

You nodded, offering a soft smile.

Which meant— “You’re not angry with me?” he asked.

A frown pulled your brows together. “No, love, I’m not angry. I came back to the Town House after Madja finished, but you were gone.”

Oh.

“I—I didn’t know if you—I was looking for you,” he said.

“So was I,” you murmured. “When you didn’t come back to the Town House all day, I asked Mor to winnow me here.” The silence was heavy as you both sat with the clarity. There was much to address. You averted your gaze, crossing your arms.

“What is it?” Azriel asked softly.

You found his eyes with an openness that had him holding his breath. “Last night, you mentioned—you wanted me to, um—”

“It won’t happen again,” he cut in.

You shook your head. “It’s not that, I—Azriel,” you paused, voice softening even further. “You dream of marrying me?”

Azriel was rendered speechless again, but he could do nothing but nod truthfully.

You blushed but uncrossed your arms, peering shyly. “Well. I can’t say I’m entirely opposed to the notion.”

Azriel couldn’t help his smile. His relief. “Yeah?” he spoke softly, itching to reach for you.

You nodded. “I mean we should take it slow, but I’m glad—I’m glad you also—” you gestured back and forth between your bodies. “I—it’s good, Azriel,” you stammered.

He stared intently at you, searching your eyes for doubt. Finding none. He swallowed. “I can do slow.” He’d crawl on shattered glass should you ask, let alone take slow ungratefully.

Your smile deepened, and if it was possible, so did Azriel’s affection for you. You shifted closer to him, reaching for his hand, winding your fingers together. “It’s late, Azzy.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully, happy to let you take the lead.

“Wanna give that tonic a try?” you smiled sweetly.

Azriel chuckled. “Is that taking it slow?”

You laughed. “If you got other things in mind, I won’t object.”

He opened his arms to you, and you smiled, shifting forward, sitting before him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly. Azriel sank back into the headboard, urging you further forward. You broke away to crawl into his lap. Azriel pulled you firmly against him by your thighs, enjoying your gasp against his mouth.

Azriel tried not to let his urgency show, but it was difficult to hold back when you pressed your body so deliciously against him. He’d dreamt of your warmth against him so frequently that this felt familiar rather than uncharted. It felt correct.

So when his hardness pressed against you, he only broke off from your mouth to see what you wanted next with no apologies tumbling from his lips.

You gazed at him, wide-eyed and wanting, but didn’t remove yourself. He forced his hands to settle on your legs despite the need to pull you onto him. You bit your lip apprehensively; with your grip on his shoulders, you dragged your core against his. Azriel’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head, his head falling back against the headboard in relief.

You seized the opportunity, bending forward to kiss his jaw. He gripped your hips, guiding your movement against him, relishing the gasp you let out in your shared pleasure.

He began pulling at the laces of your gown, helping you out of it. You paused only to bare yourself, and he followed suit, tugging off his shirt.

He wanted to taste you, to mark you, to sink inside you and have his way with you. When you returned to his lap in only your skin, he didn’t know where to begin.

Azriel traced down your front, kneading your breasts, drawing more of your pretty moans, making him dizzy with need. He’d take his time another time, he decided, needing to be inside you. Needing you to be ready for that. His hands wandered down the softness of your torso, and you leaned back in his lap to watch as one of his hands braced itself on your thigh, holding it further open, the other touching you where you needed it.

You shuddered, thighs instinctively shifting to close, but he resisted. He stroked up and down your folds, spreading your slick. When he continued his teasing, you impatiently grasped his wrist, setting him where you wanted. He thumbed at your clit, massaging circles into it, causing your back to arch.

His touch was gentle but skilled, pulling an orgasm from you before you could truly sit with the pleasure. Your legs shook, chest heaving, but before you could worry about the haste of it, Azriel was unbuckling his pants, freeing himself.

Through the haze of your pleasure, your jaw fell slack at the size of him. You met his gaze, nervous suddenly. He only gauged you. “You can do it,” he rasped.

You swallowed, nodding. He seemed inclined to sit back and watch you take him, making no move to rise. Perhaps this was his way of making it less intimidating, you thought.

Azriel’s intentions were in fact less benevolent. With you finally at his mercy, falling apart in his lap and baring yourself to him after all his wanting and waiting, he was suddenly overcome with the need to feel the labour of this coupling. Not in the carnal sense—beyond the pleasure, he needed this to be stamped into your body.

He loved you, but right now he wanted you to work for your pleasure like you’d made him work for his devotion, his sanity. His patience and worry. That you asked Rhys for help this morning instead of him. That you made him lose his grip on his control so viscerally.

So he said, “Take what you want.”

You rose on shaky legs, hands braced sweetly on his shoulders as you guided yourself closer to him, legs spread on either side of his hips. You reached down, lining him up and began sinking.

At the immediate pinch between your brows, Azriel knew it hurt you, that the stretch was difficult. Yet you were trying to take it for him. You were so tight around him, so snug it had him heaving. “Good girl,” he muttered and felt you sink a little easier at that. You whimpered.

When you were halfway down on him, you paused, panting softly, meeting his gaze. The innocent pleading in them had Azriel nearly breaking his resolve. He thumbed at your clit again, moving his grip from your thighs to your hips to ease you down. When you finally sank all the way, you were shaking enough for Azriel to let up, to lean forward and kiss you. He was struggling to remain still in the wake of your vice grip, to keep himself from fucking you, but he knew you needed the reprieve.

He kissed you for as long as you needed, continued to massage pleasure back into you as you adjusted in his lap. When you finally relaxed against him, he sat back against the headboard to watch you move. With your hands still on his shoulders, you began hauling yourself up and down onto him, wincing each time he bottomed out. You felt so good around him that he could barely breathe.

You still struggled to ride him. The sheer size of him making it difficult to rise fully, and your legs were close to giving out. “Azzy,” you whimpered, pouting at him terribly.

Oh.

His sweet, lovely girl. “Aww,” he couldn’t help but coo. He frowned in disbelief at his own cruelty, making you take him all on your own like that. “I’m sorry, angel.” He gripped your thighs around your ass, taking over. You gasped as he began guiding your body up and down his length with an ease that stole your breath again. He hauled you up and let you sink down at a relaxed pace, seeing how closely you teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. “So good for me, right baby?”

“Mhm,” your eyes were falling shut, the pleasure drawing your brows together in a concentrated pinch as you let him fuck you onto him. You relaxed further into his hold, winding your hips forward and back, and he began moving faster.

One of his hands shifted to your throat, gripping it gently but firmly, making your eyes flash to his. “Say you’re mine,” he spoke lowly.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist lovingly. “I’m yours, Azzy.” He could tell you were close again from the breathy pitch.

“My bride,” he corrected.

You gasped, shifting forward as he hit a spot deep inside that had your rhythm stuttering. “Your bride,” you panted.

“That’s fucking right,” he said, shifting forward so you fell back into the bed. With your legs open, he returned his grip to your throat and plunged inside you again, making you moan. He fucked you more firmly despite the slide of your tight entrance making it nearly difficult. You gripped his wrist with both your hands now, and when your nails dug into his skin, he knew you’d fall apart.

You gasped, mouth agape and soundless as you shuddered through your climax, clamping your legs around his tightly until they fell open again as the pleasure coiled and released. He pulled out to give you a moment to catch your breath, knowing he was being rough.

Though every bone in his body ached to cover you like a shadow, to press his skin on yours and only let up when you needed to breathe, to kiss you and show you he loved you, he rose to witness the sight of you.

Bare and spread for him.

If not for the threat of potentially scaring you off, he’d have tied your wrists to each bedpost and kept you here. All his for all time. To claim and fuck as he pleased.

You were breathing hard, shifting restlessly on the bed, waiting for him to bury himself in you. It seemed you and Azriel kept returning to the act of burial, whether earthly or bodily.

“Azriel,” you breathed, grounding him. He grasped your knees where they lay on either side of him and gently plied them further apart, bending them up to allow him to look at your swollen sex. You blushed when you realized what he was doing, turning to bury your head in the pillow, but Azriel couldn’t tear his eyes away, admiring the gleam. What he did to your body. Your slick was spilling out of you. He ran his fingers through it. You flinched, still sensitive from release, but he didn’t let up, pushing his fingers into you—just needing to feel you. Your thighs shook as he did.

Azriel was harder than marble and needed to be inside you again.

He lined himself up, and before you had the chance to truly catch your breath, he was plunging again. You gasped, hands finding his chest. Azriel pushed inside, relishing the tight fit. He leaned over you, snaking his arms beneath your back. He rested his weight on his forearms where they pressed between your body and the mattress. His hands found their place on your shoulders, gripping them tightly from beneath. The position allowed him to use your frame to haul you onto his length as he pleased.

He fucked you harder than before, and there was nothing you could do but take it, mouth gaping and brows pinching at the overwhelming control he held. At the ecstasy he thrust into your body that made your head spin. At the utter power contained in his body, the ease with which he moved over you and inside you. You were encompassed by the mass of him, all corded muscles pressing into your torso and thick arms beneath you. You gripped his neck, scratching his skin, listening to the sharp slap of his hips against yours.

He was in your womb, so deep that there was a bite of pain with each thrust, but it was him and you wanted every part of him. The pleasure was so overwhelming that you stopped breathing, body tense as you tried to acclimate to it once again. Azriel rested his forehead on yours, lips brushing against yours. Not kissing you, just breathing against your mouth. You let out a choked whimper. “That’s it,” he growled. “Good girl. You can take it.” You heaved air into your lungs again, surrendering to the hold he had on you, physically and whatever tugged you to him beyond. Surrendered to the pleasure, no longer resisting it even as it stunned every nerve ending.

You relaxed, rode the waves, drowned in them. “Good fucking girl,” he breathed again, feeling the shift to pliability in your body. On a baser level, he understood that you were yielding to him. You were safe with him, and you were his. The urgency in his thrusts calmed, but he shifted his hold, and wrapped his arms around your waist, slotting himself against you. He buried his face in your neck, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

Still soft in his arms, still taking him.

He felt his release cresting but didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want this to end. Your thighs were shaking around his waist. “I’m coming inside you,” he breathed into your hair, making you whimper again.

“Please, please,” you panted. He knew you were nearing your release as well, knew you likely couldn’t take more given how thorough he’d been with you. Azriel reverted to hurried movements, memorizing how he dragged against your walls. How warm and tight you were, still clamping down on him like iron, impossibly tighter as he dragged you closer. Your breathing halted again as release tore through you. You cried out, writhing against him.

The pulsating suction of your climax massaged him inside you, making him shudder. He plunged himself into you, putting all his weight into it, fucking you so deep into the mattress as your tightness crested his pleasure.

He finally stopped moving, releasing his seed deep inside you. It was the longest and hardest he’d ever come, leaving him shaking above you, panting.

You soothed shaky hands down his back, and Azriel finally eased his weight off you. Remaining buried inside you, he shifted his arms to bracket your frame, raising to look at you.

Beneath him, your eyes were droopy but bright as you watched him back. That he found sincere trust in them, that there was softness after all he’d done to you only made his chest ache. You truly did give yourself to him. “I—I don’t want to pull out,” he admitted lowly, voice hoarse.

You stroked his cheeks, hands still unsteady. “Then don’t,” you whispered. Azriel snuck an arm beneath your waist again, this time guiding you to lay on top of him as he turned to rest on his back, careful to keep himself tucked inside you. You gasped, sensitive and overstimulated, but took it patiently as he settled himself into the bed, settlling yourself against his chest. He stroked down your form against him, soothed the tremors in your arms and legs.

Whatever part of him existed before that could bear to be without you was dead. Perhaps this is the burial he’d been haunted by night after night. His immortality rebirthed with his consummated bride. He pulled the sheets over your bodies, kissing the crown of your head.

He’d learn to be with you less intensely, to want you more sanely. But not tonight—tonight, he was finally going to rest in peace, buried with you, buried inside you.

His bride in your marriage bed.

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illyrianbitch · 4 months

Text

Beneath the Ashes of Our Broken Oaths

Pairing: Morrigan's Sister!Reader x Azriel

Summary: After abandoning the refuge of Velaris, you, Morrigan’s twin sister, returned to the forsaken Hewn City fueled by a vision for a better future. Now, your estranged family seeks your help when rumors of rebellion spread at a time of utmost inconvenience. Torn between your anger and a desire to protect the good, you begrudgingly agree and are forced to face memories of a past life and the unsettling presence of Azriel– the first man you ever loved.

Warnings: ANGST, Helion being compassionate and its sexy, Inner Circle slander (sorry feyre baby), Y/N is kind of a bitch (but its warranted and a slay), family trauma.

Word Count: 2.9k

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was Helion, the High Lord of Day, who had seen the flicker of hope in your eyes. A man of discerning wisdom, he recognized your yearnings of a better world. He knew you, he knew your heart, and he trusted your vision— with the promise of your support shall he need it. You knew that your support, in the grand scheme of things, meant nothing to Helion. He had always held a heart of gold, of understanding, and he would have helped you without anything in return. But you had insisted, declared that you needed to give him something to thank him. Your support, he had agreed on. It was all you had left, anyway.

Now, you stood before him, pleading. Your chest was tight and a calm panic filled your veins. You needed to act. You needed to keep things in place.

"Helion, please," your voice, normally composed, now carried a tremor, a plea that hung in the air, reeking of desperation. Low light poured through stained glass windows as the sun slowly set, painting a kaleidoscope of muted colors on the marble floors.

His eyes, usually filled with warmth, held a regretful sympathy.

"Y/N, I wish I could," He replied, his voice caressing the air, "But with the current state of affairs and your father’s growing paranoia, it's too risky. I can't jeopardize my people. My help is needed elsewhere."

Approaching you, he extended a large hand, gently cupping your chin, his touch reassuring and pained. "Give me some time, sweetheart."

Desperation deepened in your eyes, and the intensity of your plea swelled. Aching with fear and worry, your gaze remained locked on his. "I don’t have time. Hewn City corrupts swiftly. You know this.”

Helion sighed, a sound filled with a blend of both compassion and helplessness. "Perhaps you should reach out to Rhysand. His influence might help, now more than ever."

Yor felt a bitterness surface, like bile rising through your throat. A soft scoff left your mouth as you roughly pulled Helion’s hand away from your chin, withdrawing from his touch in offense. "Rhys had a chance to help. He didn’t. He couldn’t care less. I won’t go crawling to him."

Helion's gaze softened, a tender response to your rough tone. He let out a sigh and pulled you close to him once more. His touch sent a wave of comfort through you, something that happened often when you visited him to discuss these things. Helion was a man who loved physical connection— you didn’t mind it. It made you feel seen, understood. Now, you craved that feeling more than ever.

"I don’t understand this contempt you hold. Surely they will want to help you. They miss you."

You rolled your eyes at this. Of course Helion would think so. As much as you trusted him and his admiration for you, he always did love your family. Your sister and your cousin would always be in your life, tied to you in one way or another. Frustration tinged your voice.

"It's too late. Going to Rhysand now would draw unwanted attention or, worse, he’d halt my efforts because of some perceived danger."

There was a moment of silence, and your eyes bounced around the room, searching for somewhere to land that wasn’t Helion's burning gaze. Once more, he moved a hand to gently cradle your face.

"You cannot foresee every outcome. You're not a mind reader, Y/N."

A bitter laugh escaped you, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "I might as well be when it comes to family."

"You've accomplished so much. Allow yourself a reprieve. You can't bear the weight of the innocents lives in Hewn City alone."

You blinked away the tears that welled in your eyes as you admitted, "I can't afford to stop. If I do, they'll think I've given up."

"No," Helion asserted, his voice unwavering. "Your dedication is commendable, but you need to care for yourself. Let me help you."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at him, his brows furrowed slightly and a sad smile on his face. He moved his hand once more, gently tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. Then, he ran a finger along it, a soft caress carried by a weight of understanding. You shuddered at the lightness of his touch.

"Stay, Y/N,” He suggested, his voice smooth and low, “Let me be a distraction. You take care of others; let someone take care of you."

You leaned slightly into his caress, feeling the warmth radiating from his hand. A fleeting sense of comfort teased at the edges of your weary soul. Yet, reality swiftly reasserted its grasp, and you gently withdrew, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"I appreciate the offer," you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. Your hand delicately intercepted his, guiding it away from your cheek. "But I can't afford the luxury of distraction right now."

He acknowledged your decision with a small nod.

“I wish I could do more for you."

A tender smile found its way to your lips and you held his gaze for a fleeting moment of gratitude.

“I know.” You replied before you winnowed away, leaving the luminous embrace of the Day Court behind.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were on edge. You had been for the last few weeks. Now, after failing to convince Helion, you could feel it catching up to you, a dark hole forming in the pit of your stomach. It felt like you were being swallowed alive, eaten by your own anxieties and fear. But you didn’t have time for this. You couldn’t risk falling apart, becoming vulnerable. No, not at a time like this.

You had mastered the art of drowning your thoughts, of discarding the weight that threatened to pull you under. Tonight would be no different. The impending storm would be weathered, as it always had been. You would begin to drink your worries away, give them time to manifest, and then shove them away into the crawlspace of your mind, free to collect dust and rot away.

You moved toward a small table where a simple platter of dark amber liquid awaited. Your fingers tightened around a small crystal glass as you poured. As the first sip touched your lips, you felt the familiar burn, a welcomed distraction. The amber liquid offered solace, if only for a fleeting moment.

And then, you stilled. The creak of the floorboards behind you announced their presence, and you felt it—a pricking at the base of your neck, the subtle disturbance of the air as someone entered, no, appeared. Your body tensed instinctively, shoulders rigid, as you ceased your movements. You took a moment to compose yourself, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply-- a futile attempt to ground yourself.

You downed the drink, the warmth spreading through your veins, and set your glass down, a definitive thud echoing in the silence as it met the table. You turned around slowly, the ever-present undercurrent of anxiety beneath your skin momentarily masked by a face of composure. The simple décor of your home surrounded you—the tattered tapestries, broken furniture—all a testament to a life you had built in the aftermath of your return. One that lacked the color that you once held.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Your voice, laced with both mockery and a hint of something darker, hung in the air.

In front of you, Rhysand stood tall and proud, a figure of authority. His eyes, once familiar and comforting, now held a look determination. His gaze held yours strongly, and for a swift moment, you saw them soften. But the tenderness quickly dissipated, his eyes narrowing with a slight tilt of his head. You ran your eyes along his face, then down his form, taking in the detailed and intricate patterns of his clothing— an embodiment of Night Court royalty. Then, you looked at him again, your jaw clenching. It had been a while since you looked into his eyes, a violet color deeply embedded into your mind. For a moment, his presence consumed your thoughts, distracting you from the other man that you felt in your home.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark figure stepping out from the corners of your room. A darkness licked at your skin.

"Hello, Azriel," you acknowledged him, your eyes remaining fixed on Rhysand.

Azriel's presence was a dark whisper. The edges of your room seemed to blur with shadows as he stood there, a silent observer.

"I’ve come to request your help," Rhysand's voice cut through the stillness, his words carrying the weight of urgency.

Your response was swift, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, that's rich."

The corners of the room seemed to darken further as Rhysand's frustration manifested in the clenching of his jaw. The subtle play of shadows accentuated the lines on his face, revealing the strain of a desperate plea.

"Please hear me out."

You shook your head. They shouldn’t be here. This was risky, dangerous. You needed them to leave. They needed to disappear, to let you go and never find you again. That was the only way you would be able to survive.

But every fiber in your being was screaming to do the opposite, to embrace your cousin and explain to him, tell him everything. You wanted to get on your knees and beg for the kindness he always showed you, to ask him about your sister. For him to tell you about his life, his love, his child. But you couldn’t. And from inside you, your heart tugged you to Azriel, his stoic form. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to catch his gaze. It was all so wrong. This disconnect, this anger you felt for them, for your situation, for yourself… it was eating you up. But this wasn't the time. So you pulled your thoughts together and focused on the one thing that had never let you down: your fire.

You reminded yourself of the resentment you held, deep down. Reminded yourself of how they had failed you, separated themselves from you, your vision, and the suffering of the good people here, in Hewn City— your city. Rhysand's city.

Ignoring his original words, you looked at Rhysand with the hint of a wicked grin on your face.

"Where’s your child bride? I heard she’s reading at the same level as your babe. You must be overjoyed."

Rhysand's expression tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface. The mention of his mate touched a clear nerve, and for a brief moment, you reveled in the discomfort you had caused. It was a twisted satisfaction, a way to regain some sliver of control in this unexpected encounter.

His temper flared, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability replaced by a presence of anger that you knew all too well. He bit down on his frustration, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure. But you pressed on.

“I’m only kidding, take a joke, Rhysand. 500 years and you still have the emotional regulation of a teenager. Nice to see some things don’t change."

Rhysand's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and confusion, observing you and your wall of icy nonchalance. His name sounded foreign on your lips, spoken with such malice and distaste. Even the last time he had seen you, during a bloody war against Hybern, you had not been so venomous. This was a fact you both thought of as you stood here, now, in front of one another again. You moved gracefully through the room, ignoring their presence, and opened a small box that sat on your table. The delicate aroma of sugar wafted through the air. You took a seat.

Azriel and Rhysand exchanged glances. Your fingers idly played with the box, an ornate creation that held delicate, candied treats. With an almost casual indifference, you brought one of the sweet confections to your mouth, savoring the taste as if the weight of their presence meant nothing to you. You could feel the tension building in the atmosphere, heightened by their growing sense of agitation and frustration. It radiated off of them like heat. You welcomed it with open arms, like a freezing child in the cold.

"These are the loveliest desserts,” You explained, bringing the candy close to your face with an examining eye, “Hard to come across here. But I know a guy.”

“Want one?" you offered, dropping your candy back into the box and extending it toward Azriel, whose stoic expression remained unchanged.

"What? Doggy can’t take a treat?" You taunted with a measured smile. You didn’t miss the slight flare of his nostrils, or the way his shadows began to snake up his arms, angry and riled up.

A tense silence lingered as Azriel remained perfectly unmoving, his eyes holding a depth of attentiveness that made you uncomfortable. But the discomfort within you sought distraction, and you continued with your mockery. You waved your hands in the air as a dismissal.

"Bah, you guys are no fun."

The room felt charged as you baited them, your attempts to deflect the gravity of their visit becoming slowly evident in every casual gesture.

Rhysand's frustration reached a boiling point, and he took a step forward, shifting the conversation.

"We didn't come here for sweets and jests. We came for you."

You chuckled, a sound that held a bitter edge. "Me? You must be desperate, Rhysand."

A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes, swiftly replaced by a steely resolve. "There are rumors of rebellion here,” He took a pause, glancing around the room as if he was contemplating continuing. He spoke again, “But, I'm dealing with a larger threat that has me on the defense. I cannot afford an uprising."

Your laughter cut through the air like a blade. "Is the idea of civil unrest among your people an inconvenience? My, what an issue, must be terrible."

Rhysand's patience waned, his features hardening. "Stop this, Y/N. We need your help to prevent a disaster."

You leaned back against your furniture, your eyes narrowing as you regarded him with a chilling indifference. "I've heard nothing about any unrest. You've wasted a trip."

Rhysand's gaze bore into yours, an unspoken challenge. "Azriel has been in Hewn City, gathering information. He's heard the rumors. I know you're lying."

In that moment, a silent battle waged within you. The desire to help, to make a difference, warred against the fear of exposing yourself to the dangers lurking beyond your sanctuary. The memories of the past, the reasons you returned, echoed in your mind. You wanted to help, but you knew their presence could unravel the delicate life you had crafted.

Rhysand's voice softened, a genuine plea beneath the layers of frustration. "Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?"

Then, his eyes softened, sensing a crack in your facade. Inner turmoil clouded your eyes as you locked gazes with him. The conflict within you played out in the subtle tremor of your fingers, a telltale sign of something bubbling beneath your icy exterior. But as quickly as it manifested, you shut it down, fast enough to resolve Rhys of his attentive eyes. He swallowed and fixed his composure.

"Azriel has gained information that it's not just a rise against me. There are whispers of a rebellion against Keir himself. I need you to listen for information from your father."

Your father. A wave of nausea rippled throughout your body and you clenched your jaw in response. The title sounded strange coming from Rhysand, a stark reminder of your place here, of your place in his family. No, no. You thought. I will not let them see me falter.

Rhysand continued, "Azriel has gathered intelligence, but we need someone on the inside. We need you."

A cynical smile now played on your lips as you taunted them, "Maybe it's time for a change. The mighty High Lord struggling to keep control – how novel."

Azriel, who had maintained a cold silence until now, spoke up for the first time, taking a heavy step forward towards where you sat.

"We both know you do not mean that."

You turned your gaze to him, eyes dark. "And what do you know about what I mean, Azriel? You don't know anything about me."

Rhysand put a hand out in front of Azriel’s form, biting back his retort. The room hung heavy as you finally declared, "You've overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."

Rhysand's eyes met yours with a determined glint.

"I will be back. Family does not give up."

His words pulled out a surge of anger bubbling within you. Family? Without a second thought, you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. "Family, huh?" Your voice dripped with bitterness, and you moved toward him, anger etched on your face.

But before you could reach him, Rhysand winnowed away with a controlled fury, leaving Azriel lingering.

Azriel stood still, his eyes slightly narrowed, his brows furrowed at you. You met his gaze and felt a wave of guilt through your body, filling the hole where your fury once was a second before. If you didn’t know any better, it seemed as if Azriel was….. Disappointed? Hurt? But you stabilized yourself, pushing the observation away. Your anger, raw and unfiltered, had an intensity that took even him by surprise. He held your gaze. Then, like a wisp of darkness, he too disappeared, leaving you alone with the remnants of unresolved tension and the taste of bittersweet candied treats lingering in the air.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

a/n: hello hello!! welcome to my lil new fic!! im new here and i have no idea what im doing but i hope at least one person enjoys what has become my creative fictional baby. when i tell you this story has a place in my HEART....y/n here is multilayered and complex and flawed but that is why i love her!! serving cunt 24/7!!!

tumblr scares me so any feedback is so very loved and any advice is great too!! mwuah

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assassinsblade · 4 months

Text

Forget Me Not | 3

Azriel and you try to navigate life around each other after his mistake.

WC: 5.3k

Warnings: TW: SA!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Blood, injury, death, angst, feelings, nightmares.

a/n: Reader is sorting through her emotions so don’t give her too much shit for not being mean YET. Don’t think Azriel is done suffering. He’s got some stuff coming to him in part 4…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

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

Azriel’s presence was like the sun radiating onto your skin. You felt warm, but you didn’t know if it was because of the deep longing you didn’t think you could ever get rid of, or because you felt so out of place. His warmth had the potential to comfort you but also to burn you, and after all that had happened, you found yourself expecting the latter.

Things had changed so quickly. Days ago, you were giddy as you approached the male nearby, excited to talk about new books you had read, your interest in continuing your training, a sweets store you had heard about in Velaris.

And Azriel had always been sweet. He would listen to you and make suggestions of his own. He would take an interest in whatever you were passionate about that day, and he always went out of his way to make sure you were comfortable.

Unless Elain was there.

It was if her existence hypnotized the shadowsinger, trapping his attention onto her only. And maybe you could have lived with the scraps you got from him each day, if it wasn’t for how easily he left you behind.

The room was so uncomfortable, so anxiety-inducing, that you began to shiver under your robe. You crossed your arms over yourself to mimic some kind of warmth and comfort, knowing you shouldn’t attempt to receive any from him.

You could hear the clanging of ceramic and metal in the kitchen. The splashing of boiling water into a glass, the stirring of honey into the herbal tea, the clanking of the spoon on the mug. Azriel was always quiet. But he seemed to be making an effort to let you know exactly what he was doing at each point in time.

When he finally grasped the mug into two large palms and turned toward the table, you made sure to keep your head down.

You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat. If he could hear how it still betrayed you after everything, somehow still reaching out to him, speeding up in his presence as if getting ready to overflow with love for him. That made you hate yourself a little bit more.

His movements were careful as he slid the mug in front of you, slowly taking a seat on the other side of the table. You didn’t say anything as your fingers hesitantly found the steaming drink, allowing its temperature to ease the shaking in your bones.

He was watching you, you could feel it. You so badly wanted to know what was going through his mind, but you also couldn’t find it in yourself to speak to him. He had hurt you so incredibly bad.

If he hadn’t left without you, you would never have faced that male on your way home. You would never have to see his dead eyes staring back at you every time you blinked, feel the blood coating your fingers every time you moved them, smell his arousal when you crossed your legs or touched your neck.

And even if that male hadn’t been there, Azriel had forgotten you. You obviously didn’t take up enough of his mind for him to spare you the briefest thought. Meanwhile, all you ever thought about was him.

You felt like such a fool.

He swallowed harshly, wetting his lips before opening his mouth to say something.

You couldn't do this. You didn't want to hear this.

You quickly got to your feet, the hot tea spilling a bit onto your fingers in your haste. You winced, quickly wiping the liquid onto your robe and trying not to think of the same hot substance that had coated the same area only two days ago.

It was so warm, so thick, and it dripped down your fingers, down your neck.

Breathe.

Your chest rose and fell in sporadic breaths, and you stumbled a step back to get some distance.

Azriel always had a way of disarming you, both physically and emotionally. But you were too overwhelmed right now, unable to process everything that had happened to you in that alleyway, let alone what had happened with your friend.

Shakily, you breathed out, "I'm going to the other room - to the library."

He nodded, following every movement you made. His soft eyes tracked your breaths, your shaking, the way your wet fingertips wiped against your robe.

"I could join you-“

“No.”

He winced. The word had come so forcefully out of your mouth, you barely had time to think about it. And now you could almost see the hurt weaving through his chest, the way his breathing had hitched and caused him to still.

“I just… I’d like to read for a bit. Thank you, though.”

Then your feet were moving, tea forgotten on the table. You just had to make it to the door and then you could breathe.

"I'm sorry."

Azriel's voice floated through the air behind you, but it almost didn't sound like him. Not like the immovable spymaster you had come to know. Never had he sounded weak before... not until now.

You froze, back still turned to him, unsure if you could look at him for this. You could hear his feet shuffling, as if he were now standing and trying to control himself and stay put.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, voice breaking.

You swallowed down your own tears, the emotions clogging your airway.

"I thought you were coming for me, you know. When I was being attacked. I really thought you'd come."

A sound of anguish slipped passed his lips, but you couldn't stay to listen. You forced yourself to move forward, to take each step with strength until you could make it to the sanctuary of the library. And once you made it there, you clicked the door shut gently, breathing deeply as you sat down on the couch and collapsed into yourself.

This routine went on for days.

A shadow was always near you, monitoring your movements, your reactions, and your emotions. At first it bothered you, but after a day or two, you began to take comfort in the little thing. It was reassuring knowing something was watching over you, especially when your mind kept convincing your body you were in danger.

Your anxiety was at an all-time high, a brief image of that night sending your body into fight-or-flight before you could gain control of your mind and where you were at.

Most nights you stayed awake staring at the wall rather than sleeping. Every time you closed your eyes you felt muscle ripping underneath your fingertips and blood coating your hands. So you instead laid in silence, occasionally having a one-sided conversation with the shadow in the corner of your room.

Some of the inner circle had come to see you, although you knew Rhys was sending them over slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you.

Mor had come the day following your first interaction with Azriel. She had apologized profusely, despite the fact she hadn't technically done anything wrong. Then, she attempted to take your mind off things. She had brought snacks and gossip, and she had even tried to tell you an embarrassing story of Rhys she swore he would kill her for sharing.

You could only listen to half of what she was saying before your mind would wander, though. Before your body began to feel separate from you, as if it had been taken that night and was no longer your own. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin at times, and the feeling would come out of nowhere. It made you want to itch at the flesh, scratch it until it revealed your former self underneath, clean and untouched.

Cassian had invited you back to training whenever you wished to join. He said the Valkyries would be happy to have you, but he did offer to take up your private lessons again as well.

You told him you'd think about it.

You had seen Nesta around the house only once when you had come out for dinner. She had given you a small smile as you sat down at the table and took it upon herself to control the conversation between herself, Cassian, and Azriel.

Azriel hadn't spoken much that night, only giving a nod or a hum when addressed. Sometimes you felt him looking at you, but other times you felt him unable to meet your gaze as well.

You had trouble doing the same.

You wanted to see his hazel eyes, as much as you hated yourself for it. You wanted to hit him and curse him for leaving you that night, for not thinking about you as much as you thought about him. You wanted to scream and rage at what you had gone through, to allow the fire burning inside of your chest to catch fire to your skin and disintegrate your past and your feelings for him.

Instead, you kept quiet, and you kept to yourself.

You knew that your friends were worried. You saw the glances Cassian sent your way, felt the gentle caress on your mind when Rhys wanted to check in. But you couldn't find it in yourself to pretend like you were fine. You weren't. You couldn't sleep, you could barely keep food down, and you felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.

It wasn't until four days later that you were finally able to fall asleep, the sleepless nights catching up to you and pulling you down into the dark depths of your mind.

And you really wished you had been able to keep your eyes open, because as soon as you fell under, hazel eyes filled your subconscious.

He was just as beautiful in your dreams as he was in real life. Sharp cheekbones, bright eyes, a soft smile that always looked like he was amused or trying not to laugh. His hair somehow looked like it was both styled and like he had rolled out of bed, running his hands through it a few times. And his stance, the way he towered over you in your dream was so like his lively physical presence that it made you step closer to him.

You felt safe, you felt-

"Elain's here," Dream Azriel spoke. You looked up from his chest to see him gazing over your shoulder toward the front door of Rita's, at the lovely doe-eyed female making her way into the crowded room.

You could only watch as her brown eyes met Azriel's hazel ones, how they both melted at the sight of one another. His scarred hands found yours - hands you found so much comfort in - and they pulled your own from his chest, moving past you and toward Elain.

His back was to you again. He looked relaxed, at peace, happy.

And then you blinked.

In a second he was gone, the beautiful high fae with him.

A pit formed in your stomach.

Another blink.

A cold alleyway, your head hitting stone.

Blink.

Tearing clothes, too soft-fingertips.

Blink.

A sharp pain, flowing red, dead eyes.

"What a lucky male I was to run into you..."

You jolted in bed, your eyes snapping open, chest heaving in breaths. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

Gods, you couldn't escape it, couldn't escape the blood on your fingers or the cracking in your chest. You couldn't breathe, you were choking on your own tears, you were going to suffocate-

You hastily threw the blankets from your bed, stumbling up and onto the wooden floor. Your feet slipped underneath you, your whole body coated in a thin sheen of sweat, but you kept moving until you were pushing the door open clumsily. Chest tight, breaths short, you moved erratically through the hall.

Your teeth were chattering, your sweat-soaked skin freezing your body and causing goosebumps to form. Your thin nightgown did little to provide any warmth.

You found yourself outside of Cassian's door, wanting needing someone to help. Needing to know someone was there to protect you from your own mind, from the memories that plagued you. Needing a steady presence, anything-

But you couldn't possibly knock. He was in there with his mate, for gods sakes. That would be so inappropriate, you couldn't...

Gods, you really couldn't breathe. Your chest was caving in, you were sure of it. Feet stumbled backward away from the door, leaning your back up against the wall.

Eyes squeezed shut, hand pressed to your chest, you hear, "Breathe."

His voice made more tears fall from the corner of your eyes, a harsh gasp sounding from your throat as some air was sucked into your lungs.

Gods, you missed him. You missed him so much. You hated it, you hated him. Make it stop.

"Shhh," he soothed you, scarred fingers brushing your hair back from your face before his palms gently cupped your cheeks. "Breathe, sweetheart."

You forced your eyes open and met his hazel ones. Filled with concern, they guided you through his directions. In. Out. A hand placed by his own onto his chest. In. Out.

He nodded. He encouraged.

"That's it," he whispered. "Just like that."

You shook your head, your breaths turning into sobs. "Azriel-" you choked out.

And then his arms were around you, holding you against his chest. His large form engulfed your own, and you could feel the muscles of his biceps, smell the clean fabric of his black shirt, hear his steady heartbeat underneath your ear.

His hand stroked through your hair, but his arms stayed tight around you, as if he was just as terrified in that moment.

"You're okay," he reassured. "You're in the House of Wind. You are surrounded by Cassian, Nesta, and myself. You are safe."

The sounds you let out were indescribable, and you knew you'd be embarrassed in the morning, no doubt having awoken the two mates behind the door across from you.

"Shhh," he soothed again. "I've got you."

No, no, no. You shook your head. He shouldn't be comforting you. He shouldn't be making you feel better.

But he was. Stupid, stupid girl.

He pulled back slowly, using both hands to cup the sides of your face once again, pushing back the hair wet with tears. He bent down, attempting to make himself smaller so he could directly search your puffy eyes.

Thumbs swiped across your damp cheeks and your eyes fluttered closed involuntarily.

You loved him. You loved him so much, how could he have done this to you-

"Do you want me to get Cassian?" He asked softly. There was no judgement in the question, only a willingness to help. He had to have seen you contemplating knocking on the door, much to your embarrassment.

You shook your head, still regaining your breath.

He was silent for a moment, his hands still moving in your hair, stroking your cheeks.

"Do you want me to stay with you? Until you fall asleep?"

For some reason the question brought more tears to your eyes, and you looked down, away from the kindness flowing through his own.

You did, but you didn't. You had always felt safer with Azriel around, from the very moment you met him. But that might have changed. Did you trust him to keep you safe now? To truly see you when you needed him?

But wasn't that what he was doing now? Seeing you? Helping you?

What if Elain showed up, what if-

"I can stay in that one chair if you want. Or lay on the floor?" His voice was as gentle as his touch.

You broke. Your body still shaking with fear and anxiety, you knew you could hate yourself tomorrow, but tonight you needed him. And you needed him to stay this time, not to leave you alone.

You told yourself it didn't matter, because you just needed someone to be present with you, not necessarily him.

You nodded, and Azriel tracked the movement with his eyes before letting out a soft "okay" in confirmation.

No judgement. No expectation.

His hand was light on your waist as he led you back to your room, tightening only once to help as you stumbled.

Then he was guiding you to your bed, pulling the covers over your body still shaking with trepidation and the cold. He moved briefly to the windows, ensuring that they were locked before pulling the curtains closed and making his way to the chair tucked into the corner of your room. He pulled it slightly out, enough to be close to you but not enough to make you uncomfortable, and settled into it.

It took him a moment to get comfortable. Once he was still, however, he let a few of his shadows go and they swarmed around you, weaving through your hair and across the skin of your face in a gentle caress that helped to ease some of your trembling.

"Sleep," Azriel spoke quietly. "I'll be here."

You didn't have to voice your doubts to him. The room filled with tension at his words, at the obvious contradiction they posed to the other night when he had not, in fact, been there.

"I'm not leaving," he said to the unspoken thoughts. His voice was firm, confident, even if a tad sorrowful.

You only turned on your side and closed your eyes.

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

A small bang against your door woke you. It was disorienting, waking after finally getting a good night's rest. But that didn't stop yourself from turning your head toward the muffled noises in your doorway.

The wood shielded who was on the other side, but you heard them clear enough, the words sounding slightly jumbled or as if they were spoken from underwater.

"You best be careful, Az."

Cassian. And he didn't sound happy.

"What are you implying, brother?"

Azriel's voice was tight, as if he was balancing precariously and one push would send him over the edge. But you knew Azriel, and he wanted to be pushed, was welcoming of the freedom to let go of what he normally controlled so tightly.

You wondered how long they had been talking to get to this point of tension.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm telling you that you've always been selfish when it comes to females. If you are giving your care and attention to her as a way of making her feel better, that is fine, but if you are doing it for yourself-"

"Myself?" His voice rose slightly at the accusation.

"Can you honestly say your actions aren't influenced by guilt? We've all seen the way she looks at you now, behaves around you. If you are sulking in order to get her to forgive you, you've reached a new low, Azriel."

"You listen to me," Azriel spit out, and you could picture his jaw clenching, the way he stepped up close to Cassian in anger. A beast unleashed, and Cassian ready to take his rage. "She could hate me for the rest of my life, hit me, never speak to me again, and I would always try to provide her with a sense of safety again. Do I feel guilty? Of course I fucking do! I would give the wings off my fucking back to be able to go back to that night. I will never forgive myself for what happened, for not fucking thinking. And I will, deservingly so, live with that for the rest of my life. But she shouldn't have to... so I am doing what I can to help. To see her smile again, to be able to eat and sleep. Okay? Do I need your fucking permission, Cass?"

It was quiet. You tried to steady your breathing at his words.

Cassian sighed. "Do you honestly know what you're doing?"

Azriel must have made a motion for his brother to continue, because Cassian went on, his voice dropping to the point you had to adjust your position a bit to hear. "This isn't just about the attack. We have all seen the way she looked at you before all of this..."

No, Cassian, gods-

"She hates me," Azriel argued.

"Maybe now," Cassian agreed. "But she didn't before. Didn't you ever notice how you were the person she always wanted to talk to? Whenever she was excited about something, you were who she wanted to share it with."

You heard their feet shift on the hardwood floors, the material creaking with their movement. They must have relaxed a bit, the tension ebbing away as Cassian sighed once again.

"Listen, I'm not telling you to not care about her. I obviously know you want what's best for her. But taking care of her now, because Rhys forbid you from seeing Elain, because your actions set off a tragic event... Don't make this harder for her."

Azriel was quiet for a moment, taking in Cassian's words.

"I don't know where to go from here," he said. He sounded so broken. "I had never been so afraid to lose someone as when I saw you carrying her in that night. And I don't even know why. We were friends, of course, but in that moment I wanted to die. I would have killed everyone in Velaris to know who did that to her. I have never felt like that before. Completely unraveled and uncontrolled."

"What about E-"

"I don't fucking care about Elain!" He sounded frustrated, like he was clenching his fists or pulling on the material of his shirt. "I'm not here because I can't see Elain, I'm not here because of guilt, I'm here because I am terrified that if I take my eyes off of her for a second, she won't be okay."

Your heart gave a traitorous beat in your chest. You didn't know if it was because of his mention of Elain or because his words showed genuine care.

"You all can hate me, can think I'm some selfish bastard who is trying to earn himself back into good graces. A liar who couldn't possibly get over Elain that quickly. All I know is I haven't been able to think about Elain since that night. All I can think about is the way she used to give me snarky comments about my book choices or my training style. The way she used to bring me back an extra treat from her favorite bakery in Velaris. And I want her to have that joy again. I don't care if I am forever hated and feel this soul-shredding guilt in my chest every day for the rest of my life, I need her to survive this."

"Azriel," Cassian breathed sympathetically.

"So I am going to be there for her as much as she allows me. I will sit in that chair every night until she kicks me out and I will sleep instead during the day. I will make sure she is eating and sleeping and conversing with her friends, but don't for a second think I want her to forgive me. She deserves to hate me, Cassian. And I deserve that hate too."

Your heart twinged in your chest. You have always wanted Azriel to care for you, but not like this. Even if his care went past his guilt, you couldn't help but look at his track record, his infatuation with females who needed help, needed saving.

Did you only catch his interest once you were broken too? Did he need you to be injured to be able to find a purpose in you?

No. You wouldn't be his pet project.

You would get through this, you would become yourself again. And you would do it without his help.

"Just give her time. Give yourself time too. There are a lot of emotions happening right now. It can be difficult to navigate and understand."

A wisp curled into your hair - your assigned shadow.

"Hey," you greeted it softly. "I'm okay. You can go back to him."

It ignored you, swirling across your skin instead. Shadow or not, you needed to heal without Azriel. Without his conflicting emotions, his back-and-forth, his guilt, and the overwhelming way it all made you feel. You had to forgive him on your own, and you had to heal from the assault separately as well.

You pulled the covers off of you before standing up from the bed, no longer listening to the conversation happening outside of your room. Instead, you dressed yourself in something other than loungewear for the first time in a week. The clothing was sturdy and protective, yet flexible. Then, you pulled your hair back tightly, wrapping the strands in a ponytail before making your way to the door and swinging it open.

Both males turned to look at your unexpected interruption. Azriel looked like he was about to fall to his knees at the sight of you while Cassian quickly masked his surprise with a smirk.

"Sleeping Beauty is finally awake."

You ignored his teasing. "I'd like to start training again. Today."

Cassian’s brows rose at your statement. “Think you’re ready to go up against me already, sweetheart?”

You scoffed. “I’ve had like five lessons, Cass. I’ve never been ready to go up against you.”

He ignored your unwillingness to play along. “Were you thinking of joining Valkyrie training or doing one-on-one?”

Azriel shifted at the question. Valkyrie training would involve his presence at times, no doubt. From the sound of it, he had been helping some of the other priestesses plenty. He really did have a thing for helping broken females.

“One-on-one. At least at first. At a certain point, it could be good to transition to a group… If that’s alright with the others.”

“I don’t see it being a problem. Do you, Az?” Cassian slammed a hand down on his brother’s shoulder, the sound echoing in the hallway.

Azriel grimaced at the hit, but he didn’t move Cassian’s grip. “No, you should join whenever you feel ready.”

You nodded, not meeting his stare. Instead, you kept your head high and focused on Cassian. “So… are you free today?”

“Tonight,” he corrected. “Meet me up in the training ring around 9. Or I can come get you-“

“I can meet you up there.”

“Alright.” He gave you a nod, shaking Azriel’s shoulder in a farewell, before taking a step back. He left with a call over his shoulder, “Be ready to sweat!”

It was quiet in the hall as his footsteps faded in your ears. Azriel stood still, but you could feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to lead the situation.

You swallowed, turning slightly to finally meet his eye. He stood up a little straighter.

“I need to borrow one of your daggers for training.”

Your voice was not harsh, but it did not hold its past warmth when you addressed him. His brows scrunched in confusion, and slight concern, at your request.

“Why do you need a dagger?”

You nonchalantly pointed to your throat. His eyes trailed the silvery scar before meeting your own once again. He shuffled on his feet, biting his lip in hesitation.

You interrupted his train of thought before things got too awkward. “I need one that is similar to that night. I’d like to practice with it. Make sure I don’t freeze in the future.”

It had never been like this with him. Bland, to-the-point, methodical. Before, your conversations had been filled with yours and his interests, some banter, and always happiness. Even when one of you were down, it was never this empty.

And you could tell by Azriel’s hesitation that he didn’t like the idea of you using one of his daggers - either for the specific purpose of confronting your trauma or just using it at all. Maybe he didn’t want to share his weapons with anyone. After all, he’d only ever shared one with Elain-

“Okay.” His voice was quiet, and he licked his lips before taking in a breath. “Do you want to pick out which one you’d like to use?”

You nodded, and he signaled for you to follow him, assumedly to his room.

You had only been in his space once before. About a month ago, you had borrowed a book from him about the history of the Night Court. When you had knocked to leave the book by his door, he had told you to come in, taking a break from the paperwork at his desk to chat with you about the text.

That felt like so long ago.

His room now was in more disarray than that last time. His sheets were rumpled, presumably from him jumping out of bed when he had heard you in the hall the night before. Weapons were discarded on his nightstand, one peaking out from underneath his pillow. Documents were strewn across his desk, both organized and haphazardly placed, pens of different colors scattered across the pages.

The entire room smelled like him, and it was almost like being hugged in a warm blanket. Despite what had happened, your body still associated his scent with comfort. You wanted to hit yourself, to knock the senseless reaction out of your mind.

"Over here," he called, walking over to a cabinet on the far end of his room. He unlocked it and opened the doors to reveal a wide range of sharp objects, immaculately displayed and taken care of. He eyed them, and you noticed his gaze turn briefly to the scar on your neck before he cleared his throat. "Choose any you'd like."

You stepped close to the cabinet, fingers reaching out to graze across some of the hilts. Many of these were beautiful, you had to admit. You didn't want beautiful, though. You needed one that would help you conquer your fear.

To the right of the top shelf, sat a longer dagger that glinted silver from the moonlight casting in through the windows. The hilt was a dark charcoal, a leathery texture wrapping around the handle before sharp edges shot out underneath the blade. They looked like frozen waves turned black under midnight, devastating and destructive. Your finger stroked one carefully, and you felt Azriel stiffen beside you.

"This one."

He was quiet. You turned to face him, dropping your hand from the dagger. "May I take it?"

"That one," he paused, "has been used in many... harrowing interrogations."

You shrugged. "Then it will do its job."

He only looked at you. "You may take whatever you need."

The words held more than just permission to take the dagger. You refused to acknowledge the vulnerability from him, though, to acknowledge his willingness to please you, and instead reached forward toward the nightmarish weapon.

"Thank you," you said, grip tight around the hilt. He gave you a nod, and then you were turning on your heel, leaving the room before he could utter another word.

Dagger in hand, you made your way back to your room. You gripped it as hard as you could, memorizing the feel of your muscles straining.

Those muscles saved you and would save you again.

As you tensed your fingers harder and harder, you let the fear and sadness in your veins transform into something different, something near exhilarating: anger.

You were angry. And you would use that anger to get through this.

No matter who it needed to be aimed at.

#azriel angst #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel/reader #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you

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lalacliffthorne · 9 months

Text

⚔️ I really don't think now's the best time ⚔️

Azriel x Reader

summary: battlefields are really not the right place for important revelations.

notes: like I said, this is totally inspired by that iconic scene in Pirates of the Carribeans. there's a shit ton of fighting involved, so prepare for graphics. if you want to go all in, listen to this specific part of the soundtrack over and over again and the vibes will be immaculate. now go and have fun, kids.

______________________________________________________________

The middle of a battlefield was arguably the worst place for any kind of not remotely expected revelation.

“Why,”, gritting my teeth, I swung my swords and neatly decapitated the huge, wolf-like beast, “do they,”, dodging a blow, I dropped to my knees, whirling through the mud and slicing open another one's belly, “keep,”, I slid to my feet and finished in an angry, “coming?!”

Slashing my sword across a soldier's throat, I turned around. A gust of wind sent a splatter of rain right into my face, strands of soaked hair clinging to my cheeks as I breathed heavily, my gaze darting over the world going to shit around me, my heart rising in my chest as I tried to catch a glimpse at the familiar sight of blue blazing siphons and leathally flowing shadows.

The battlefield was complete and utter chaos. The heavy rain that had set in only shortly after the begin of the battle had turned the land into one huge muddy puddle, dirt splashing and covering allies and enemies alike. Our defenses seemed to be close to being overrun. In the sky, only a few Illyrians were left fighting alongside Gwyn, the only Valkyrie on the northern flank, up against gryphons with talons like iron and bloodred eyes. The rest of the Illyrians had taken to the ground, now fighting side by side with the Fae warriors left on foot, but more enemies seemed to just come flooding from north, like a never ending stream of monstrous beasts and soldiers armed to the teeth.

Something churned in my chest, and I had to fight the surge of dread rising in my chest.

Unless Feyre turned up with reinforcements soon, we were screwed.

There was a call of my name, deep and thundering over the sound of battle, and when I slashed my swords over one of the beast's throat and raised my head, my heart tilted in a wild flutter.

Azriel kicked a soldier back before turning to look at me over his shoulder. His dark hair was soaked by the rain, mud sprinkled over his armor, the sword in his hand and Truthteller in his other gleaming with blood. His eyes looked wild, but something flashed through them for nothing more than a second when they found mine.

“I need to tell you something!” His deep voice reverberated over the battlefield.

I sent a soldier flying with a kick to the chest and caught another's blade with my crossed ones, yelling back: “I'm a little busy at the moment!”

Slicing my swords down, I dropped to my knees, sliding over the muddy ground and taking down a row of soldiers with blades to their legs before coming back to my feet, and my breath hitched, my heart falling out of rhythm when Azriel appeared right in front of me from a cloud of shadows, wet hair curling and mud and blood spattered over his face as his eyes darted over my face, wild and almost desperate.

“It can't wait!”, he called.

Breathing heavily, I stared up at him through the rain pelting down, feeling the ache of my sore body wash over me now that I wasn't moving, and my brows furrowed as concern tightened my chest; because I had never seen him so blatantly unguarded and expressive, emotions practically swirling in his eyes.

“What –“

Azriel pushed me back, and I whirled around, deflecting a blow of a soldier coming at me as the shadowsinger rammed his daggers into another one's chest in the place I had just stood, rain running over his face and shadows rising, wrapping around a third soldier's throat.

“I really don't think now´s the best time!”, I yelled, the slight absurdity of Azriel of all people deciding he needed to talk in the middle of a battlefield making my voice dip almost comically.

"This might be the only time!” Azriel's deep voice vibrated over my skin, his rough shout audible even over the roar of the rain and the clashing of weapons, and I whirled around, sword flying down on a soldier´s neck and sending blood spattering.

A hand closed around my biceps and pulled me back, then I was spun around, and my heart skipped into my throat when Azriel's chest pressed into mine and he dipped his head, his eyes flying over my face as streams of rain ran over his own, and something like desperation flashed through them when he called over the war cries and clashing of weapons: “I –“

His eyes darted up as my instincts flared in warning, and we moved at the same time, his shadows throwing up a wall against a wave of ash arrows as I slid past him and Threw one of my swords at the beast, huge and bear-like, flying at us. The weapon sank into its side, causing it to crash onto the ground, and I whirled around and rammed my other sword into its throat.

“I need you to know –“ Azriel broke off again, dodging a sword and gutting the belonging soldier in one smooth movement, and I landed a kick on another soldier's back.

“Are you sure this can'´t wait?!”, I yelled back, diving to avoid a blow to the head and rolling off over my shoulder, sliding through the mud and baring my teeth at a beast that growled back before jumping at me, and I dipped and slit it's throat.

Azriel stabbed his daggers into another wolf-like monster, siphons blazing as he beat his wings and a wave of shadows rolled away, drowning a row of soldiers as he turned, and something staggered in my chest at the sight of him, shadows shrouding his tall, lean body and curling around his shoulders, even broader under his black armor as a flash of lightning illuminated his face.

Even caked in dirt and blood, drenched by the heavy rain as drops of water ran from his hair over his cheekbones, he was utterly and annoyingly beautiful.

“Yes!”, he called back, and I whirled around, swords slashing and reflecting another strike of lightning as thunder rolled and I knocked a soldier to the ground. “I need you to know tha–“

There was a snarl, and I dove out of the way, rolling through the mud as a beast crashed into the spot I had been in a mere heartbeat before. I slammed my swords down into its back with an angry sound, then I raised my head, my heart thrumming and adrenaline rushing through my veines, and my eyes met golden ones, desperate and wild and only hesitant for a second before the chaos vanished, replaced by something else, something deep and worldshaking. Then Azriel's deep voice rumbled over the noise of the battle.

“I love you!”

The world fell still for a moment. Became quiet and stagnant as my heart did one mighty leap.

Then time fell back into place, something staggered in my chest, and my eyes grew wide.

“What?!”

Somehow, I dodged the next blow, parrying another and directing it to the side as I slid my other blade over the soldier's throat, ramming my shoulder into his chest to push him back before turning around wide eyed, and my gaze met another, shining like amber in sunlight.

“You –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made me duck, and I swerved, dropping to my knees and sliding over the muddy ground. Ramming my swords into two soldier's lower regions, I pulled them out and used the momentum to push myself to my feet. Then I whirled around and yelled, disbelief and sheer shock making my voice rise an octave: “You what?!”

A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me forward, and I stumbled into a solid chest, my heart jumping into my throat as my head whipped up and I could feel the sensation of shadows rising behind me and heard swords dropping and a struggle. But it all felt far away, because I could feel Azriel's body press against mine and his eyes were piercing, looking wild and desperate and pained when he called over the noise of the battle, voice rough: “I love you!”

My throat closed as I opened my mouth in shock; Azriel pulled me past him, and I whirled around and parried the blows of a soldier, slicing my swords over his arms before ramming my blades into his chest, then I threw my head around, my wet hair clinging to my face, and Azriel dropped another soldier. For a second, our eyes met, mine wide and completely dumbfounded, then he dodged a blow.

“You –“ I tried to get closer to him but almost got jumped by a huge beast. Shadows wrapped around me and pulled me back, and Azriel slit a soldier's throat before looking back at me, rain running over his face and desperation flashing through his eyes as he yelled: “I had to make sure you knew!“

A war cry made me spin around, and I dodged, swerving the blow of a sword and slashing my own across the soldier's throat, blood spattering as I yelled back in almost comical disbelief: “So you're telling me now?!”

A hand wrapped around my wrist, whirling me out of a beast's reach and right into the way of a sword crashing down, my own blades catching it effortlessly. A familiar scent rose into my nose, distinct even under the smell of blood and dirt, and my heart thrummed into my throat as I pushed, my swords sinking into the soldier's chest, then I spun around, rain dripping over my skin as I stared wide eyed at the male right in front of me, so close I could hear the roughness in his voice even though he didn't shout, one corner of his lips quirking almost helplessly as his eyes dragged over my face like he wanted to ingrain it into his mind when he called hoarsely: “Better late than never.”

My heart skipped into my throat as I stared up at him, and my lips opened, but then Azriel's eyes darted up, and he pulled me out of the way, his sword catching the one of an enemy soldier.

“What –“ I gutted a gigantic wolf, widening my eyes as I threw the shadowsinger a disbelieving look. “How late is late?!” I ducked, swerving the blow of a sword and ramming my own blade into the side of the soldier's neck.

“Since the day you stayed up with me for first time!” Azriel dodged a blow. “Probably even before that.” He raised his head, and something rose in my chest when his amber eyes found mine, his voice raspy when he called lightly: “Probably from the moment I met you.” His gaze flickered over my face, and my heart skipped and tumbled at the emotion swirling inside as he added hoarsely: “It's always been you.”

My throat closed up, and I kicked a beast to the side and sliced through some soldier's necks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it's you.” Even though Azriel's voice was raised, I could still hear how unsteady it was, raw as the words tumbled from his lips as he called them over the raging battle around us. “From the day I met you, there was something about you, something that made everything wash away, that made breathing easier, everything easier! Where I didn't have to hide!” His eyes flickered over mine, chest rising and falling quickly with his heavy breaths as rain streamed over his face and his throat worked like he was trying not to swallow. “And it scares the fuck out of me, but I don't care!” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine when his amber iris found mine. “You're it.”

Something rose in my chest, fluttering so wildly it felt a little difficult to breathe.

“Why the hell did you never say anything?!”, I yelled in disbelief, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he dodged a blow, slicing the soldier's throat.

“Because I was afraid you didn't feel the same!”

“What?!” Rain pelted down at me, my soaked armor becoming heavier with every moment, but for a change, I didn't feel any of it. Breathing heavily, I stared at the godsdamned beautiful male, and my heart rose, rose until it was in my throat and the world turned into a tilt. “Of course I do!”

Azriel's head whipped up, and I kicked a soldier away and slashed his throat before turning around, feeling the words echo through me as I yelled: “I love you too!”

As the last syllable left my lips, Azriel stared. Stared as something seemed to rise in his eyes. Then darkness wrapped around him, and he appeared in front of me like formed from shadows. His amber eyes were bright with desperation and something so much deeper, it caused my breath to simply still. Caused my heart to swell and time to slow as he took one last step and slipped his arm around my waist, his scent washing over me in an intoxicating wave, his movements never faltering as he leaned down without an ounce of hesitation, and something shifted in my chest, locking into place with a soundless snap when his lips crashed onto mine in a hard, desperate kiss.

My heart pulsed once. Twice, as something bloomed under my ribs, warm and rising until it thrummed through my whole chest, pulling towards the male pressed against me, body tall and solid and unwavering, and I sucked in a soft, trembling breath.

Oh.

Slowly, Azriel broke the kiss, like he had to force himself to pull back, his nose brushing against mine and causing my heart to miss a step. Then he slowly raised his head, and my breath hitched, gave out completely for a second when I caught the way his iris shifted like amber in golden sunlight, lips parted and gaze piercing mine.

There was a war cry behind me, and Azriel's eyes snapped up, sharpening.

My heart flew, and my instincts kicked in.

Azriel pulled me out of the way with a growl, and I whirled around, swords clashing with two others, blocking blows as I dropped to my knees and turned, and the blades found their home in the soldier's stomachs. Pulling them out, I raised my head, and my throat closed up when I saw our lines slowly beginning to unravel as the steady stream of beasts and soldiers didn´t seem to waver.

My gaze found Azriel, in a cloud of shadows, teeth bared in a snarl and blades flashing in a clash of lightning, rain pelting onto his shoulders, and that feeling in my chest rose until I was sure it had to be visible, like a golden light thrumming under my ribs.

“Azriel!”, I shouted desperately, and he slammed the hilt of his sword onto an enemy soldier's head before turning around, amber eyes finding mine.

My heart tightened almost violently, and before I could stop myself, before even really thinking, I called, my voice a little weak: “Marry me?”

Azriel froze. Stilled on the spot as shadows swirled around him, catching ash arrows and knocking out soldiers, his eyes piercing mine as emotions swirled through them like the storm above.

And suddenly I knew he felt it. Maybe not yet that the bond was vibrating in my chest, thrumming in synch with my racing heart. But that he knew.

Azriel blinked against the rain pouring over his face, and I could see how he suppressed the urge to swallow. Then he shouted, his deep voice causing my breath to flutter: “Gwyn!”

My breath hitched, and Azriel's eyes pierced mine, golden and bare and burning as he yelled: “Marry us!”

“I'm a little occupied right now!”, Gwyn shouted from high above us, cursing as her winged horse barely managed to swerve around a gryphon.

A soldier came at me, and I dodged his blows, sliding my sword over his chest.

“Gwyn!”, I yelled, my voice breaking, and somehow, she must've heard it over the noise and chaos, because she yelled back, only halfheartedly annoyed: “Fine! If I fall, it's your fault!”

I landed a kick on the soldier's chest and sent him backwards, then I turned around, and Azriel was there, his hand wrapping tightly around my wrist as he pulled me forward until we were chest to chest, and that golden thrum in my chest soared at the way his eyes pierced mine.

“Dearly beloved,”, Gwyn yelled over the roar of thunder, “we've gathered here today to pull every single one of your feathers, you miserable excuse of a chicken!”

There was an irritated screech followed by a scuffle high over our heads, and Azriel pushed me back as two enemy soldiers came at us with swords drawn. Swinging around, I sent my blade down onto the right one's hand, severing it cleanly, and as he screamed, I shoved my sword into his chest.

Azriel called my name, and when my head whipped around, his hand closed around mine, pulling me out of the way of a beast and with my back into his chest, his deep voice rumbling through my body when he shouted over the rain: “Do you take me,”, I kicked out and the beast yelped, “to be your husband?”

Slashing my sword over the beast's snout, a laugh bubbled in my chest when Azriel spun me around, and my heart rose in my chest when I stared up at him, feeling pressure build in my throat as his eyes darted over my face, almost like he was expecting me to change my mind, pull back -

“I do!”

Azriel blinked, and his eyes brightened, became as radiant as amber held into the evening sun. Something shifted in my chest when a smile spread over his face, widening with every second, until creases formed in his cheeks and crinkles around his eyes, and I had to physically fight to keep myself from burying my fingers in his messy hair and pull him in to kiss him.

There was a war cry from our left, and I widened my eyes and jumped back, feeling the a blade whizz down where I had been standing just seconds before, and Azriel growled, wings flaring and sending out a wave of shadows that took down the row of soldiers behind him as I parried the next blow and slammed the soldier to the ground.

Whirling around, I grabbed Azriel's outstretched hand and yelled: “Do you take me,”, I ducked under his arm and blocked a blow, “to be your wife?” Azriel pulled me back, parrying the next as I stabbed my sword into another soldier's stomach. “On the good days and the bad; though,”, smoothly slicing the soldier's throat, I growled, “we might not see a lot more!”

Azriel's grip tightened, and he twirled me around, pulling me out of the way of another soldier, and my heart fluttered violently when my chest pressed into his and that golden feeling thrummed when Azriel nodded, eyes darting over my face and deep voice hoarse when he called over the rain: “I do!”

My breath hitched and heart fluttered, the feeling in my chest rising, and above us, Gwen yelled: “Then hereby, you may be bound! Bound by soul, bound by heart, bound to one!”

There was a flare of heat in the middle of my chest, and my breath hitched when Azriel's grip tightened like he felt it too; the burning of a tattoo appearing on his skin, the sign of the vows made visible in ink.

Gwyn's voice echoed through the skies when she yelled: “You now may –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made Azriel and me dart apart.

“You now –“

I dodged a blow, Azriel's hand closing around mine and spinning me around to parry another as his sword clashed with a third.

“You may kiss the –“

Thunder struck, I ducked under a beast's claw, then Gwyn shouted in frustration: “Godsdamnit, just kiss her!”

My heart surged and skipped; Azriel pulled me around, and his arm wrapped around my waist as mine slipped over his shoulder, I could feel him dipping me back lightly as he leaned down, then he kissed me.

Kissed me as rain poured down our faces, my free hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck and my breath hitching as I kissed back, deep and desperate, and a hoarse sound rumbled in Azriel's throat as he tightened his grip around me, kissing me like it was the first and last time.

The sound of a horn ripped me back into reality, reminding me that the world was close to ending.

Azriel pulled me back up onto my feet, breaking the kiss, and I was thankful that he was just as out of breath as I was, could feel his heart pounding just as quickly. Then he raised his head, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high as relief so kneebuckling washed over me, I was glad Az was still holding me.

The cavalry had arrived.

“Come on, you two!”, Gwyn yelled somewhere above us, sounding gleeful. “Let's finish this!”

I raised my head, and Azriel's arm slipped away from my waist, amber eyes finding mine. For a second, I could see something flash through his gaze, like he expected me to pull back, suddenly regret this.

But I just sent him a wide, wicked smile.

“Shall we?”

It was still raining, but the storm had moved on. In the west, the clouds were breaking up, allowing the light of the sinking sun to flood over the lowlands, making the light rain shimmer as a rainbow spanned across the sky.

Breathing in deeply, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as I felt the rain drizzle onto my face and body, washing away the smell of blood from the air and only leaving the scent of wet grass and moss to fill my nose with every slow inhale.

Feyre's arrival with the reinforcements had turned the tide, every last warrior gathering all their remaining strength. Still, there had been many losses, even after our victory, and wandering through the bloody mud, paying respect to the fallen, had caused a weight to rest on my chest, one that could not even be brushed away by the knowledge that my friends, my family was alive; exhausted and strained and with quite a few scratches, but alive.

Which was why I was standing on a hill, a little away from the tents, just listening to the patter of rain and breathing in the clean air as I felt the tension slowly melt from my muscles, leaving only exhaustion and heaviness in my limbs and a feeling of being so tired, I could have fallen asleep on the spot.

I felt him before I heard the call of my name, the feeling in my chest that had shrunk to a small, warm hum pulsing and growing.

Tipping my head back down, I looked over my shoulder, and my breath hitched when Azriel came towards me.

Just like me, he was still in his armor, specks of mud and blood on his cheeks, hair damp and curling like he had attempted to dry it and then got distracted. His dark brows were drawn together as his golden eyes pierced into mine.

“What are you doing?”, he called, his low, deep voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

He looked so close to his usual scowl, I felt my heart rise and skip as my lips curved up.

“Cleansing,”, I called back, and Azriel huffed, but it almost looked like he was fighting to keep his lips from twitching as he crossed the last bit of distance.

Turning around, I squinted up at him through the drizzle of rain, the thrumming thing in my chest soaring at the sight of him.

Godsdamned beautiful.

Up close, I could see the signs of exhaustion. His shadows were lazily swirling around his feet, his wings were drooping so much they almost grazed the ground, and his eyes were tired. But something sparked in them when they moved over my face, my heart skipping when I could feel his warm breath brush over my forehead.

“You know we have this ingenius invention for that? It's called a shower.” His voice was so dry, my heart skipped, and a smile slowly spread over my face, wide and bright and freeing in a way that caused something to stagger in my chest.

Azriel´s eyes narrowed in, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little.

“I know.” Squinting up at him, I felt my smile grow smaller as I shrugged softly, something tightening gently in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, and my heart fluttered into my throat when he reached out, gently pushing a wet strand of hair out of my face. His fingers, out of his gloves, brushed over my skin, warm and rough, and my breath hitched, a shudder running over my spine.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, and that thing in my chest pulsed and thrummed at the way his golden eyes started to shine.

The shadowsinger dipped his head, and my heart skipped and jumped when his lips brushed over mine. Then his thumb and forefinger gently closed around my chin, and Azriel tilted my head back to kiss me, deep and slow until I sank into his chest, my knees simply too tired to keep up with the way all of him made the world spin. My fingers curled into his sides, and Azriel´s other hand rose to move to the back of my neck, gently tangling in my hair, and his thumb brushed over my skin until a soft sound broke from the back of my throat and my whole body shuddered.

Azriel's lips curved up against mine. Then he slowly pulled back, and my heart skipped when I saw his eyes, lids heavy and iris hazed over, the only thing betraying him; showing that I had more than the same effect on him that he had on me.

The thought made something rise and flutter in my stomach.

I blinked. Then I furrowed my brows and mumbled: “Crap.”

Azriel's gaze cleared a little, brows drawing together, and his hand slipped down to rest against the side of my neck. “What?”

I stared past him into nothing.

“I just realised we have to explain to Rhys and Cass that we got married without them.”

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