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#Amren did it to Feyre once
the-darkestminds · 1 month
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I wish soooo badly that Nesta had said something like “taking a page out of Tamlin’s book?” to Feyre when they told her she’d be locked in the house of wind. Feyre prob would’ve cried and Rhys prob would’ve killed Nesta for making Feyre cry but the satisfaction for me in that moment would’ve been 🤌
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janearts · 11 months
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Your Cassian is so perfect 😭😭❤️
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Thank you! I've gotten a lot of positive feedback, which is a relief! ...Although, full disclaimer, I don't think any of the stuff I've drawn is actually "from the book" (or any book in the series) so I am pretty much just doing my own thing with these characters. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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imaginesmai · 4 months
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The orange peel theory - Azriel
I saw this post by @marvelsmylife and I thought I would give it a try! I've seen also lots of couples doing this on TikTok, so here's my take on how Azriel would do it. Hope you like it!
Plot: the spring court is beautiful, oranges are beautiful, but there's nothing more beautiful than your mate.
You loved the Spring court, you really did. Unlike Cassian, who couldn’t even get out of his room without sneezing the life out of his body, you spent your time there walking through the beautiful gardens. No matter how terrible Tamlin was, how much you despised the meetings between courts – you loved the Spring court.
All your friends and family were busy that morning, most of them in said meeting. Rhys and Feyre had been the first ones to arrive, Cassian and Azriel following close. You had woken up to an empty bed and cold sheets, your mate’s training not keeping up with your late nights reading. Still, Azriel had left you a short note and a beautiful flower.
You would have spent the morning with Nesta, but she was busy with Elain preparing the last details of her wedding with Lucien. Mor and Amren had chosen to stay in Velaris, and that left you alone in those beautiful gardens.
Time flew by each time you stopped to look at a flower or insect, as you let your body soak the warm sun through the trees. You wouldn’t have noticed the morning rolling away if it wasn’t for your stomach rumbling angrily at you. Deciding leaving the gardens was too much of an effort, you looked around for something to eat.
The meeting would end soon, but you would remain for two days more. There were enough matters to discuss that the high lords needed more than one meeting. As soon as Azriel was free, he would come looking for you – and you didn’t want to waste any time eating when you could explore the beautiful court.
So, when you spotted the orange tree, you made your decision.
It was big enough that you had to step on a bench to grab the closest orange. Once you did, you couldn’t resist grabbing some more. Big and colorful, your mouth watered just at the sight. You ended up on your tiptoes, barely keeping balance, gathering the oranges between your chest and arm.
One of them rolled out of your grasp, but before it fell, shadows gathered around it and brought it back to the group. You smiled instantly, stretching slightly to take the last orange. You felt your body gravitating forward as the tips of your fingers barely grazed it, and just before you could fall over, warm hands rounded your waist.
You were lifted the missing inch and stabilized at the same time, shadows keeping your legs upright. After taking the orange, you barely had time to look at it before you were lowered to the ground, back meeting his hard chest.
“Aren’t you a little shabby for a thief?” Azriel whispered against your ear, holding you close. “Risking your life for a bunch of oranges?”
“Oh, like you would have left me fall” you rolled your eyes, resisting the urge of squirming away when his lips brushed your cheek.
“I could have been away”
“Still”
You turned around, your arms full of oranges, and met his hazel eyes. Azriel could have been miles away, in a different country, that you were sure his shadows would have found a way of keeping you from hurt, just as they always did. You knew it, he knew it, and there was no real concern under his words, just playful banter.
Politics, territorial business and high lords were hard for him, and you could guess the outcome of the meeting in the darkness under his eyes. Still, when you looked at him, they shone a little brighter, his lips curling upwards.
His wings blocked the sun from behind, but some rays peeked through and made him look even more divine than he already was. Only a few hours away, and you already missed him.
His arms circled your waist and he lowered himself until he could kiss you softly, erasing the memories of the previous meeting. He tasted like home, like safety, and you were ready to drop your treats and wrap yourself around your mate.
Barely two seconds into the kiss, it was broken by the loud sound of your stomach reclaiming you back to your previous task. Azriel tore away with raised eyebrows, and burst into a loud laugh at your rosy cheeks.
“It’s past lunch time, don’t judge me” you looked down to your arms. “Want an orange?”
“I would love nothing more than a stolen orange”
You didn’t need words when you were with him, not as you sat on the bench you had climbed on and Azriel took the oranges from your grasp. His dark leathers were a rough contrast with your soft dress, the scars on his hands contrary to your careful touch. He didn’t flinch like he used to when you wrapped your fingers around his, only smiled softly and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.
There was no other place you would rather be but on that bench with him, the sun and shadows creating a beautiful landscape full of flowers and colors.
Azriel took the last orange from you and easily peeled its roughness away. His nails were chipped and broken, but he managed to get the whole thing off and hand it to you in small pieces. You gladly let him put the first one in your mouth, happy with not moving a muscle away from him.
“I can do that” you raised a brow as you bit on the juicy fruit.
“And I can do it for you” he bit on the next piece, eyes dropping to your mouth.
You tried grabbing the rest of the orange from him, but he easily brushed you away. It was common for him to do that type of stuff – peeling an orange for you so your hands wouldn’t get dirty, doing your hair in the morning when you were too tired, putting food on your plate before his own.
Those little things had built a comfortable relationship during your years together. You cleaned the blood off his leather when he came back from a mission and he brought you flowers each Sunday. He folded your clothes in a neat pile to you after your bath and you helped him tie his boots when he was sore from training.
The birds chirped around you as he kept peeling oranges, handing you some pieces and eating the rest of them. You watched as he carefully removed the white striped that you always complained about, checking each piece before giving it to you.
“How was the meeting?” you tried eventually, breaking the peaceful silence.
“It was” he shrugged, plucking the last part of the peel before dividing the orange. “Tamlin growled at everything and everyone. Kallias stepped out in the middle of it. Beron and Eris”
“What of Beron and Eris?”
“They were… them”
You knew without words that Beron and Eris had been the worst part of it. Maybe, if it wasn’t for them, Azriel would enjoy the politics of those meetings. He would stand in that room with his wings wide and head high. But they always managed to find something to bring him down, to make him feel less than them. And you would have gladly punched them into the knowing they wouldn’t even get close to the man Azriel was.
Azriel didn’t elaborate the answer for a while, both of you eating quietly. Once he had peeled the fourth orange and you had refused the last part, he started plucking the crumbs from under his nails.
You hoisted your legs up to his own, and made yourself comfortable on his lap. The reaction of having your body close was instant, his muscles going lax and his shoulders dropping.
“Rhys thinks Eris will stick to his part of, you know” Azriel talked softly, as if his shadows wouldn’t inform him of any presence within twenty feet. “But when he’s with his father, with that… smile and attitude, I wish he wouldn’t. I just wish it was different”
“I know” you agreed, pressing your stained lips to his cheeks. “It will be soon”
He turned to look at you and you smiled as brightly and convincingly as you could. Working with Eris was worse than any type of meeting. Having him coming to Velaris, where your home was, and letting him know where the most precious part of him lived was hard enough. But watching him play his enemy in a room full of threats and knowing he knew those things was on a different level.
It broke your heart each time he came back from those meetings, each time his vulnerability became apparent and you could do nothing about it.
Just smile, stay by his side, and stick to the promise of not letting anything happen to any of you.
You tried changing the subject for his sake and yours, anything to make him smile again like a few minutes before. Brushing the sticky stain on his cheek, you mentioned something Nesta had talked about before.
“There is a theory, you know” you started, trying to bite the smile off your lips so he would take you seriously. “About males, and oranges, and peeling them”
“Likely a theory of one of your books” he teased, and when you didn’t confirm neither deny it, he chuckled. “Or Nesta’s. I don’t know which one is worse”
“The theory says, that if your partner peels oranges for you without asking or saying, they love and care about you” you repeated what Nesta had told you a few days ago. “Getting their hands dirty and not minding about it because they love their partners more”
“More than an orange’s peel?” Azriel smiled widely now. “After almost fifty years of relationship, I hope you too love me more than that”
“You’re missing the point”
“It’s a stupid theory”
It was because he did way more than peel oranges for you. And you did way more than change the subject to stupid theories so he would take his mind off the worries. If Azriel had to peel a thousand oranges for you, he would do it. If he was allergic to them, he would still do it.
There was little Azriel wouldn’t do for you. The basics of protecting you, of giving you his love and affection, were already set at the begging of your relationship. But as he thought of the stupid orange peel, he wondered if there was something he wouldn’t do for you.
And he knew that there wasn’t.
“Let me guess” he tugged your legs closer and looked into your eyes with a deep frown of concentration. “Nesta told you about it, just as he has told you about the rest of stupid theories you have put to test. And she has also told Elain and Feyre, and you all have put it to test”
“You’re missing Mor” you smiled, knowing he would make the whole story perfectly.
“Rhys passed, for sure. Lucien too, though he would probably be a little wary and ask about it before doing it, because Elain doesn’t eat too many oranges” he guessed correctly, making you scoff a laugh. “And Cassian asked Nesta to peel his orange”
You burst into a laugh because, just like he had said, had happened.
As you tilted your head back, a ray of sun hit the side of your face and Azriel’s heart started beating a little faster. He would never not find you beautiful, but sometimes, it would hit him just how beautiful you were. How lucky he was, how perfect his mate was. The cauldron had made him wait, had made him suffer, and all of it was worthy from the moment he laid his eyes on you.
“I love you” he smiled, Eris and Beron long gone from his mind. “Even if you’re a shaggy thief”
“I love you too”
Azriel closed his eyes and let the sun bake his skin. Having you in his arms always felt good, no matter where you were. Spring court, Velaris, your home. He could be lying in a battlefield with you in his arms, safe and sound, and it would feel like heaven.
The meeting had been shitty, and the two days left in that court would be too. But if enduring it and peeling oranges for you would get him that kind of peace, he was ready for it to last forever.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!
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acotarxreader · 6 days
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Stress Relief
Azriel X Reader
Synopsis: Working for the Night Court has become near impossible with Azriel determined to drive you out the door but can a camping trip arranged by Rhys smooth things over.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, frenemies to lovers, lots of dialogue, if you see a typo no you didn't
A/N: Hehe this kinda long but I wanted to keep the chaos to one part. I'm finding writing since Other Worlds a bit stressy so I think posting this nonsense will help with that and we can return to out regularly scheduled programming. Let me know what you think!
Requests open! (I am working on your Cass request if you see this anon👀 )
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“YN you need to fucking relax”
“I suggest that you keep quiet Azriel if you'd like to keep your head attached to your shoulders” Azriel rolled his eyes at you from the couch as you paced up and down, trusty list in hand. 
“I’m just saying you’ll give yourself a heart attack”
“Hey! Do you want me to add your name to this list!”
“Az would only want to be on it if it's your To Do list” A pillow flew from alongside Azriel right at Cassian as he howled. 
“I’ll relax once we get there”
“Why do you get so fucking neurotic when it comes to travelling?”
“Why are you so fucking anno-”
“Okay okay stop it you too! We promised Feyre no fighting on Rhy’s big camping trip, she’s already upset Elain won’t come, just don’t add to her stress” You and Azriel groaned like scolded children at Cassian’s words. You counted the bags again, checking off your list as you went. Azriel stood to grab his bag, coming chest to chest with you before pushing past.
“I’m flying ahead because I can’t be around her uptight ass anymore”
“Aw you look at my ass” you smiled sarcastically as Cassian laughed in the background. 
-
You all finally arrived deep within the woods of the Night Court, luggage crashing down around the group. You couldn’t stop thinking that you had forgotten everything, glancing from the list to the pile repeatedly, your friends happily unpacking. The night had already begun to creep in, Azriel and you delaying the group by fighting about which was the fastest route to take. You busied yourself fixing up some of the tents as Azriel dug through the pile of bags in search of his own. 
“YN, what’s the plan for us sleeping together?”
“Excuse me?” you deadpaned to Azriel. 
“Sor-Sorry I meant the plan for sleeping?” he quickly corrected himself, his shadows doing their best to cover his rosie cheeks. 
“Well, Feyre & Rhysand, Cassian & Nesta, Amren & Mor and then I guess you and Lucien and then I get my own tent” you beamed, shaking a sleeping bag from its case. 
“Funny how that worked out isn't it” he remarked and you rolled your eyes but the group agreed to the sleeping arrangements, with further prodding for Lucien to agree. 
You gathered around the fire, feasting on the fire-roasted food Cassian did his best not to cremate, trading life stories in pure unadulterated ease, everything Rhysand had wanted for this trip. You swaddled yourself deeply into your sleeping bag as the fire began to sink beneath its tinder. 
“Do you regret leaving Summer Court for us YNN?” 
“I think I love the Night Court more than I ever could Summer” You smiled in reply to Cassian, your eyes flashing to Rhysand briefly before he launched into his favourite Tarquin story, Azriel noticing the fleeting glance seemingly tinged with an element of sadness. 
“You like it even though being an emissary to the Seasonal Courts clearly makes you want to pull your hair from your head?” Azriel whispered to you. 
“You and your antics are the only thing that causes me to do that, I seriously think you need a refresher training on diplomacy” you bit back to his sharp whisper. You had shared the job with Lucien but soon found yourself taking on the brunt of the work as Lucien was lost in Elain.
“You need to stop being so uptight seriously, I think you need to be fucked or something, anything to get you to relax” Your head whipped towards him, the group laughing at Rhysand's story, choosing to ignore the two of you, assuming it was an argument. You huffed out in disgust at Azriel, he watched your chest release the full capacity of air from your lungs before taking another deep breath. You shuffled slightly in the sheet, wrapping the sleeping bag tighter around yourself and facing back towards the fire. It was then Azriel realised he was fully staring at your chest. 
“I didn't…I didn't mean that I want to be the one to….fuck you…I meant …” 
“Just stop talking Az” you scoffed, choosing to listen to Rhysand instead as Azriel mentally cursed himself for losing his edge over you. The fire sank until it went out, the laughter from the group lighting the forest. 
“Okay, it's like 2am, time for bed kids especially if we’re going for the hike tomorrow” Rhysand stood, pulling a sleepy Feyre to her feet. The group said their good nights as you climbed into your canvas home. You stretched along the fabric floor and sank into sleep easily, tired from the day as you balled up in your opened-out sleeping bag. 
-
“Hey! YNN! Wake up!” 
“I swear to the Gods you better be a super polite Naga about to rip my head off otherwise you’ll wish you were” you breathed out without opening your eyes, the sound of your tent zip worse than a blaring alarm to your sleepy state. 
“It’s Az, I need to sleep in here, push over” he collapsed next to you without invitation, your hand sailing outwards to clock him flat into the chest with a thud. 
“Az, what the fuck? It's like 3am, get the fuck out we’re not braiding one another's hair!” you whisper-shouted at him while you sat up. 
“Lucien is snoring like he’s trying to deafen me and I don’t fancy interrupting Mor and Amrens beauty sleep and as for the mates, I don’t need to explain why I don’t want to go in there” you sighed at him as he gave you a look that said he wasn’t going anywhere. You sank back into the canvas, Azriel pulling the sleeping bag from you. 
“Az” you bit out. 
“I’m not going to freeze to death because you’re a blanket thief”
“You’re going to find yourself on the other side of the zip if you don’t go to sleep” you said, rolling into the slack of the sleeping bag, pulling it fully from Azriel. He almost grunted at the action, catching the end and whipping it from under you, sending you rolling into the wall of the tent. 
“Az!” you barked and he raised his hands up in surrender. You sank beneath the cover again, moving closer to Azriel to spread the sleeping bag more evenly. Azriels eyes fixed on the mesh vents on the tent roof, the sound of the night filling the tent.
“Do you ever think you’ll go back to the Summer Court?” Azriel broke the silence that filled the tent, you sighed before replying. 
“If you keep being a prick then maybe” you deflected the question successfully.
“I’m a prick because I care” You laughed at his joking tone, rolling to your side to face him more, hands tucked in under your cheek. 
“As much stress as you and Cass and your antics cause me, which is a lot might I add, I would find it very hard to leave you freaks” you half laughed, eyes still heavy. 
“We’d miss you” he admitted
“I mean who would keep your secrets from one another if not me” you teased. 
“What secrets?” you tapped the side of your nose lazily and Azriel nudged you slightly in annoyance at your grin. 
“Fine fine emmm.... Cass is the one who told all those females in the Rita's where to find you when you were home” you yawned into a light laugh. Azriel felt annoyance grow in him at this revelation, that had caused him months of being harassed by all sorts from every walk of life. 
“I swear I’m going t-”
“Just leave it Shadowsinger” you gave a small laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to leave the nest you’d both made, pulling him back down and forgetting to let go, you lost your fight to sleep then, entirely drifting back off. Azriel glanced at you sleeping peacefully next to him and found himself surprised at enjoying holding your hand beneath the sleeping bag. 
Azriel stayed awake for half an hour, staring up at the canvas above him, torn between the growing pain in his shoulder and not wanting to let go of your hand. The nerves felt like they were screaming as the muscles went dead in his arm, an idea coming to him. He quickly rolled towards you while releasing your hand and grabbing the other but he greatly misjudged the distance, sending his head straight into yours. You almost immediately dropped his hand to place it on the bump growing on your head, Azriel feeling regret for waking you but more so for letting you go. 
“You're such a freak Shadowsinger” You laughed half asleep before rolling in closer to him and draping your arm across his waist, pulling yourself closer to him softly, resting your head between the pillow and his chest. Azriel felt such an unfamiliar level of comfort at the movement but also a new level of confusion. 
You moved from next to him then, leaning on your elbow to prop yourself up and look at him as puzzled as he looked at you. 
“Sorry I-I don't know why I did that”
“Emm it’s okay YN…it was actually kinda comfortable…I’m ok-ay if you’re okay with it” he spoke the words with caution and you found a sigh of relief leave you that you didn’t know you had. You rolled away from Azriel to face the tent wall, his face slightly greying with nerves, had he been vulnerable to the wrong person? He braced for your rejection only for it not come, instead you shuffled slightly down and laid your back flat into his chest. Azriel cautiously moved his arm across your waist, only to have you catch hold of his hand and move it across faster, forgetting to release his hand again. 
Azriel nestled his chin on top of your head, pulling you in as close as he could as you both tangled your legs together. He felt so entirely comforted by how close you were to him…too close he thought suddenly. He shuffled in the bed a little to try to hide the part of him betraying any sense of secrecy he had about his changing feelings towards you. You just moved back to where you were, leaving him no place to hide. Azriel felt your whole body smirk against him as you traced little circles along the back of his hand with your thumb, he hated how you were winning. 
“You’re not hard for me to read Azriel” he definitely heard the smirk from you. He refused to let you win, he tried to push the embarrassment from his voice before speaking again-
“Well I hardly think that's surprising, I already told you what I think needs to happen for you to relax” he barely whispered, your body's turn to stiffen in the bed alongside him, he smiled with the point he won. 
Azriel slowly moved to hover his mouth above your neck, both so still in the movement that he could almost see the hairs on your neck stand on their end. He gave little thought to his next movement, now acting on his instinct as he met your neck almost painfully softly. He kissed you there until you found your neck flexing to allow him more access. A betraying soft moan of approval escaped you as Azriel smiled into the nips he gave you, gaining a further point advantage. 
You couldn’t let him hold the win for long as you began to push yourself into his growing length, a low growl escaping him before he reburied himself in your neck, more feverishly this time. Your hand wrapped tighter around his as you began to grind into him, encouraging him further. You rolled onto your back, Azriel now almost hovering over you and moved without thinking. He leaned down and met his lips with yours. Electric, you were electrifying one another. This night was going further than you both thought it would. Sex was one thing but kissing someone like that and feeling such overwhelming desire as a result was another thing. You both separated almost surprised at the waves of confusion mixed with yearning. 
“I-I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have…” Azriel didn’t know what he was saying, almost begging you with his eyes to say anything. 
“I-” you were cut off by the sound of Lucien's loud sneeze from across the fire pit causing you both to almost jump. It hit you both then what you were about to do, with all your friends mere metres away. 
“Night Azriel” was all you found yourself saying before rolling back to face the wall of the tent, not taking his arm with you. Azriel cursed in his head before lying back down on the canvas. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, the thought of what could have been controlling his thoughts. He didn’t think you were asleep either but didn’t challenge you on it, what had you both done?
-
You rolled over to find the space next to you empty as the sun leaked in the thin canvas the next morning. You ran your hands down your face, cursing your actions from the night previous. You got dressed haphazardly, removing a mirror from your pack to braid your hair back, your eyes falling on deep maroon markings on the side of your neck. You traced them gently with your fingertips, a small smile escaping you at the memory. 
“YN! Get up! We’re leaving in 10” Cassian's voice accompanied him banging on the top of your tent, chasing your smile away. You ran your hands through the loose braid, separating it out again to cover the evidence of your lapse in judgment. 
You hauled yourself out through the soft door once you were dressed to find your friends all laughing at one of Cassian's stories, ready and waiting for you to set off. Your eyes landed on Azriel as he tilted his head back laughing before his eyes met yours, he almost instantly tore them from you and looked back to Cassian. 
-
The group set off bounding along the mountain in total ease, Nesta winding Rhysand up ahead of you and Cassian. 
“So YN…you gonna tell me why Az won’t look at you?” 
“How am I supposed to read that pain in the ass’s mind?” you replied almost too quickly to him as he raised an eyebrow, catching your hand and helping you up a steeper part of the path. You looked at the back of Azriel’s head ahead of you as he lead the group along the path to the waterfall. 
“Hmm likely story YN and tell me why I could have sworn I heard Az leave your tent this morning?” he couldn’t bury the teasing tone as you sighed. 
“Lucien was snoring so Azriel just stayed in my tent, no big deal” You could see the thoughts race through Cassian’s grinning face, you tilted your head slightly forward, ensuring the truth was still covered by your hair. 
“Interesting, I don’t know Lucien to be a snorer” He gave a small laugh as you raised your eyebrow, only getting a playful shake of the Illyrian's head in return. A sudden slap of mud met the side of Cassian's face. 
“That’s for Rita’s!“ Azriel shouted back the path, his hand having just released the ball of mud. 
“You told him YN!” Cassian’s head snapped to you as you howled with laughter.
“Must have slipped out?” you tried your best to lie, only to have the broad male throw you over his shoulder as you screamed in hysterics. He ran with you, the group all roaring laughing as they followed. You suddenly couldn’t feel Cassian under you as he flung you from his arms, landing with a splash into the large lake. 
“Cassian! I’m going to kill you!” you shrieked, the cold water bursting through you sending power coursing. You sent a tendril of water, playfully pulling Cassian from where he stood straight into the water alongside you, the group following suit in fits of laughter, leaving Azriel to watch from the rocks. Azriels eye caught the slight glimpse of his handiwork beneath your soaked hair, a pang of pride beating through him then replaced by panic. A shadow met the side of your face, draping your hair back to cover the markings. You looked towards Azriel and found yourself laughing at the action, he returned a smile. 
-
After a day of hiking and swimming and being a bunch of fools, you all came back to the campsite ready to feast on whatever you could scrounge up. 
“Okay everyone, it’s time to announce the reason behind this little trip” Rhysand announced to his family gathered around the roaring fire. 
“Well, as you know, YN has been with us now for some months now-”
“Unfortunately” you hit Azriel into the chest at his sarcasm.
“Anyways-” Rhysand threw a warning glance “-YN has helped to negotiate many our trade agreements and cleaned up many of our messes-” Cassian raised a glass to you at Rhysands words, the group laughing “-But anyway, I’m sorry to announce that I have failed as your High Lord in convincing her to stay with us” the group turned to face you in almost shock. 
“I know everyone I said-”
“-You said you wouldn’t leave” Azriel cut across you, semblances of pain dripping from his quick words. 
“I know Az but-”
“-No, you said you wouldn’t leave” his words turned to tones of anger, the group looking amongst themselves, feeling as though they were intruding. 
“Yes but Az, I’m needed at home, they’re still recovering from Amarantha and Tarquin needs m-”
“-But I- I mean we need you!” He stood from the log to look down at you, your sad eyes meeting his. Suddenly aware of the scene he was making he dissolved into shadow as you tried to call after him. 
“I better go-”
“No Cass, I'll go” you winnowed out of the clearing. 
-
Azriel crashed into his room in the House of Wind. Mixtures of emotions spinning in his head like the shadows around his heels. 
“Az” he whipped around to see you stood with your hands up chest level in surrender. 
“Here to pack your bags?” he chewed out. 
“Oh fuck off Azriel, don’t actually pretend you want me to stay” you matched his tone. 
“And why do you say that?” he snapped back.
“Because you’re the reason I’m leaving!” he took a small step back in shock at your sharp admission. He sat down on the edge of his bed, brow furrowing in thought. 
“What have I done to you?”
“What haven’t you done!? You go out of your way to make my job difficult, every motion I put forward you try to shoot down, you’re constantly following me watching every move I make waiting me to fuck up! Now you have what you want, I’m leaving!” you paced up and down in front of him, releasing the tension you held in your shoulders. 
“I don’t want you to leave” he sounded almost offended that you thought so. 
“What?”
“You really think I want you to leave…especially after last night” he stood from the bed, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing.
“I thought that especially after last night you’d want me to leave” You half laughed.
“At least I guess I’ve given you something to remind you of me” he gave the smallest smile, his hand sweeping your hair off your shoulder to look at his busy work as you felt yourself blush.
“Don’t leave YN, who would I play with?”
“Cass maybe” you grinned, something seemingly darkening in his eyes. 
“I don’t want to fuck him” he breathed out.
“That’s not what Rhys told me” You laughed again before noticing his serious eyes. 
“Please don’t leave me YN”
“And what will I tell Tarquin?” you chuckled, unsure what to do with Azriels edgy tone. His hand found yours, hazel eyes fixated on you.
"Tell him you're preoccupied" "With what exactly" he moved closer to you with your words ever so slightly rattling out of you.
“Az if we kiss…this might become more than what either of us wants”
"What if its what we both want?" he was mere millimetres from you now, unable to fight against this magnetic force pulling you forward. Something bubbling between you both, the electricity coursing through the space between you both again as you kissed so sweetly. Your eyes snapped open to find his eyes meeting yours, gently pulling back from one another. Mate. Mate. Mate.
“YN- you’re my-”
“-Mate” you breathed while looking at him with such unadulterated love. Azriel burst into laughter with you following suit.
“Now you really can’t leave me”
“How convenient” you smiled, running your hands through your hair, Azriel tracing the bitemark's outline with his heated gaze.
“Care for some stress relief YN?” Azriels hands went straight for your hips, the feeling of the small calluses meeting your soft sides sent pulses down you both. He met your neck, the same place he had last night, cupping his hands beneath your lower legs and lifting you from the ground, your legs wrapped around his waist
“Why can't I keep away from you?” You breathed, the hairs on Azriel’s neck standing on their end.
“Why does that make me so happy?” Was all he could manage before reconnecting to your neck. Azriel carried you to the bed before throwing you down and closely following in pursuit. You knotted your fingers through his hair and forced down the moan trying to escape at the pleasure of having him nip you. You tugged his hair until he pulled from you to face you.
“I want all of you”
Azriel cautiously lowered his mouth to yours until they met again. Much like the first time electricity coursed through both of you but unlike the last time, neither pulled away, only growing hungrier.
You could feel him hardening against your thigh, no longer able to fight the little victory you were going to give him, you moaned gently. He smirked hard into the kiss before it became more feverish. Your hand ran across him beneath the fabric of his trousers, his turn to groan.
“You're wearing too many clothes” he rasped as you smirked and pulled your shirt from over your head, he gently caught your jaw as he kissed along it. 
“I want revenge for these” you smirked, wrapping your leg into his side to flip him so you straddled him on top. Your teeth grazed his neck with heat as he sat up in the bed with you on his lap. He pulled his shirt from over his head, his hands replacing on your hips to support you, his groaning encouraging you on.
“Enough teasing YN, I need you” he said darkly, flipping you onto your back and yanking your trousers free from your legs to discard them. Azriel kissed you sweetly before moving down the shape of your body, peppering kisses along the trail to your entrance. You felt your legs begin to tremble under his touch, begging for more as his fingers began to play with your clit, your hands tangling in his hair with a moan. 
“You’re so ready for me YN, its intoxicating” he began to kiss around you and slowly his fingers began to move in and out while he sucked your clit. You felt the tension build in your abdomen, the greatest realess you ever had just a few movements away until he stopped entirely. You looked down between your legs to meet his eyes as he moved to hover above you again, discarding his own trousers in the process. 
“You’re so beautiful YNN” Your hand met the side of his face softly before pulling him back down into a searing kiss. Your fingers began to drag up and down his bear back before tracing the spines of his wings as they began to splay in their relaxed state. 
“Is that okay Azriel?” you whispered watching his eyes close with the building pleasure. 
“Nothing has ever been more okay” he leaned his head towards your hand, taking the waves of pleasure in his stride before lowering back down to meet you sweetly. 
Azriel slowly then began to enter you, you both almost meeting your release at the feeling. He slowly began to drag in and out as the sensation grew with its addictive nature, he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. The pressure growing and growing and growing, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your back arched until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name sending him over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name, collapsing next to you while riding out his high. 
“I had no idea how much I needed to hear you say my name like that YN” Azriel finally found some composure to rasp out, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you in. You tried not to cringe in embarrassment as you buried a laugh into his chest. 
“Don’t go shy on me now” he laughed, kissing the top of your head. You rolled onto your elbows to look into his eyes as they lit up for you. You hauled the duvet up around you, leaving a small corner for Azriel to tug at.
“Why must I be mated to a blanket thief?”
“Why must I be mated to a pain in the ass?”
-------------------------------------------------
Whatcha think friends!
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azrielsdove · 6 months
Text
Cold Hearts Pt. 2
Warnings: Some graphic violence, angst
Pt. 1 Here | Pt. 3 Here
***
You cried until the sun set that night. You knew you hadn’t been that nice to the Shadowsinger, but you didn’t think you had given him such a poor impression. You never imagined that he would ever say anything to you like he did tonight.
The worst of it all was that he was right.
You were cold to everyone, never really letting anyone get that close. Feyre had gotten the closest, but you backed off as she started falling for Rhys, letting her work through her feelings.
Rhys. Your greatest friend. Even he had distanced himself from you, distracted with his beautiful High Lady. You couldn’t blame him, you knew he deserved a love like that. After all he had gone through, the least you could do was give him time with her.
Azriel had clocked your jealousy.
Yet it wasn’t in the way he thought. There was never anything romantic between you and Rhysand. He saved your life, and you were forever grateful to him. You were jealous in the same way you were jealous of Cassian and Nesta. Of Amren and Varian.
They had love.
Something you knew would never be yours. Not after what happened the last time you thought you found it. You felt the pain as if it had happened just yesterday, the trauma of it all still fresh.
You weren’t supposed to be out here. You were very aware of just how bad it would be for you if you got caught. You couldn’t help the draw to learn, though. You wanted to be strong, powerful, brave. You watched the Illyrian soldiers train all day in between your chores, amazed at how deadly they were. You wanted to be like them.
So you began sneaking off, late into the night. You would go to the edge of the wood, practicing the moves you had seen them do. For the first time in your life you felt in control. You felt like you could be more than a docile little Illyrian wife.
You had been lucky, your wings had not been cut. Your father wasn’t a kind man, but he didn’t think they should be cut unless there was reason. If you were trying to run away, or train….well. You made sure he would never know. You were very careful.
Then you met Gannon. He was dark and handsome. He was kind to you. You fell fast, and you fell hard. He told you he was going to ask your father to take you as his bride, and for the first time you saw yourself as the perfect Illyrian wife. With Gannon by your side, you thought you would live a happier life than most. He had never said anything about you still having your wings, allowing them to exist as you did.
You decided to trust him with your secret. You brought him into your little corner of the wood, showing the makeshift weapons and little training ring you had created over the last couple years. You turned to him with a broad smile, hopeful for his reaction. He had wrapped you in his arms and swung you around, laughing. “My little Illyrian soldier!” He had said, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.
You were truly happy.
Or so you thought. A few nights had gone by since you showed Gannon your training area, and he had agreed to meet you tonight to help you further. You could hardly feign sleep, excitement bubbling in the tips of your toes. Once you were certain your parents were out for the night, you crept out of your house and ran to the wood. You burst into your training area, spotting Gannon right away. He opened his arms for you and you ran right into them, wrapping yours around him.
This was bliss.
Then you felt the blade, slicing up through the base of your exposed wings. You cried out, Gannon holding you to him tighter. “Hush now, my little Illyrian soldier.” He whispered, the words not nearly as sweet as they had been a few days prior. You heard a cold laugh from behind you, realizing you weren’t alone. The other male shoved a piece of leather into your mouth, muffling your screams as Gannon severed your wings.
He moved slowly. So, so slowly. You felt every millimeter of your wings rip away from you. You realized the other male with you was your father. “You were told only well behaved females got to keep their wings. It was a grace I had given you, out of the kindness of my heart. And you betrayed me. You disgraced this family, you undermined me.” His words were cruel, cold.
One wing dropped to the ground.
You screamed against the leather as Gannon began on the second one. “Did you really believe I would take a wife who thinks she knows better than me? Females do not train. You’re lucky i’m considering still taking you after this.” You were shaking in his arms, vision beginning to black out at the pain. You were ready to welcome the sweet release of unconsciousness when Gannons blade stilled. One cruel hand slipped up under your chin, pulling your face up to look at him. “No, you will stay with us for this. You deserve to feel the pain after what you have done.” You cried as his blade resumed the destruction of your remaining wing.
The second wing dropped to the ground.
You let the tears flow silently, your back aching where the wings used to be. You felt your father come up behind you and rip the back of your nightgown open, not caring that the fabric rubbed against the open wounds. You smelt the fire before you felt it, screaming in panic as you realized what was going to come.
He was going to burn the remaining pieces on your back.
The fire touched the already pain-filled nerves, your hands digging into Gannons chest. You forced yourself to look into his eyes, wondering why, why did he do this? You had loved him, you had trusted him, and he has ruined you. You screamed against the gag in agony, sobbing as the fire finished its job.
You were done for.
Your vision grew black again, your body failing in Gannons arms. No, you were on the ground now. He had dropped you. Your eyes were open, but you couldn’t see anything. You heard a shout from your left, the sound of fighting. You hoped whoever it was would do you a mercy and kill you.
You felt the darkness wrap around you. You prayed to the Mother that this was her gift to you, willing your heart to stop beating. Two strong arms picked you up, cradling you against a hard chest. You didn’t even have it to care who was holding you, didn’t even care if they were friend or foe. You just let yourself fade into that darkest night.
The memory had the tears streaming down your face harder than before. Rhysand was the one who found you that night. You’ve never asked what happened to your father and Gannon, and he never mentioned it again. Rhys brought you here, to Velaris. He called in his best healers and they tried to help the scarring as much as possible.
Their efforts were futile. You were left with a heavily scared back, the most prominent of which were two large ovals, dark on your skin. All that remained of your beautiful, perfect wings. A daily reminder of when you thought you had found love and happiness. You can admit that you have kept to yourself in your years here. You understood why Azriel would see you as so cold. Rhys has been the only one who could get you to trust him, and even that had been a long battle.
When he had been taken Under the Mountain, you felt the same despair you had the night you lost your wings. You were scared without him there. You knew Cassian and Azriel were good males, but you struggled to be around them. They reminded you too much of Gannon. When Azriel had approached you to offer to train, you wanted to decline. You wanted to slam the door in his face and lock yourself behind it.
You couldn’t do it though. Not to Rhys. You had heard the message, the same as everyone else. You knew it was important for you to be trained, to be able to help Velaris if it was ever needed. It was the least you could do for the city that kept you safe.
Training with Azriel proved to be rather enjoyable. You started to like the Shadowsinger, not that you would ever show him that. You knew it was best to keep your heart close, no one could hurt you that way. You began feeling strong again, powerful. Training with an Illyrian solider was much more beneficial than just training like one.
And then he had touched you. He put his hand on your back and you lost control of yourself. Panic had taken over your body, your mind. You barely even remembered what was said between the two of you. You had looked at Azriel and seen Gannon. You ran from the training ring that day, locking yourself in your room and falling apart. It was all too much.
You went to Cassian after that, asking him to train you. He thankfully asked no questions and agreed. You didn’t know what Rhys had told the others of you, if they knew what happened or not. They were all perfectly cordial, but you never stuck around to get to know them any better. Maybe it was time you did, time you started trying to be friendly again.
When Rhys came back from Under the Mountain you were the first one to him. You had held him so carefully, the same way he had held you the night he found you. He had cried that she was his mate, the Cursebreaker. That she was his mate and she loved another. You lead him carefully to his room, staying there with him that night. You let him cry and yell and talk when he wanted, treating him how he had treated you. You knew as well as he did that there was no cure for a shattered heart.
You were happy when you heard Rhys was bringing Feyre to Velaris. You weren’t happy about the why, but you knew she would be better off here with him. You grew close to Feyre rather quickly, even going so far as calling her a friend. You were quieter than the others, and you knew what it was like to be heavily traumatized. Although really, everyone knew that feeling at this point.
You thought back to what Azriel said in the library, his words spinning round and round your head. You have always acted like I disgust you, always glaring at my hands. You hadn’t realized the way you were looking at him. You felt a horrible shame creep up your spine, realizing you had become what you feared. You didn’t glare at his hands because they were ugly. You didn’t even know you were glaring at them. When you had first seen his hands, the scars all over them, you could only think of your own. The scarring on your back. How easy it was for you to hide them, how much harder it was for him.
You were scared of anyone looking at you the way you had been looking at Azriel. You felt a new wave of tears at the realization, guilt beginning to eat you alive. You decided in the morning you would go find him, when hopefully everything is calmer. You finally laid down and closed your eyes, falling into a restless sleep.
***
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE ON PT. 1!!!! And THANK YOU to that wonderful anon for submitting this idea!!!! I know this is a little short, but I had to end it there to make pt. 3 work! I am probably going to continue to write tonight, soon our dear reader and az will get to talk 👀. Please keep sending comments and requests in!!!!
Also, I live in Alaska so I work off AKDT timewise. I also have a toddler so some days may be slower than others depending on her mood!! Thank you all again, I truly appreciate every comment, reblog, and like more than you know <3
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writeroutoftime · 21 days
Text
true love's kiss
pairing: azriel x reader
summary: when azriel is hit with a powerful poison what - or who - will be able to save him?
warnings: talks of death, angst
words: 2.8k (buckle up)
a/n: my first azriel story and I'm so excited!! this idea just popped in my head the other day, and I ran with it lol. it was so much fun to write, so I hope you have just as much fun reading it!
(p.s. requests are open if you'd like to send anything in!)
oOoOo
Without warning, your heart began to pump furiously and an uneasy feeling settled over your body. Your muscles tensed up, as if preparing for an attack, and only moments later, you noticed Feyre's glazed over eyes widened in fear. Lunch suddenly postponed, she shot to her feet and ran towards the living room while you, Mor, and Amren quickly trailed behind. 
Before you even stepped foot in the room, your suspicions were confirmed as the scent of blood and fear smacked you in the face. There was a brief space of time in which you mourned for the anguish Feyre would feel over an injured Rhys. However, the image of Rhys and Cass heaving an unconscious Azriel onto the couch suddenly seared itself into your mind. 
"What happened?" you whispered the words over the commotion, though it rang out loud and clear to the Inner Circle despite its wobble. 
"We were ambushed in Windhaven." Cass explained while Rhys reached into the void to call for Madja. "Az's side was struck with a sword, but it must have been laced with poison. One second he was standing behind me, and the next thing I knew, he let out a shout before collapsing almost immediately." 
Tears lined your eyes at the thought, and the pain didn't register when you dropped to the ground beside Azirel, hands hovering over his body. The dark swirl of shadows that nearly obscured him from view parted for you, allowing you access to their master. 
"Oh, Azriel." you breathed out, only distinguishable to you and his shadows. The later wisping gently around your face, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. You leaned into the gesture, wishing it was Azriel's palm against your skin. 
Suddenly, you felt strong arms pull your shoulders away from Azriel as Madja stepped in and took your place, her gaze instantly drawn to his wound. Meanwhile, your family stepped back in fear. Rhys held Feyre tight in his grasp, and Cassian offered you and Mor each a comforting hand.
The only sounds for the next few minutes were Madja's grunts and huffs as she did her best to treat the injury. You couldn't help but cringe into Cass' side as her hands turned a dark-red, tinted from the blood that should have long ago clotted. It felt like an eternity before the healer turned around to face all of you, her face worn. 
"I've done what I can to stabilize him, but the sword that struck our Shadowsinger was indeed laced with a poison I have yet to see. Unfortunately, it still seems to be working his way through his system. I can't say for certain how much time he has, but I will work swiftly to find an answer." she explained solemnly, taking in the pained expressions of you and your friends. "All I do know is whatever the cure ends up being, it needs to be a strong source of magic. I'm sorry I can't offer better news."
Rhys was the first to break through the stunned silence. "Thank you, Madja. C-can we move him somewhere more comfortable?" 
The healer nodded before taking her leave. In her stead, all of you gaped in shock before Rhys and Cass worked together to move Azriel to a bed where they thought he would be more comfortable. Once they got him settled, you pulled a chair up, next to his bed, a stack of thick, dusty books beside you. If there was nothing you could do at the moment, by the cauldron you would at least help Madja research a cure. 
When your focus couldn't get past the first few sentences on a page, you shut the book with a sigh and furiously wiped at your eyes. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter what you did. Carefully, you reached out and interlaced your hand with one of Azriel's, placing a soft kiss against the marred skin. 
"Please, please wake up, Azriel." you whispered into the room. "I don't know what we'd do - what I'd do - without you." you told him, praying to the Mother and anyone else listening to heal your best friend. 
As day bled into night, Rhys and Cass came into the room, trying to relieve you even just for an hour. They tempted you with food, rest, or even just a moment alone, but you refused. How could you leave Azriel alone in his moment of need? Eventually they got the hint, and slowly, the rest of your family began to take up residence in the room alongside you.
oOoOo
"How can there be nothing on this subject?" you shouted, tossing the book to the floor with a loud thump. 
The rest of the Night Court looked up at your outburst, their own eyes red and bleary from the hours and hours of research. It had been three days since Madja first examined Azriel, and even the experienced healer was coming up empty. With every hour that passed, you felt the hope in your soul drain even further.  
"There has to be an answer somewhere." Cass placated, stretching out his wings from where he sat. "Someone has to have used this poison before." 
"That doesn't mean they had to write the antidote down, boy." Amren spoke cooly from her spot, ignoring your pointed glare. 
"What is it, Feyre?" Rhys asked, taking note of her trance like state. She shook her head slightly at her mate before turning her attention to the rest of the group. 
"Well...I was just thinking. Madja said whatever the cure ends up being will have to be powerful, but maybe we've been thinking about this too literally. Maybe it's not an answer that can be found in a book. What has been a powerful motivator for all of us over the years? Was even the answer to end Amarantha's reign?" she asked, the group shuddered at the mention of the name of that devil. "Love." 
You stared at your High Lady, head titled to the side. "Okay, but how is that going to help us now? It's not like any of us don't love Azriel." 
"And it's not exactly a position we can give him." Mor chimed in. 
Feyre reached out a tattooed hand and grasped Rhys' hand. "Or maybe it is." she countered. "I don't know about here in the Night Court, but haven't you ever heard fairytales? True love conquering all with a kiss, and all that?"  
"Do you think it would really work?" you ask, your tone warm and face full of light for the first time in days. 
All eyes fell to Rhys and Ameren for guidance. The two shared a look, silently communicating their opinions on the matter, but it was Rhys who spoke first. "I've never heard of an instance of true love's kiss being the answer, but since when have we been known to do anything traditionally?" he said with a small grin, inspiring a soft chuckle in the room. 
"Well," Cass dragged out. "I would try, but I don't think Az would appreciate me waking him up with a kiss." 
You rolled your eyes at the general, before considering the impact of his words. "Doesn't that leave us with a problem? Azriel hasn't found his mate, so we're still stuck and unable to break though." A small pang shot through you at the idea of Azriel's mated to an unknown female, but you quickly tamped that down. This was a matter of life or death. 
All eyes of the Inner Circle turned to face you. Looks of disbelief, amusement, and even understanding from Rhys, came your way. You caved in on yourself, suddenly feeling your cheeks heat under the scrutiny. This was not the time for their games. 
"What?" 
Mor spoke your name, gently, as her hand reached out to grasp yours. "Do we really need to spell it out?" she asked in your silence. 
"Spell what out?"
Amren, having had enough of the tiptoeing, finally spat it out. "That you're in love with the Shadowsinger, and have been for decades. If anyone in this room has the power to break this curse, it's you." 
A laugh bubbled up and out of your throat at her words, born out of sheer nerves that shot through your body. "N-no, no. I am not in love with Azriel. I mean, yes, I care for him - of course I do! I love him the way I love all of you. I'd do anything to help, but I really don't think this is going to work." you stuttered and stumbled over your words, bashful from the accusation. 
"We've all seen the way you look at each other, y/n." Feyre spoke gently, her eyes soft and she stared at you. "I think you love Azriel a bit differently than the rest of us." 
Her words brought tears to your eyes. Yes, you were in love with your best friend - how cliche. It had been that way for decades, but you never had the courage to speak up and say anything to him. And now, all these feelings were being dredged up in such a tense situation. What if it wasn't enough? What if you weren't enough to save him? 
"Okay, fine, you've caught me." you conceded, throwing your hands up in the air as your voice grew thick and heavy once more. "Is that what you want me to say? That I've been in love with Azriel for years, and it's killed me to just stay by his side as just a friend?" a defensive anger rose in your body as you looked at each member of your family. "But you're forgetting an important piece to this puzzle. Just because I'm in love with Azriel, doesn't mean I'm his true love." 
With that, you ran out of the room, collapsing against the wall in the hallway. You tried to take deep, steady breaths to calm your breathing, but it did little to help the situation. A few minutes later, you heard soft footsteps come up to your side, and Mor pulled you into a giant hug. The two of you stayed in silence for a few moments, grateful for the anchor she acted as in the moment. 
"I know that was a lot to throw on you, and for you to have to admit to us." she spoke, softly and cautiously. "And nobody judges you for how you feel or how you're reacting." 
"I'm so scared." you confessed. "W-what if I try and it doesn't work?" 
Mor looks at you with a gentle smile. "What if you try and it does work?" she countered. "I think you underestimate the extent of Azriel's feelings for you. And, if, Mother forbid, it doesn't work, then we'll figure something else out." 
Her words gave you a sense of comfort and the courage to wipe your tears and walk back towards Az's room. Before you stepped back in, you gave Mor's hand a grateful squeeze then rolled your shoulders back. 
All talking ceased as you walked back in, and you knew your family had to have been discussing what to do if you didn't agree with their plan. But this was Azriel's life on the line, and you would do anything to protect it. Even if that meant having your feelings revealed, or rejected. 
"Okay, let's try this." you told the Inner Circle, calmly and with conviction you tried to convince yourself you had. "But, all of you are waiting outside." 
There were no laughs or jokes at your expense, which surprised you, especially coming from Cassian. Instead, they all nodded their heads and solemnly and filed outside to wait. On his way out, Cassian squeezed your shoulder and nodded. 
"Bring him back to us." he whispered, board line pleading with you to save his brother's life. 
When it was just you and Azriel alone in the room, you took a deep breath and crossed the space until you knelt before his bed. You took the moment to study his features. His hazel eyes, normally full of life and mischief, now were shut off from you. His skin looked more swallow and the rise and fall of his chest seemed to slow with each breath that passed. Even the presence of his shadows seemed dimmer as Azriel's life slowly drained before your eyes. 
With a shaky hand, you reached out to brush away soft tendrils of hair that had fallen into Azriel's face. "Can you hear me, Az?"
The air was heavy as you waited a response that never came. 
"We all miss you so much. I miss you - my best friend. I-I know it's not fair of me to ask, but just keep holding on, keep fighting. Please." you whispered, leaning down to rest your forehead against his body, gathering your courage. "Look, Feyre has this crazy theory about what could save you. It's uh, true love's kiss." 
Again, no response. 
"This was not the way I expected to tell you, not that I thought I'd tell you if I'm being honest. But even though I don't want to jeopardize our friendship, I'd rather have you alive and never speak to me again than gone forever. So, here it goes." you took a deep breath. "I love you Azriel, I think I always have. You are so good and kind, and the kind of male I've dreamed about for years. I-it's okay if you don't feel the same," you forced yourself to say. "but I thought you should know given our situation."
Not sure what else to say, you took one more look at the male in front of you, placed a gentle kiss against his cheek, and then dipped your head down to meet his lips. They were chapped against your own after a few days without enough water. Az's normal smell of cedar and mist was faint, but still there, and comforted you as it surrounded your senses. 
You poured as much love and hope into the kiss as possible before slowly pulling away, falling to sit on your legs. The next few seconds that passed seemed to stretch for hours, waiting for a sign, a movement, anything. Just as you were about to sag and give up hope, a loud gasp sounded next to you and Azriel's frame jolted up. 
"Azriel!" you shouted, watching as the color returned to his face and his eyes darted around the room. 
Those hazel eyes finally landed on your frame, and Azriel quirked a small, albeit, sleepy smile at you. "y/n." he whispered, holding out a hand. 
Wasting no time, you grasped onto the anchor for dear life, and the tears immediately began to pour down your face. "I can't believe you're awake. Oh, I was so scared for you Azriel. How are you feeling? Are you in pain? We have to get Madja and the other's here. I'll go-" you rambled, before being cutting off my Azriel. 
"Hey, hey, calm down." he soothed, pulling you up onto the bed, flush against him. "I feel fine, considering I was just on the brink of death." he chuckled. 
"Don't make jokes like that." you swatted at his chest. "We almost lost you." 
"Yeah, but you saved me." he said, looking down at you in awe. 
Suddenly bashful again, you began to stutter. "Oh, no, I didn't do much. It was all Feyre's idea, and we all were here helping to research." 
"But Rhys and Cass weren't the one's to bring me back with a kiss." he said, and you felt as though your entire body was on fire at Azriel's words. 
"Y-you heard all that?" 
"I did." he nodded, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "And, I can't believe it took us until now to say anything, but I love you, y/n." he admitted, turning your face so you stared into his eyes. 
As the words left Azriel's lips, both of your gasped. This time, however, it wasn't because of a sleeping curse, but because of the taught, golden thread you felt connecting your soul to Azriel's. Your mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, but the loudest one was "mate, mate, mate." 
You stared at the male before you in awe, and Azriel grinned. "My mate. My knight in shining armor." he teased, then leaned down to capture your lips once more. 
This time, the kiss sent butterflies to your stomach and you revealed in the feeling of Azriel's strong arms around your body. His kiss was long and unhurried, as though you had all the time in the world to explore. And as you kissed him back, you found yourself giddy at the thought of the rest of your immortal life with Azriel.
It was only when the doors had been thrown open and the rest of your family came stumbling in did you and Azriel pull apart. The two of you looked at each other, then busted out laughing at the shocked faces of your family. 
"It worked!" 
"You're awake." 
"The two of you are mates?!" 
Their voices all overlapped, and you felt Az sigh against you, hugging you close. Yes, your family was a lot, but they meant well. And now, you could live happily ever after. 
oOoOo
a/n: ahh, I'm pretty impressed by how quickly this went from an idea to a story! kinda feel like I rushed the end, but oh well! hope you enjoyed!
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daycourtofficial · 1 month
Text
One single thread of gold tied me to you
Pairing: Eris x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 6.2k | Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, piv, foodplay (chocolate), oral (f and m receiving)
Summary: After a century of waiting, Eris and his mate finally have a few days to themselves to accept the mating bond.
Author's note: this is technically part of my gingerfucker series but it can be read as a standalone. Big thanks to @basketoffish for help with plotting the idea for it and for helping me edit ❤️ The people have been frothing and yearning for this and who am I deny such want any longer?
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Eris never had good timing. Born too soon, bearing the brunt of his father’s cruelties. Born into a war he was too young to fight in, but too old to stay at home. 
All of his poor timing was worth it for this perfect opportunity. Beron would be away for three days and three nights to improve relations with Tarquin, the newest High Lord of the Summer Court. Beron went alone - he perceived it as much more intimidating to go alone (perhaps inspired by Tamlin’s appearance in the High Lord’s meeting a few years ago, winnowing in completely unaccompanied). Beron failed to recognize Tamlin’s appearance was much bolder - he knew he would face scrutiny, but still made an appearance without anyone at his side. Beron merely did it because he wanted to look more intimidating.
Nonetheless, Eris was able to send word to you with enough time for you to rearrange your royal appearances to carve out this time with him - an entire three day span, just the two of you. Three days felt like a lifetime when the two of you were only able to schedule hour-long secret meetings.
Once, in a desperate bid just to have your scent on him, you two had met for a total of twenty minutes.
Your rendezvous were often short, full of imminent risk and danger of being caught. Today felt like a blessing from the Mother, as if she were granting her star crossed lovers a vacation, a peek into what life could be like - what life will be like one day.
You two just had to be patient.
Even an entire court away, Beron would know someone from the Night Court was on his land. Perhaps not immediately, but he would know before your three days were over. So the two of you met in the Winter Court, in a cabin you were gifted a long, long time ago. A cabin you’ve gone to on occasion over the years, whenever you needed to get away and be alone. You had set the trap perfectly for your family - you were getting into petty squabbles the entire week, picking fights with Cassian and Mor left and right that left the two of them reeling with annoyance.
Your brother tired of it quite quickly, clocking it for what he thought it was. 
“Perhaps you should spend a weekend away, star.”
His tone was full of concern, for this was how you always were before retreating to your hidden cabin. Irritable, crabby, unable to have decent conversation with anyone without leading them into a spiral of anger.
“I’m fine,” you reply, intentionally clipping the words to make yourself seem in a much worse state than you were. “Besides, I have some scheduled meetings this weekend.”
Rhys nods, “Feyre has agreed to take over any duties you have that can’t be rescheduled.”
You perked up at that, feeling a little bad at the generosity of his mate. You hadn’t felt easy about this plan - preying upon your family to get what you wanted wasn’t a regular occurrence for you. 
But you refused to let any negative feelings about what you were doing get in the way of seeing your mate.
“Are you sure, Rhys?”
He waves a hand, “Go, please only return once you feel rested and headache-free. Cassian is quite adept at giving migraines.”
You smile, “so no one will bother me?”
He sighs at your continued questioning, “no, star. I think we’d be too afraid to bother you, except for Amren. And she’s in Summer for who knows how long.”
He stands up, crossing the room to you, his long legs practically gliding across the floor. He wraps you in his arms, squeezing you tightly before kissing you on the top of your head. He gently sways the two of you as you wrap your arms around him.
“Thanks, Rhys.”
He lays his head on top of your own, “just send word if you’ll be gone longer than a week. I just want to know you’re alive out there.”
This cabin was a frequent rendezvous point for the two of you, much cozier than the large clearings and forests you two otherwise frequent. The cabin was more ideal, however Eris couldn’t deny how incredible it felt to be inside of you as he leaned you up against various trees in the forest, the leaves crunching beneath his boots as he thrusted over and over into you.
His cock twitched at the thought as he walked towards the front door of the cabin. The door groaned slightly as he entered, marking his entrance. He felt the slight magical barrier ripple as he passed the threshold. He shut the door behind him, taking in the small, two bedroom cabin before him. 
The place was quaint and cozy, an insult he would use to describe Rhysand’s absurdly large and ornate homes, but for you it was a testament to how infectious the comfort you radiated was.
It permeated every surface - the walls, covered in various portraits and landscape paintings, along with shelves of books and trinkets.
His scent was stale from the last time he was here, but yours was fresh, as was the smell of some delicious meats and fresh breads. He closed his eyes and leaned his back against the door, catching a glimpse of you as you pittered about the kitchen. He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself a moment to think of what his life could be like if the two of you were ordinary fae. 
He would come home from whatever job he had, perhaps a scholar of some kind, leaving at the same time every day to come home to his mate. 
You two would clean your house together, bickering over your inability in any universe to put dirty socks in the hamper, and how in every universe feet would continue to make Eris shudder in disgust. In any other life, he would be thrilled to experience monotony with you.
But he’s not in another life, one of openness and free-flowing adoration, one free of constant plotting and scheming, earning favors wherever he can. He’s in this one - the reality where no one knows about the two of you, because once they do it will become an inter-court political nightmare. It is a life of stolen glances, hidden messages, and secret meetings under the moonlight, but it is a life that belongs to him, when for so long his life was not his own.
Eris would love you in all lives, your soul reaching to him in every iteration and reincarnation of the two of you. If the two of you were nothing but bacteria living on the same organism’s skin, he would find you. He would know it was you, no matter what shade of organism you wore.
The bond hums in your chest, tugging you to look towards the door where you know Eris is standing and watching. You continue the task at hand, not wanting anything to miss your notice. The bond deep inside of you grows more and more insistent, screaming at you to smell him, taste him, feel him, here, here, here. He’s here, in your house, and you need to look, look, look. 
You let Eris come to you, just as you always had, just as you always will. You’re slicing bread, placing the pieces in the bottom of the bowls when the smell of petrichor and caramel hits your nose, a warm presence at your back. 
“Good evening, my fox.” 
His face burrows into your neck at the nickname, melting into everything that was you. His arms wrapped around you, hands meeting yours. His fingers pull the knife from your grip, gently placing it down on the cutting board.
“What are you doing, my evening star?” His voice is purposefully low in your ear, causing goosebumps to trail down your neck, his hands warming your fingers. 
“I’ll give you three guesses.”
His soft chuckle warms your chest, the bond constricting around your heart at his amusement.
“Are you cooking?”
“Yes, Er.”
“I’m surprised your wraiths didn’t prepare anything for you.”
“They did,” you hum, turning in his arms, his amber eyes meeting yours, not quite certain of what they’re seeing.
His hands meet your hips, his touch warm on your skin, and you circle your arms around his neck, fingers raking through his hair at the root.
He hums at your touch, his face swooping down to kiss your forehead. 
You look up at him under your eyelashes, his nose and cheeks littered with freckles, mapping out where home was. You point your head in the direction of two large picnic baskets, one of which was opened for Eris to see various jars of jams and breads.
“Why would you-” his words fall short, his thoughts racing through his mind. They stream by in words and bits of phrases, but no completed thoughts make their way through the whirl and swirl of mate, food, and bond.
He short circuits, not quite grasping what you’re getting at.
“I have never gotten to cook for you,” you shrug nonchalantly.
His eye twitches, still not understanding.
“You’re cooking… for me?” His words come out slow and uncertain, as if the mere concept of someone choosing to do something like this was absolutely foreign to him. You nod slowly, not used to seeing Eris so incapable of understanding. 
“But if you-“
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll-“ 
“Yes.”
“Are you-“
“Yes.”
He stills, his thumb lightly brushing against your hip. Your eyes are open and bright, wanting to convey to him the certainty you felt. You lightly tug on the bond connecting the two of you and he rubs his chest at the feeling.
It’s quiet as the snow falls outside, unaware of the monumental decision you had decided on once Eris’s letter had arrived earlier in the week. You had spent the past few months researching traditional autumn foods, preparing for this day. You had known for quite a while you were going to accept the bond, you just didn’t know when the two of you would have the chance to spend more than a few fleeting hours together. You had sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother when you received Eris’s letter, soft prayers echoing through your mind each night ensuring this would all work. 
“Is everything ready?”
His eyes peer into yours, a vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see, even you. His words come out soft and slightly timid, as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off.
“Yes, we just have to bring the food to the table.”
“May I help?” He doesn’t move towards the food, but one of his hands twitches, moving imperceptibly closer to you.
“I would appreciate that.”
It’s quiet as you two move to the food, grabbing platters and bowls to bring to the table. Once the table is full, a three course meal laid out in front of the two of you, the reality set in a bit. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Eris, but you were slightly concerned you were forcing his hand with this. 
This was always ‘someday’, but now it was here and you didn’t know how he truly felt about it. That was until he grabbed your plate, placing the still warm pita in front of you. You placed a piece of pita on his own plate, and he looked at the baba ganoush before him, its texture so unlike anything he had seen in Autumn. “What do I do?”
You ripped a piece of your pita off, dipping it into the bowl, grabbing some of the baba ganoush on it before offering it to him. He inspects the piece, before doing the same with his own piece of pita, bringing the piece to your mouth. 
“Eat. This might be the last time we’re rational enough for food.”
The two of you bite down on the pita, the warmth of the bread with the chill of the baba ganoush, the smoky, rich flavor exploding in your mouths. The room immediately shifted with the scent of your mixed arousals, but the two of you ignored it. His fingers lingered on your mouth, swiping at your lips before ripping off another piece of pita.
Heat was coursing through your veins, Eris’s emotions thrumming through you at a higher intensity. He felt electric in your veins.
You continue feeding each other until the pita’s gone and your attention shifts to the bouillabaisse. In similar fashion, the two of you poured the soup into the bowls with the bread before setting them down. You were thrumming, every part of you screamed to be closer to him, your thoughts having a background loop of mate, mate, mate.
“How did you know about bouillabaisse?”
Eris’s words send heat through you - his voice, soft and low, the actual words not registering with your insatiable need for him.
“Beg your pardon?”
His smirk is feline as he knows exactly why you didn’t hear him, but he repeats his question with no teasing.
“I um, found it a few months ago - I was in Dawn and a little restaurant served it.”
You could feel the sweat on your brow as you watched Eris’s fingers bring another spoonful to his mouth. You thought about all the things he could do with those fingers, that mouth, that tongue-
“Nobody in Dawn serves this. It is a regional dish, more specifically it is only found on the seaside of Autumn.”
Busted. 
You take another bite of the soup, the flavors so different from Night Court cuisine, but you weren’t complaining. Several of the fish in the soup were only found along the coast of Autumn and Winter, some making it as far north as Dawn.
“I may have perused some Autumn Court restaurants when I was visiting once.”
Eris stretches out the fingers of his hand, moving his long fingers in torturous preparation before placing his hand on your thigh. His touch was so warm, you began pulling at the collar of your dress to let the heat escape, biting your lip to keep the moan from escaping.
“When were you allowed in Autumn?”
“Fine,” your voice came out sharp, the room much too hot for an interrogation, “I snuck into Autumn a few months ago trying to find something to make you for this. I tried a bouillabaisse at this incredible little restaurant and I paid them an exorbitant amount of gold to teach me how to make it and to not tell anyone I was there. I slipped back in yesterday to pick up the fish in this soup.”
His fingers dance about on your thigh, and you take a quick glance down at his pants, your body growing warmer at his cock pressing across his pants, desperate to be released. You can’t move your eyes away from it - knowing how it looked, how it felt in your mouth, how it tasted - you were about to start drooling before Eris’s hand came up and closed your jaw.
“Strip.”
Eris’s words were a demand, full of power and need.
“But we still have dess-“
Your words died on your tongue as Eris began unbuttoning his shirt, your eyes caught on his lean chest, littered with freckles. You were in need, too, practically salivating at your mate’s display of his body, and you can’t quite remember why you wanted him to finish the whole meal.
He huffs over to you, his hands grabbing the fabric of your dress, ripping it in half down the middle. You gasp as the cold air meets your skin, somehow making your nipples even harder.
You stare at him wide eyed, even more aroused than before. At this point, you knew your panties were doing very little to keep your arousal from coating your thighs.
“You took too long,” he snarls, undoing the ties of his pants.
You had begun pulling the remnants of your dress off your shoulder, but stopped to watch your mate hook his thumbs into his trousers and pull them down, letting his cock free. 
You move forward, ready to jump on Eris, but his hand on your chest stops you, eliciting a whine from you. His other hand grabs the molten chocolate cake you had made, slowly lifting it out of the ramekin. He holds it delicately in his hand, the other hand on your chest moving up to your hair, tugging gently on the strands to pull you towards him.
Your chests were touching, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He blazed with heat, his cock hard with need pressed into your stomach. His cheeks are dusted with pink and his blood was boiling inside of him, but he moved ever so slowly, his fingers meeting your chin. He looked into your eyes, the two of you the only beings in the world right now.
“My mate.”
Anything could be happening outside of the walls of this cabin. The snow could have all melted, a heat wave sending the Winter Court into chaos, and you wouldn’t know. All you would know was Eris’s gaze on you, mapping out every inch of your body so he can remember every detail correctly when he thinks about this once you two are apart. His thumb applied pressure on your chin, opening your mouth. He placed the cake in your mouth, whispering, “don’t bite, not yet.”
You moved your hands to his hips, holding onto him. One of his hands moves to help hold the cake up, his other holding onto your neck. He puts the other end of the small cake into his mouth and lightly tugs on the bond. You both bite into it, the liquid chocolate center immediately cascading down and coating both of your chests. You both make quick work of finishing the remainder of the cake, tearing and gnawing at the soft dessert until you finish it off. He catches your lips in a kiss, the taste of the chocolate a luxury on his tongue.
You jump, feet slipping slightly on the bits of chocolate that made it to the floor. Eris’s arms catch underneath your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips. He lays you down on the table, moving his lips from your mouth, down the column of your throat, down your chest. You’re pulsing with need, desperate to feel any friction from him. You thrust your hips up, desperate to meet any feeling of him against you. His arm moves across your hips, pushing you down against the table. He shakes his head as he keeps kissing down your stomach, lifting his arm for a ring of fire to take its place around your waist.
He skips over where you want him, instead moving his head down to your thigh, licking up towards your hips. His tongue was hot as it slid up your inner thigh, lapping up the chocolate that had dripped down it. Your breathing was ragged as you felt his hot tongue growing closer and closer to you, and it felt like it was getting warmer the further it moved up your thigh. 
You looked down at him, his amber eyes that were full of heat all you can see of his face as his tongue finally slips between your folds. You moan at the contact, throwing your head back and hitting it harshly against the table. The pain didn’t register, not as Eris - your mate - was moving his tongue as if he knew every part of you, as if he knew exactly how you felt as he would warm and cool his tongue at his leisure. He lifted his mouth just an inch, his words slightly muffled by your body.
“You taste of desperation. It’s delicious.”
You moan at his words, and he flicks your clit with his tongue. His hands warm on your thighs, pressing them further apart. He slips his tongue back through your folds, your hands gripping onto his hair to keep his mouth on you. He grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders before one of his hands disappears. You are writhing on the table, his grip on you lighting your skin on fire. The room grows heavier with the scent of his arousal, and you twitch your ears at the new sound in the room.
He was moaning into your pussy, the vibrations coursing through your body as you realized the hand that left you was wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously. The thought of him being so aroused at eating you out that he has to touch himself sends you over the edge, your thighs clenching over his ears as you finish on his tongue. Your breathing was heavy, and Eris’s tongue did not let up, lapping like a starved male. You pulled him up by his hair, bringing your face to his. Your tongue swipes into his mouth, tasting a combination of yourself and chocolate on his mouth. You grab his shoulders, deepening the kiss as you flip him onto his back, pressing him onto the table. His hands grip onto your hips, trying to push you onto him, desperate for any touch from you. He whimpers as you tug his hair, pulling him into you.
You place teasing bites as you move down his torso, leaving mark after mark in a line towards his happy trail. You purposefully rub your breasts against his cock, smiling up at him as he groans, your breath hot on his crotch.
You lick from underneath his shaft, your tongue slowly moving from the base to the tip before putting his cock completely in your mouth. He tasted like cinnamon with a little salt, the chocolate flavor on your tongue making him taste incredible. His hands move, gripping onto your hair as he chants your name - a prayer, a plea, you weren’t sure. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and his hips thrusted trying to push himself deeper into your mouth. 
You wanted to tease him about needing to touch himself while his mouth was on you, but you felt the same compulsions as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You resist the urge to move your fingers to yourself by digging your nails into Eris’s thighs, leaving half moon indents. His grip grew tighter on your hair, pushing your head down harder as he got closer to finishing, his moans filling the cabin as he finished, the hot taste of cinnamon filling your mouth and coating your throat as you swallow it. You pull your mouth off of him, his cock twitching again at the look you give him as you lick your lips.
He growled and you swiped your tongue up his still hard cock. He lunged for you, jumping off the table before his teeth sink onto your nipple, pulling the skin with his teeth. You gasp, pinching his nipple back in response. 
“Do you think there’s something there about eating to accept the bond and what we just did?”
You waggle your brows at him, but his eyes are a bottomless pit of black. Gone are the amber hues of fallen leaves, replaced by an endless void of hunger. You lean up to kiss him, the taste of both of you swirling between your tongues. You start walking backward, knocking into one of the chairs. He catches you, one arm hooking around your waist. 
His pointer finger moves up from your belly button to your neck, swiping up the chocolate left behind. He puts his finger in your mouth, having you suck the chocolate off. 
“Maybe we should get cleaned up.”
You smiled around his finger, swirling your tongue around it as you looked up at him from under your lashes. You nodded, taking his whole finger into your mouth. He breathes in deeply through his nose, his eyes swirling with desire before you. His other arm loops around your waist, carrying you through the cabin. Your giggles echoed down the hallway as Eris moved the two of you into the bathroom. He doesn’t set you down, shifting instead to hold you up against the wall with one arm while he turns the shower on. 
The water started cascading down the both of you, sweeping the remnants of the chocolate down the drain. Your feet hit the floor as Eris pushes the two of you forward, your back hitting the wall. The water fell over your face, making it hard to see him, but you could feel everything about him. You felt his skin on yours, your chests pushed together. You felt his emotions thrumming inside of you, bouncing everywhere, filling every available space. You had heard of the bond being accepted as an all-consuming thing, but you found any previous descriptions to be wholly inadequate. Every inch of you burned for him, thrumming with need to be near, to have him with you, to have him inside of you. 
He grabs the bar of soap from the shower, lathering it onto a wet washcloth before rubbing it against your body, rubbing the chocolate from both yours and his skin. 
“I never thought accepting the bond would be so messy.”
Eris’s hand guided the wash cloth across your shoulders, your sternum, before taking his time as he rubbed it against your breasts. His thigh slid between your legs, separating them. Lean muscle pressed against your cunt as you sank onto his thigh. His lips were on your mouth as you ground onto his thigh. He tossed aside the washcloth, his hands gripped your hips, harshly moving you against his thigh. 
“My beautiful, beautiful mate.” 
His voice was husky, echoing through the shower, further cementing that feeling he was everywhere.
“Gonna fall apart on my thigh?”
His lips move down your neck, teeth sinking into skin.
“We have all weekend for me to put every part of me to good use.”
You threw your head back, hitting the wall softly. One of Eris’s hands moves behind your head, cushioning the blow. His grip is unforgiving as he continues moving you, his thigh rubbing your clit so perfectly. Eris looked so beautiful before you, his pale skin a soft shade of pink from the heat radiating off of him. 
His irises have shrunk enough for you to see a slither of the amber you love so much. You could feel him thrumming in your chest and you swore if you looked down, the room would be alight with the gold tie between you two. You gripped his shoulders as he pressed his thigh into harder, sending you over the edge. 
You’re reeling from the orgasm, but Eris’s grip doesn’t let up. He uses his other leg to spread your legs again, and his hands move down to your ass, picking you up before sliding his cock into you. It feels right when he’s inside of you, the pounding in your head subsiding, the heat dissipating for just a moment before it was replaced with the need for more, more, more.
Your head moves across the tiled wall as Eris thrusts into you. You grip his hair, pulling his face to you again before kissing his mouth, needing to feel him everywhere. You’re all teeth as you nip and bite across his neck, up his jaw, on his earlobes. The shower does little to hide the whimper he lets out. 
His fingers grab your face, pulling you from his ear to his mouth. He kisses you hard and passionately before pulling out of you and turning you around. Your hands press into the wall as his hands roam down the sides of your body, sending chills throughout you.
One of his hands ran through your hair, wrapping it around his hand, the other wrapping around your waist, holding your back to his chest. The water streamed down the two of you, but you hardly noticed as he kissed your neck, pushing you against the wall.
You moan, pushing your ass against his cock. He growls as one of his hands traces from your hip down to your upper inner thigh, gripping tightly.
He bit your shoulder blade, pushing deeper inside of you. The pressure inside of you kept building, the water streaming across your skin growing hotter. Your blood was boiling, you weren’t sure where you stopped and Eris began. His thrusts became harder and more erratic, his fingers gripping so tightly you were sure they’d bruise. 
Eirs held you in an iron grip as he came inside of you, his release causing you to finish again. Arms braced against the wall as you panted heavily, Eris softly pulled himself out of you. His hands rubbed down your arms, and you stood up straighter, albeit on shaky legs. His eyes were roaming your body, looking over all the marks leftover from your tryst. The two of you were no strangers to rougher sex - most of the time you two were only able to satiate each other against a tree for mother’s sake. The tiles were no concern to you, but you knew Eris felt something deeper within him, guilt perhaps at how little control he had and the marks a reminder of that. Having a bond was new, but accepting the bond was utter chaos. A thousand emotions rattled through you, unsure of who they truly belonged to the most dominant ones were to protect and to fuck.
Eris slipped his arm out of the shower, his head going with it. You took the moment to gaze down at his ass, the little freckles scattered across it gave you the urge to bite the plump flesh. He came back in fully with a washcloth, and your gaze softened. You reach out, grabbing his wrist to stop him.
“Er, I don’t care, we’ll probably be going at it again in twenty minutes.”
Despite your protests, he broke free of the loose grip you had on him. He brought the cloth up under the water, letting it get properly drenched. 
“I know.” 
He moved the washcloth down between your legs, his touch impossibly gentle compared with the male who was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise moments ago.
“We’ve just never gotten to have this part before.”
You think back to all the times you two have met - in the woods, in secure cabins, in closets to find that he was right. Every moment alone the two of you had counted, and neither of you were ever able to linger for long after sex. 
Another thing the secrecy cost the both of you.
He looked to you, asking silent permission, and you nod. He moved the washcloth, cleaning the remnants of himself off of you. He rinsed the washcloth again before moving it across your skin - your stomach, your shoulders, your arms. He lingered, taking the time to clean every inch of you. He laughed, pointing out you still had some chocolate behind your ear. Once he finished, he reached to turn off the shower, but your hand stopped his. 
His eyes are assessing as you slowly grab the washcloth from him, your own eyes reflecting his previous question. He nods, and you start your own work of cleaning him. Your eyes trail his body, taking in how vulnerable he is in this moment. You hummed softly, the tune of some song you can’t recall the name of. The sound makes some of the emotions inside of you die down a bit, replaced by a calmer feeling. Eris tips his head down as you wipe at his back, the scars there almost mirrors of your own.
The cloth moves down him, but you stop to kiss a few of the scars on his upper back. Once you’re done, you drop the washcloth on the floor, wrapping your arms around his torso. Eris’s hand reaches out, shutting off the shower, but not making any indication he wants to move. 
Eris’s love sitting inside of you felt different to the love you felt for him - synonyms, perhaps. But not quite the same.
After several minutes, you grabbed some towels from the cabinets, offering one to Eris. He slings it around his hips lazily, lifting you into his arms. You had barely wrapped yourself in the towel before he scooped you up.
The two of you land on the bed, decadent in shades of blue across the massive sea of blankets and pillows. The only reminder that neither of you were in your home courts. Eris taps your chest, the reminder you felt about having to leave him leaking over to his side of the bond.
You two settle on the pillows, discarding your towels to lay beneath the large duvet. You climbed on top of him, settling on his chest. His cock grew hard again, and you moved so you could settle with him inside of you. 
You traced your fingers over his freckles, connecting them with your finger. “I can make constellations out of them,” you tell him. 
The roar has subsided enough for you to feel like a person again rather than a beast. You know it’ll come back, in minutes or seconds you weren’t sure, but you wanted to spend whatever time with him like this that you could.
Eris thrusts softly inside of you, watching your eyes look for patterns in the freckles across his cheeks.
“Perhaps you can make me a constellation that will always lead me to you.”
You chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him softly. Your mate. You feel the pit inside of you start to roar, but you swallow it down, opting instead to search inside of yourself, finding that golden thread tethering you to him, and pulling.
“It appears I already have.”
He flips the two of you, laying you on your back as he slowly puts himself inside of you again. He fills you up completely, reaching the base of his cock before stopping and just staying there. 
“Mm, Eris.”
He smiles, his arms landing on each side of your face, caging you in. He moves a few strands of hair out of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.
He smiles down at you, his freckles dancing across his face, the sunlight illuminating his hair to look as if it were made of flame.
His fingers tangle in your hair, lightly holding on. 
“You are everything to me.” 
His voice comes out soft and slightly shaky, as if the admission were almost painful. He began thrusting slowly, but this felt different. Anyone who had ever thought Eris Vanserra incapable of being soft should see him now.
“I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
His thrusts became faster with each word, but not harsher. 
“I will always take care of you.”
Your fingers grip his shoulders, your thumb softly rubbing the skin.
“And I you.”
You were reaching that peak again, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t feral, the need to satiate the physicality of the bond, but rather to remind yourself that you two were bound together, forever.
“I love you, mate.”
His words have you seeing stars, and you practically feel yourself leave your body, but you hear yourself say, “and I love you,” as Eris finishes inside of you.
He collapses on you, his cock still inside of you. You both are breathing heavily, unable to get enough air into your lungs. He collapses on top of you, his arms digging beneath you to wrap you in an embrace. 
No touch was enough, even as you wrapped your own arms around him, peppering kisses into the side of his head. The two of you lay there, eventually Eris peaks his head out from your neck to watch the snow fall outside the window. You think about the many lives you could lead with Eris Vanserra - how much simpler your lives could be if you were born of different circumstances. 
But those Erises wouldn’t be the one laying on top of you now. They wouldn’t have as sharp of a tongue as he does, or perhaps their noses wouldn’t slant the same way his does. You could lead a thousand lifetimes with a thousand Erises, each one different from the next. Your thumb grazes his cheek, deciding that easy was never meant for you. It was never meant for Eris, either.
In those thousand lifetimes, the only edge they have on this one is the ability for you two to be more free about your love. 
You wouldn’t have to return to your respective homes, glamouring the scent of your mating bond from those around you in a bid to mitigate the unwanted comments from those around either of you. Beron would be excited, an intercourt mating would come with tremendous benefits for him. Rhysand would be pissed, your entire family shocked at the secret, unable to bite their tongues from disrespecting your mate with the twisted truths.
Secrets can only last for so long. They all get spoken at some point, and one day everyone will know how you have been carrying Eris’s love for years, how it has carried you for much longer than you thought, and how it will still carry you wherever you need to go.
Even when it’s in the opposite direction of him.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 23 days
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Bluebird — Azriel x Reader — Part IX
Summary: Deciding to accept Azriel's offer, Reader's world as they know it is about to change. In more ways than one.
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Word Count: 8.5k
Warnings: Some suggestions of smut and heavy petting, but nothing too major!
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Azriel stared out of the huge wall-length windows of the River House, watching shadows move in the sunlight that bathed the estate. 
He hadn’t been to bed. 
In the mere hours since he’d left the human realm, leaving Y/N, their conversation and his offer behind…his mind was too crowded to sleep.
So he’d come to the River House, wind still clinging to his skin and clothes from hours of aimlessly flying, and found his family gathering for breakfast.
“Where have you been?” Cassian had asked him.
“Just flying.” Had been Azriel’s explanation. The questioning looks he’d earned in response had told him they all suspected something more was going on with him. 
And how right they were. He didn’t know why he was being cagey, why he couldn’t just be open with them about the human woman who had utterly captivated him—
It was scary, he supposed. To step out of the bubble they had around them, just the two of them.
But if Y/N did agree to come across the Wall with him…it was time to be open, honest.
As if on cue, a kick landed on his shin. Amren. 
“Cassian is supposed to be the absentminded one, shadowsinger,” she drawled. “Are you present?”
Cassian grinned at the jibe. “Someone’s grumpy because she’s hungry. Poor baby.” His eyes slid to Azriel, ignoring Amren’s glare. “Our miniature friend is right, though. What are you daydreaming about?”
Azriel became acutely aware of every present pair of eyes on him. Rhys’s. Feyre’s. Cassian’s and Mor’s, Amren’s and Elain’s. If Nesta had been present, she’d probably have stared, too.
Az cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. Never comfortable with so much attention on him. “There…uh…”
Rhys frowned, realising, at once, that whatever this was held weight. “Az?” he angled his head.
He must have been pale, because Feyre frowned and asked, “Azriel, are you well?”
He didn’t know why he was fumbling this so much. Perhaps because for all he loved his family, for all he’d stared centuries down with them, his feelings were things that he’d always kept tightly locked away, and they had respected that. If he wanted them to know something, they would know. If not, they wouldn’t ask. It was how it had always been.
But this was different.
He was serious about Y/N, and his first step in proving that was to tell those closest to him about her. 
He cleared his throat again, bracing his arms on the table. “There’s something I want you all to know.”
“We all know you have the biggest wingspan, boy,” Amren speared a slice of melon. “It’s hardly breakfast conversation—”
“Amren.” Mor cut her off brusquely. She was staring intently at Az. Could tell this wasn’t the time for jokes. “Go ahead, Az.”
Azriel clenched his fists at his sides. “I…I have fallen for someone,” he swallowed a lump down, far out of his comfort zone. “I’ve fallen in love with someone. A woman. A human woman.”
Silence.
The faces of his family gazed back at him, a mosaic of expressions varying from surprise to confusion to the twitching of baffled amusement. They were waiting for an explanation, or some indication that this was a rare, random joke that Azriel had decided to crack. And Az found that he couldn’t bear them considering that. He squared his shoulders, the severity not moving from his face. 
“Her name his Y/N,” he continued, heart thudding in his chest. “She hails from a village in the human lands, and she’s magnificent. She helps run her father’s inn. She plays piano stunningly…” stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. Facts were just spilling from his lips, dumping themselves on his friends. He clamped his lips shut, squeezing his hands together again. 
And once more, silence. 
Until Cassian peered closely at him and stated, “You’re not joking, are you?”
The shadowsinger shook his head. “No.”
Rhysand’s chair creaked as he sat up straight. “Well…how did you meet this woman?”
“When you sent me to the human lands to get an idea of the unrest there. I heard her playing piano late at night and I…I went back to hear more. And I kept going back, despite you telling me not to. I’m sorry for going against your order, Rhys, but I’m not sorry for the reason that I did.”
The High Lord and Lady shared a glance, clearly communicating mind-to-mind. Az wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they were saying. 
Mor cleared her throat, coaxing Az’s eyes to her beautiful face. There was kindness there, warmth. “And you say you love her, Az?”
“I do, Mor. Since I first met her, I’ve fallen harder and harder.” His cheeks burned a furious red. “I can’t deny that that is what I’m feeling. And that’s why I want to share this with you all.” 
The initial shock seemed to dissipate a little as shoulders around the table relaxed. Mor smiled broadly, and Cassian quickly followed. 
“No way,” the Illyrian General chirped. “That’s amazing, Az.”
“We’re happy for you, Az, of course,” Feyre added. “Just a little surprised.”
“You should bring her here to meet us,” Amren grinned, flashing white teeth. “If she can hack it.”
Her remark was as close as she would come to congratulating Azriel — but the sentiment was there, hidden amongst the words. 
Of them all, Elain was the only one who hadn’t spoken.
And Az…Az, for some reason, avoided looking at her. 
“Funny you should say that, Amren,” he quickly said. “I’ve invited her to come here tonight, after she’s closed up the inn. I want her to see Velaris at night, in all its brilliance.”
“So we’ll get to meet her,” Mor grinned wider. “This is great—”
“If—if she’s available to come, that is.” The shadowsinger quickly cut in. 
Because he had to be realistic and still consider the possibility that Y/N would reject his offer. And if that was the case…well, he couldn’t bear to think of it right now. 
He certainly couldn’t bear to share that particular detail with the others. Not just yet. 
“Well,” Rhys offered a smile, “if she is available, we’ll be delighted to meet her, Az. Really.”
“Yes,” Elain’s voice, soft and unconvincing, finally drifted around the table. “We will.” 
At the same moment, Azriel’s gaze drifted to take her in. She looked…shocked. Perhaps a little perturbed. 
But for what reason? She and Lucien were giving things a go. Shouldn’t Azriel be able to do the same?
He tore his eyes away from her, dipping his chin in quiet acknowledgement of her comment. That was all he could offer right then. 
“I hope she comes,” Feyre commented, sipping her drink. Her voice was bright, enthusiastic. 
“So do I,” Azriel agreed. 
Gods, he really did. 
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚ 
Ale sloshed over the lip of a tankard, joining the smattering of droplets that were already coating the floor and making it sticky. The rowdy men in your line of sight didn’t seem to notice the mess they were making amidst their rowdiness. They’d been here a good few hours, now. Their eyes had long turned glazed, their speech slurred.
It was all background noise.
Background noise, as you stood behind the bar, staring into space. Time was ticking by, the clock hands crawling steadily closer to when Azriel would arrive and wait for you with hope.
Ten o’clock chimed. Two hours to go. Were you going to join him? You weren’t sure. You’d been contemplating it the entire day, on so few hours sleep. You’d gone through the motions, done your jobs, been that normal, plain young woman who was in charge of The Bluebird Inn. You’d compiled pros and cons in your head, the list of them growing with each thought.
Pros and cons, however, seemed not to come into a situation driven so heavily by desire. 
You wanted to believe Azriel so badly — believe that he was good. Was it so out of the question that such a thing could be the case? It didn’t diminish what you had seen out on the road with your father, but…
But after weeks of no contact, having Azriel close enough to touch last night…it had you hoping, once more, that both things could be true. That the world was not so black and white, and there was colour out there, a world of colour that Azriel could fly you right into—
Before you realised what you were doing, your hand was grasping the bell behind the bar. You tugged at the rope, causing a distinct ringing to cut through the arrogant raucous of the men. 
“Last orders!” you called. 
Every pair of eyes swivelled to blink at you. “What?” One man asked.
“Last orders,” you repeated. 
“But it’s only ten o’clock! You don’t close until midnight!”
It was an effort not to roll your eyes. This group had been here since they’d stumbled in from their day’s work. The idea of cutting their drinking short was inconceivable to them.
But you were going. You were going to join Azriel, and go across the Wall, and experience things you’d never experienced, whether it was a good idea or not.
“I’m closing early tonight,” you gave a shrug. 
The brute that had been spilling ale all over the floor gaped at you. “Why?”
Good question. You couldn’t exactly tell them the truth, and if this was going to get back to your father, you at least needed a valid excuse—
“I’m unwell,” you tried unconvincingly. “Sorry.”
Swine-like eyes narrowed on you. “You don’t look unwell, girl.”
“…It’s my cycle.”
A silent pause. And then, in an instant, every man in the room was on his feet. You tried not to smile in triumph; it worked every time.
They couldn’t leave quick enough, as though, if you truly were on your cycle, it was somehow contagious. You saw the last customer out of the door and bolted it shut. Waited until their chatter disappeared into the distance before you turned and began a frantic cleanup mission. 
This was…mad. Truly, thrillingly mad. A reckoning of sorts, you imagined, because crossing that boundary from one realm into another was like sealing a fate. There was no coming back from this — this, that was not merely dipping your toe into the world of the fae, but submerging yourself in it, taking a deep gulp of air and disappearing beneath its surface. A nerve-wracking prospect, but…also an exciting one.
And didn’t it prove to you that you still trusted Azriel at least a little? You had to, surely, to be so willing to take his hand and let him pull you into the unknown. 
Perhaps…perhaps you were tired of having that little bit of doubt. Tired of wondering what might be out there, beyond your meagre existence. This trip would surely put those doubts to bed, one way or another. 
Two hours until Azriel’s arrival seemed both too much time and not enough at all. You filled it with your usual closing duties, making quick work of tidying up and making sure the inn was spotless. Afterwards, you would ordinarily spend some time at the piano, or simply retire to bed. Tonight, your feet carried you upstairs to get ready. 
You combed your hair and changed your outfit choice too many times, not once recognising the girl who stared back at you in the mirror. She was somebody bold and daring — somebody willing to question what she’d always known. 
And you wanted to be her, no matter the fears twisting your stomach. 
Once ready, there wasn’t much time left to wait. You quelled your nerves by knocking back a glass of whiskey and welcoming the burn. Your eyes stayed on the clock. Eleven-thirty. Thirty-five. Forty. Fifty-five. 
When you heard the distant chimes of the village clock announcing midnight, you felt that familiar sensation of awareness. Like an ember under your skin, it burned, and it spread. 
You wiped whiskey from your lips and slipped out of the door, stepping into the courtyard. You were cold, despite the warm night. 
And even colder when you felt the gust of air that came from a descending figure, landing feather-light in front of you. 
Azriel was almost too beautiful to bear. 
You stared at him with an intensity you couldn’t keep a lid on. And he stared back at you, took in your shirt and breeches, your braided back hair, your shoes. He clocked within a second that you were dressed to go out — a breath of relief forced its way out of him. 
“You’re coming?” he breathed, and then shook his head, seeming to remember his manners. “Sorry. Hello.”
You swallowed. “Hello.”
He paused. Dared a step closer. “I half expected to find you in your nightgown. Or to not see you at all.”
“I…contemplated it. Not coming, I mean.”
Another step. “And what tipped the scales in my favour?”
You sucked in a breath, inhaling his scent. He was close enough to touch, now, and the smell of wind mixed with his natural aroma, creating a dizzying concoction that, for a moment, had you forgetting how to speak. 
You shook yourself out of it, blinking a few times. “I think I’m tired. Tired of…only knowing what I’ve been told. I think it’s time I saw things for myself.”
Azriel’s broad shoulders seemed to relax a little. A beat passed of heavy silence, heavy eye contact. He stared at you like you were the only person left in the entire world. 
And then you jolted just a little, as cold, scarred fingers touched yours in a light, tentative brush. He waited to see if you would pull away. 
You didn’t. 
Those fingers explored more. Wrapped around yours. Laced with yours. And then Azriel was holding your hand in his. 
“Let me share my world with you,” he whispered.
Maybe it was the weight of his hand, or maybe the raw pleading in his tone. Whatever it was…you knew you didn’t need any more time to consider. 
“Yes.” Was all you managed to respond. “Yes.”
Just like that, Azriel was yanking you closer, pulling your body flush to his. You waited to feel your feet leave the ground, for him to lift you into the air. 
It took you a moment to register that his arms were winding around you tightly in an embrace. That it was a hug he’d so fiercely pulled you into. 
He held you, both firmly and gently, his chin pressed to the top of your head, his hand cradling the back of it. You were stunned, stiff as a statue — but then you were sinking into his hold and welcoming its security, its…passion.
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” Azriel murmured, pulling back to gaze at you. “Truly — thank you. For trusting me with this.”
“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” you pointed out. “I just want to see for myself…if what you’re saying is true.”
But even as you spoke, you knew it wasn’t that simple. Heading across the Wall with Azriel was sealing a fate far bigger than you’d stopped to consider. Whether you were ready for it was anyone’s guess.
The shadowsinger took your words in his stride, nodding. His hand found yours again. “Shall we go?”
You were really doing this. The idea made your head spin. 
But you did not pull away. You did not run back inside, no matter how much a tiny part of you screamed at you to do so. Perhaps you were stronger than that now. 
“Yes,” you nodded, and braced yourself. “We shall.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Flying was precisely as you remembered — exhilarating and terrifying and cold. The night sky eddied past you in a star-streaked blur, and you were soaring, hurtling forwards towards a world unknown. 
You and Azriel did not speak. He seemed content to leave you in your thoughts, though you felt his gaze on you more than once, drinking you in. You couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. Whether he deliberately chose to press you firmly against him and rub soothing circles into the small of your back, or whether it was a subconscious thing. 
You closed your eyes at one point, focusing on the feeling of the chilled wind on your face. 
But it was another feeling that had you suddenly alert. Opening your eyes again. 
It was hard to explain, but…something like a staticky charge crackled and sparked. You knew that the Wall was not a physical thing to behold, but rather an invisible barrier…yet somehow, you knew that was what you were feeling. Like a huge sign in bold, screaming at you: TURN BACK. DO NOT COME ANY CLOSER.
“I can feel it, too,” Azriel spoke into your ear, as though he’d read your thoughts. It was the first words that had left him since he’d carried you to the skies, and they were soothing and warm against you. “It’s the magic. Those who built the Wall abhorred the idea of humans and fae alike crossing over. I think the feeling it offsets is supposed to repel people.”
You held onto him a little tighter as the feeling grew stronger. “Clearly it doesn’t work.”
“No.” His eyes found yours. “Not when there are such enticing reasons to cross.”
You were thankful that the wind put a stop to the furious blush that crept up your neck. You stared forward, and Azriel’s arms tightened around you, and you knew that you were about delve into another realm. 
“Ready?” he murmured, before that charge thrust its way through your body like a bolt of lightning. 
It was brief and yet nauseating. Your stomach lurched, your head spinning. And then, as if clearing fog, it was gone. You had the distinct feeling of being someplace completely alien — a place where the grass was greener, the scents richer. A place where magic was the blood in its veins, snaking through the ground beneath you and breathing vibrant life into the land. 
But you had barely a chance to take in your surroundings before Azriel was coaxing your eyes back to him. 
“Now that we’re in Prythian,” he said, seeming to visibly relax, “I’ll winnow us from here.”
You gave the briefest glance to your surroundings — a forest so like the many in the human realm, and yet also something more. The thrum of dangerous life seemed to lurk just beneath its surface, and with the moon bearing down on you, you didn’t much like the idea of waiting around to see what might emerge from the dark. You dipped your head into a nod, and Azriel’s arms tightened around you. 
But before he could make a move, you were speaking, stopping him in his tracks. “There’s something I don’t understand.”
He paused, head angling curiously. It made a few dark hairs slide across his forehead, and the urge to reach out and touch the silken strands was a burning one. 
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You want to show me your home, but why show me at night time, when the world is asleep?” Besides the fact that this was the only time you could sneak away from the prying eyes of villagers.
But Azriel’s mouth seemed to lift into a subtle, beautiful smile. One that was telling — but telling of what?
“Velaris does not sleep,” he said, and then you were disappearing into starlight.
A brief burst of darkness that lurched you from place to another. The feeling of both flying and falling, of being nowhere and everywhere all at once. And then your feet were suddenly on solid ground. 
You didn’t realise you’d closed your eyes until the sounds hit you first. Distant music, mingled with crisp laughter. The sounds of enjoyment, fulfilment. You snapped your gaze open to put a picture to what you were hearing. 
You went so preternaturally still, you could almost be mistaken as fae. 
You must have been perched upon a viewpoint, to see the city in its entirety like this — but not too far up to miss the details. Restaurants teeming with activity both inside and out front, gatherings of customers who talked and smiled and laughed without a care in the world. Vendors selling their wares despite the late hour, peddling anything from food to wooden carvings to flowers. People wrapped in each other’s arms and dancing merrily to a song that a young female strummed on a lute in the busy street. 
If not for the dark blanket of stars above your head, you could be forgiven for thinking it was daytime. Your shoddy little village was never this bright nor light, no matter the hour on the clock.
This was Velaris, and it truly did not sleep.
You stared and stared and stared, for so long that your vision began to blur and smear the lights below into swirling shapes. It was almost easy to forget you were alone, just you observing this beautiful, seemingly perfect world. But a hand touched your arm.
“Would you like to take a walk?” Azriel asked, coaxing you to look at him.
Such palpable hope sat within his gaze that you couldn’t bear to look away. And when you nodded your agreement, that hope shifted into damn near elation.
The city seemed to welcome you into its arms as you began a slow stroll right through the heart of it. Azriel gave you your space, always remaining a few paces away. You could have sworn, in your periphery, that you caught him clenching his hands now and then, as though he didn’t know what to do with them. As though all he wanted was to reach out to you.
But he left you to acquaint yourself with the sights and sounds and sensations of Velaris. Never had you been amongst so many fae, and you half expected them to sniff out your mortality, to turn and stare or even make a grab for you. If they noticed you were not one of them, they paid it no mind, barely casting you a glance. Some of them greeted Azriel cheerily as they made merry and socialised. Not a drop of misery seemed to taint the blood of this living, pulsing place. 
You came to a stop on a grand bridge that arched over a glinting river, its waters stretching further out than your human vision could comprehend. Only a moment after you leaned against the carved balustrade, Azriel was emerging in your peripheral vision, stopping beside you and mirroring your stance. 
You could feel his gaze on you. And after a moment, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
A slow, stunned shake of your head was all you could manage. That was a question that had many different answers. You weren’t sure which one to give. 
But you found yourself turning to him, your brow pinched, lips parted. “I don’t understand how any of this works. What…what is this place?”
Velaris, obviously — you knew that much. But was the entire fae realm like this? Was this what had been hiding on the other side of the Wall in the centuries since it was established?
Azriel seemed to think on your question for a moment, combing through his answer. He angled his body towards yours, the way his hands twisted around each other hinting that he was…nervous.
“When I took you flying the first time, I mentioned that Prythian is divided into seven courts,” he explained slowly. “Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Dawn, Day and Night. Do you remember what else I told you?”
How could you forget? You’d turned it over in your mind enough that the words had begun to fray at the seams. 
“You said you’re from the Night Court. That you’re part of the High Lord’s inner circle. You’re his spymaster.” Your gaze swept around. “So this is the Night Court.”
Azriel dipped his chin. “It is. But it’s a city in the Night Court. A secret, guarded city. There’s more out there than just this.”
“Secret and guarded? Why?”
For a moment, silence stretched between you that felt as long as the winding bridge. You found yourself focusing on the ebb and flow of the water beneath you, watching its languid dance. Until warm fingers landed on your arm.
The touch — tentative and gentle — coaxed your gaze back to Azriel. You studied him, drank in the sincerity and openness on his face. This was hard for him, you realised — to be so forward, to bare all. He was, perhaps, as guarded and secretive as this city itself. Perhaps more. 
But his soft hazel eyes told you that he wanted to push through that difficulty. For you.
“It’s secret and guarded,” he answered huskily, “because it is beautiful and good, and the entirety of the Night Court is not. The entirety of Prythian is not. There are other places like this, of vibrancy and love and light, and then there are places of pure, evil darkness. Places that I would never dream of you venturing. They exist as truly as the good places do. As Velaris does.”
Once again, your eyes took in the area around you. On the other side of the bridge, a couple were hunched over a table, in their own world, sharing quiet words and quick kisses. A few buildings down, a group of friends roared with laughter as they spilled out of the door, arms around each other and happiness on their faces.
This place was beautiful. It was…life. 
And the existence of darker places did not change that, did not steal its essence. Good and bad both simply existed. In people, and in places. 
Just like in the human lands. 
Just like Azriel had been trying to tell you all along. 
“There’s good and bad everywhere…” you murmured quietly, the words sinking in, hitting home. How could you deny it when the people here clearly were not scared, not running and screaming and begging for their lives?
There was movement, and you felt Azriel’s side press against yours. “There is.”
And you could see it now, like a fog had been lifted. But there was still one pressing question that plagued you. One you couldn’t tamp down on as you angled yourself towards Azriel proper.
“Why bother, though?” you asked, studying him. “Why go to these lengths to prove this to me? You don’t owe me anything. Why…why would you bother taking the time to make me see this?”
Azriel gazed back at you, something burning in his eyes. He pursed his lips, like he was trying to force his words back down, trying to stop them spilling out. 
A fight he ultimately lost. 
“Because I am selfish,” he said, staring at you fiercely. “And I couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to see you anymore. Of you thinking I’m a monster. I would not care if anyone else were to think so, but…”
“…but what?”
“But not my Bluebird.” His voice was raw, raspy. He reached out cautiously, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Not my Blue.”
A breath shuddered out of you, and with it went your resolve. You knew you could no longer fight what been pressing you for a while, now. Could no longer deny what was right in front of you. 
You cleared your throat, feeling the shivers that pulsed through your skin with Azriel’s hand still hovering so close to it. So badly, you wanted to lean into it. But you forced your gaze back to the brilliant city of Velaris. 
“Life seems so lovely here,” you admitted, your voice surprisingly hoarse. 
“It is,” Azriel concurred. “It really is. And you, Y/N…you deserve loveliness.”
You stared fiercely at the water, begging yourself not to get choked up. You’d never had loveliness. 
A warm, comforting hand pressed against the small of your back. You shamelessly allowed it to. 
“Would you like to meet my family?” the shadowsinger asked.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You were going to be sick — and not from the flying.
Your feet touched down on a beautiful, ornate estate — grass trimmed and decorated with fountains, ornaments, decorative hedges. Trees and obscure plants and beautiful flowers. Never had you been anywhere so grand. 
And before you — a huge, stunning house of pillars, winding staircases, giant windows and just…pure opulence. It intimidated you just to look at. 
“This is…this is where they live? Your…High Lord and High Lady?” The words felt foreign on your tongue. 
“It is.” As Azriel stepped up to your side, you realised his arm was still wrapped around you. “Did I ever tell you she used to be human — my High Lady?”
Your gaze shot to him in a flash. “What? How is that possible?”
“It’s a long, elaborate story that I’ll allow her to tell you, when she feels like it. But it’s true — she and her two sisters were once human, and they were all turned fae.” 
A thought that set your heart thudding at a gallop. Had they once been lowly village girls, like you were? You hadn’t considered that you might have anything in common with these people.
“Shall we?” Azriel’s arm tightened around you, and you welcomed it. You needed the grounding comfort.
With a deep breath and a nod, you allowed yourself to be led up the broad stone steps that trailed up to the mammoth front entrance. You followed Azriel’s lead, wide-eyed as he opened the front door like it was his home, also, and led you inside. 
The interior was, unsurprisingly, as decadent as the exterior, but you found yourself too nervous to take in any details beyond polished marble flooring and huge, painted portraits that hung on the wall of beautiful beings. You did, however, stop to take in the portrait that was undoubtedly Azriel. 
“Feyre — our High Lady — is an artist.” Azriel stopped beside you. “She painted all of these.”
“And a damn excellent artist, too.” Behind you, a voice of pure, cloaked night echoed through the giant room. It added with a hint of glimmering humour, “Not that I’m biased, of course.”
You turned at once, knowing that such a voice could never come from a human. Your heart almost stopped at the sight of the male who leaned against a carved arch, and you blushed furiously at the thought that he could probably hear such a thing. 
He certainly resembled Azriel, in his golden skin and dark hair. But his eyes were of a stark, peculiar shade — violet — and his ears very much pointed. Something about the smug ease with which he stood screamed at you that this — this was the High Lord of the Night Court, looking regal in a black button-up shirt and dark trousers. 
And beside him, a woman — female — of such otherworldly beauty, it was hard to imagine that her golden-brown hair and blue eyes had ever been dulled by mortality. 
“He is biased,” she said with a soft smile, fondness in her eyes. She drank in the sight of you, and there was no judgement, no disapproval — just simple curiosity. “Y/N. Welcome to our home.” 
“This is Rhysand and Feyre,” Azriel explained beside you. “High Lord and High Lady.”
“Rhysand?” The High Lord echoed jovially. “You sound like Feyre when she tells me off. Just Rhys will do,” he sketched you a flourishing bow, “and as my beautiful mate said — welcome to our home.”
“I…I’m afraid I don’t know the customs, where greeting a High Lord or Lady is concerned,” you cleared your throat. “But thank you for having me.”
Feyre smiled warmly. “You’re very welcome. Shall we get a drink? The others are waiting.”
Your stomach turned with nerves, but you nodded. As Azriel stepped forward, falling into stride with Rhysand, Feyre stayed behind, turning to you. 
“It’s nerve-wracking, isn’t it?” she smiled at you gently. “I had already been turned fae when I first came here, but…I can’t imagine coming here as a human who’s never had much to do with our kind.”
Our kind. Clearly her mortal roots were but a distant memory. 
“It is,” you agreed. “This is…hugely out of my comfort zone.”
“Just stick with me, Y/N. But you have nothing to worry about.” Her smile grew. “We’re all just happy that Azriel has found someone. Even Elain.”
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Even Elain. What the hell did that even mean?
It stuck in your mind as you held yourself through introductions, your curiosity such that you were waiting for an Elain to be introduced to. But through the names that were thrown at you — Cassian, Amren, Morrigan, Nesta — that one did not come up. 
The tiny Amren was terrifying despite her small stature, and yet you found her quick wit and remarks to be personable. Morrigan — Mor — had invited you to sit with her the second the introductions were over, and she seemed almost…excited by your presence. Cassian was jovial, warm, quickly making it clear that he would joke and banter with you as much as he would with his family. 
Ironic, then, that the least forthcoming with any warmth was Nesta — who surely could relate to your humanity, even if her own was long gone. 
She’d barely spoken to you beyond a terse greeting. And since then, she’d stared you down from the other end of the table. You couldn’t help noticing that her eyes continuously darted to the round edges of your ears. You couldn’t read the ferocity in her gaze.
It was an effort to ignore it as conversation bloomed around the table.
“So he was just hovering above your inn like a little creep?” Cassian’s broad grin was savage, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he plied you with questions. “You should have shot him down with an arrow. Taught him a lesson.”
Your lips twitched as you answered, “Somebody else saw to that. I just ended up helping him.”
“Boo.” The Illyrian warrior snorted. “How boring.”
Beside you, Azriel rolled his eyes, but a soft smile played on his lips that told you he rather enjoyed the teasing. You couldn’t help relaxing at the…normality of it all. How easy and light and warm this conversation was.
How naive you had been, to assume that the fae were simply cold, severe beings. The furthest thing from this loving family unit. It didn’t even seem to be a bizarre circumstance to them, that they had been gathered to meet at such a late hour. If not for the huge windows letting the night sky in, you’d be forgiven for thinking that their energy and enthusiasm was indicative of day time.
“From which village do you hail, Y/N?” Feyre asked you, sipping from her wine. You’d tried not to stare too long at the casual intimacy between the High Lord and Lady — the little touches you so naturally wanted to mimic with the male beside you. She added, “Perhaps Nesta and I would have heard of it.”
At that, Nesta lifted her chin a little. You could have sworn a glimmer of curiosity streaked through her eyes, there and gone in an instant.
“Northern Swancross.” You answered, eyes darting around the opulent dining room. “It isn’t anything grand. “Most of its residents are living in poverty.”
Feyre sipped her drink, offering an understanding nod. “Perhaps too far north for us. I don’t recognise the name—”
“I do,” Nesta said sharply — the first time she’d really spoken to you. “I remember reading a pamphlet once, about fae attacks on human villages. Northern Swancross was named in regards to an attack there a couple of decades ago.”
Silence and stillness filled the space that conversation had lit up moments before. Your mouth went dry. You felt the cool touch of a shadow caressing your arm.
“That would have been my mother,” you answered, clearing your throat. 
Nesta stared at you a long moment, a slither of what seemed to be…solidarity…seeping through the cracks of her icy reception. She lowered her chin in the slightest of dips, and somehow, you knew exactly what that minute gesture communicated. We have both suffered at the hands of the fae. And yet, somehow, here we both are.
“That’s awful,” Rhysand’s voice cut through the moment, quiet and laced with sympathy. “I’m sorry for the loss of your mother. We all are.”
You nodded. “Thank you.”
“Nesta, Elain and I also lost our mother,” Feyre supplied. “To illness, rather than to the fae. But we understand what the loss of a parent is like. Many of us here do.”
A kind and heartbreaking sentiment, and yet all you could focus on was the mention of that name again. Elain. She must have been the third sister. 
You didn’t know why you felt such preying curiosity about her standing in this group…or her standing with Azriel, and why her support for his happiness was a thing Feyre felt was worth mentioning. You couldn’t stop yourself wondering if her absence was a deliberate thing. 
As if she’d read that thought, Feyre cleared her throat. “You’ll have to forgive Elain’s absence. She’s not much of a night owl.”
“Despite living in the Night Court,” Cassian added, and his booming chuckle at once chased away the tension that had seeped into the room. He grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his glass. “So tell us more about you, Y/N.”
You did exactly that — and found yourself peculiarly willing to do so. Such a sheltered life you’d lived with no one to truly call a friend, that it now seemed that years of pent-up conversation came flooding out of you. And as hours ticked by, pedalling closer towards morning, you found yourself relaxing, forgetting that you were human and they were fae. They were just…people. Kind, good people. 
And in turn for the information you shared with them, they told you about themselves, answered your questions, explained things you didn’t understand. Mor spoke to you like she’d known you for years rather than minutes. Even Nesta’s reservedness began to thin into something more cordial. One-by-one, the High Lord’s Inner Circle pulled you into its fold as if a place for you had been carved there for a very long time. 
They did not balk — not even a little — at the idea of you being of worth in Azriel’s life. 
Azriel himself was largely quiet throughout the night. He seemed to take a backseat and allow you to navigate this situation as you saw fit, only interjecting with comments and responses every now and then. But at your side, he remained a solid, steadfast presence, his shadows a thing of comfort. And the urge to lean against him as the night wore on was a pressing, growing one. 
You didn’t want to resist anymore. Didn’t want to take a step backwards. You’d seen what he’d wanted to show you, and there were no more weak excuses you could come up with as to why your involvement with Azriel was a bad idea.
You wanted him…and you were done denying yourself him. 
It was only when the night drew to a close that you began to feel the tiredness waiting on the edges of your mind. Nesta was the first to leave, and soon after that, everyone else was standing and saying their goodbyes. 
“You’ll come back soon?” Feyre asked you, her hands squeezing yours. She seemed genuinely thrilled that Azriel had brought you here. 
You glanced at the shadowsinger beside you, a smile playing on your lips. “If he’s willing to bring me.”
A soft, low chuckle sounded in Azriel’s chest. But there was nothing comical about the way he promised, “Whenever you want.”
Bidding the High Lord and Lady goodnight, you descended the front steps with a lightness that you hadn’t felt upon arrival. Tonight had been…easy. Simple. There was nothing more to it than merely getting to know Azriel’s friends. Getting to know Azriel’s world.
And when the doors closed behind you, it was just you and him alone, for the first time in hours. 
He strolled at your side, back through the opulent front garden. Neither of you seemed to know who would speak first.
Until you turned to him and said, “Thank you for bringing me here.”
Az stared back at you, pausing for the slightest of moments. “To the River House?”
“And to Velaris. To…to Prythian.” You, too, paused. “To the truth, I suppose.”
His chin dipped just slightly. “You deserve the truth.”
A few paces forward, you walked in silence. It wasn’t until you were under the canopy of a huge, overhanging tree that you pressed your back against the trunk and allowed yourself to stare at him. Properly stare at him. To take in his beauty.
He stopped a few steps away, asking, “What?”
So many things you wanted to say. I’m done fighting this. I’m done fighting us. I want to dive further into this world with you. I want you, Azriel, whatever the hell that means for me—
“Who is Elain?” The words spilled, unplanned and undignified, from your lips. Your eyes shuttered for a moment as you regained your composure. “I mean…I know who she is. I know she’s Feyre’s and Nesta’s sister. I just mean…who is she…to you?”
Azriel was still for a moment, his brow pinching slightly. He took a step closer. “She’s…a friend.”
“…just a friend?”
“I…I won’t deny that I wondered, at one time, if she might be more than that.” His scent hit you as he continued to step closer. “But she has a mate. And I wondered that before…before I met you.”
The bark of the tree bit into your back as you held yourself firmly, grounding yourself in the moment. You inhaled a small breath, trying to ignore the dizziness that his general proximity seemed to provoke. But as he stepped closer still, now mere inches from you, you knew you were fighting a losing battle. 
Still, you lifted your chin and stared up at him. Stared, as he closed the gap between your two bodies and pressed you further against that tree, his body seeming to line perfectly with yours despite your height difference. His breath tickled your neck as he leaned into your ear. 
“Were you worried about that, Blue?” he asked huskily, a smile in his voice. 
You couldn’t control the way your breath hitched in your throat. Lie, save face, deny it, your mind screamed at you. You weren’t sure you currently had the mental capacity to do so. 
“You said you’ve had lovers,” you rasped back. “I was just wondering if, perchance, Elain had been one of them.”
A mix of both relief and disappointment filled you as Azriel pulled back — not far, but simply enough to stare sincerely into your eyes. His face was open and soft, despite the teasing that had been in his tone. 
“No.” His tone was a promise. “Elain has never been my lover. I don’t…I don’t want you to worry about that. About her.”
Your shoulders relaxed just slightly. But as your gaze began to lower from his, his hand was suddenly at your face, cupping your jaw, holding your attention firmly on him. 
“It’s been a long, heavy night for you,” he murmured, studying you closely. “I want you to tell me honestly how you’re feeling.”
Perhaps the most loaded question he could have asked. You swallowed, slowly shaking your head. “I…I’m feeling lots of things. Relief…that what you told me about this place was true. Shame…that I was obstinate in my ignorance—”
“You do not need to feel one bit of shame. There are always two sides of the coin—”
“And fear. I feel scared.”
Your words lingered between the two of you, truthful and unwavering. They were out in the open, now. You found yourself not wanting to keep them to yourself.
“I feel scared,” you repeated, “because I have nothing to hide behind, now. I can’t run and deny what I feel. You’ve shown me the truth, and I…I can no longer deny my own.”
His hand still cupping your face, Azriel brushed his thumb over your cheek. His eyes remained fully trained on you, not willing to look away for a second.
“There is no going back from this night,” you whispered, staring back at him. “And I’m glad about that. But I’m also so scared.”
“I don’t ever want you to feel scared. Not with me.” His hushed words, spoken quietly for your ears only, landed on your lips. “I just want to make you happy, Blue.”
It took a moment for you to realise that the soft noise that sounded — a small cry of both relief and need — came from you. You couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. You were done with resisting. 
Your hand cupped the back of Azriel’s head, and you pulled it down, slanting your mouth over his. At once, he hummed against your lips and moved his hands to your waist, pulling you closer against him. 
This was everything. Azriel was everything. He just wanted to make you happy, and you wanted to make him happy, too. He was not fae or a shadowsinger or a huge, imposing figure with wings. He was just Azriel. Your Azriel. Your salvation. 
The male you were so, so glad to have been proved wrong about. The male you were falling in love with. 
Your tongue pressed against the seam of his lips, and he parted them for you, allowing you to dip inside. At once, his taste mingled with yours, and you moaned softly, your hands grasping at him, wanting to feel him against you as you kissed him harder, fiercer. 
And he kissed you back just as ferociously. You may have been inexperienced, but you knew the taste of desire on his tongue, and you knew exactly what you were feeling when he hardened against you, his arms banded around you. 
“Blue,” he broke away, panting. His eyes were glazed as he stared down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily. “We’re getting carried away. Tell me what you want. I need to know what you want.”
Him. All of him. Every single inch of him.
Your eyes trailed down to the hardness that was unmistakably outlined through his leathers. Such stark hunger bolted through you that it sent shivers coursing down your spine. Had wetness pooling between your legs. 
And from the way Azriel’s nostrils flared, and a deep, guttural noise vibrated in his chest, you could only guess that he’d scented it. 
You pushed up onto your toes, brushing another kiss to your mouth. A light one that he seemed ready to get lost in, before you were pulling away, your eyes clashing with his again.
“I want you to take me back to my home,” you told him breathlessly, your fingers biting into his leathers. “And I want you to stay.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Not one bit of the journey was memorable. Not the flight back to the Wall, or that brief flash of darkness as you were winnowed from there, right back into the taproom at the Bluebird Inn.
Your only focus was on Azriel. The feel of his body pressed against yours, and how…how it would feel even better when you both rid yourself of clothing.
And gods, you were nervous. But you could feel in your very bones — you were ready.
This night had, indeed, been a reckoning. This night had, indeed, changed things forever, and made you realise that you had no good reason to deny yourself of the brilliant fae male who consumed your every thought.
You trusted Azriel. You wanted Azriel.
And when both your feet and his touched the wooden flooring of the inn, your eyes clashed only momentarily with his before you were pulling his face down to kiss you. And kiss you, he did. 
It was hot and greedy and desperate, a kiss that could wait no longer. He made a low noise against your mouth, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards and pressed you against the bar. It was tongue and touching and too many clothes, and you were done waiting, done thinking, as you dragged a trembling hand down the firm feel of his leathers, down and down until you were cautiously folding your palm over the bulge in his pants. 
You had no idea what exactly you were doing, but the way Azriel gasped against your lips seemed to be a positive reaction. One that only spurred you on further. 
Even without properly seeing him, you could tell he was huge. Your hand barely fit over what pressed through his breeches. You explored the length of him, wishing that clothes weren’t in the way. That it was just skin on skin. 
Azriel let out a choked moan — one that seemed pleasurable. Until he pulled away.
“Wait, Blue,” he panted, staring down at you. “Just…tell me you’re sure.”
You had gone past sure. Sure wasn’t a strong enough word. Sure was nothing against the certainty that roared in your veins.
“I am,” you promised, applying pressure with your hand. “Show me…show me what to do, Azriel.”
It was a pure, animalistic growl that broke from him then, and in one swift movement, he was lifting you up and carrying you over to the bar, perching you atop and slotting himself between your legs. 
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he kissed you. Kissed you again. Kissed you harder. “I promise, my bluebird.”
“Please,” you begged softly, grasping at his leathers. “I want you.”
Kisses deepened, turned more ferocious. Hands wandered, began roaming, exploring. You felt the cautious touch of a hand gliding over your breast, warm fingers permeating your shirt. You gasped, arching into the touch. 
Perhaps that was why you didn’t hear it. Perhaps you were so distracted, so hungry for the male before you, that the quiet footsteps that approached were heard by neither of you. Not even by Azriel’s fae senses, his shadows. 
No, you were both oblivious until a cold, stern voice filled the room. 
“Y/N?” Devin stood against the doorframe, not taking his eyes off Azriel’s giant form. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
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sourholland · 2 months
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click
azriel x fem!reader
a short sorta and angsty, im halfway through a court of wings and ruin so this doesn’t really sit in a timeline but i was inspired to write. as always, requests are always open
If there was one thing to be absolutely certain about when it came to Azriel, it was his utter devotion to Mor. The yearning that bled through that stone cold facade. It was almost as if his desperation for her prevailed above all else, even after so many years.
Rhysand had alluded to his hope that the mating bond would someday click between the two of them. You wondered if perhaps he thought if it did, maybe all of that longing wouldn’t have all been for nothing. The way he looked at her was unlike anything you’d ever seen, causing you to ignore the small twinge in your heart that came with the sight of it. Over the years, you had come to terms with the fact that his feelings were unchanging and deep-rooted through centuries of shared trauma.
Having only been with Rhys’s inner circle for a few decades, you were much younger get than the rest of them. He had anointed you as emissary of The Night Court when you came to him seeking asylum within Velaris, born to The Court of Nightmares.
Mor was much like you in that way, she was a sister to you at this point. When Feyre came, you felt so overjoyed to have another female to connect with. Even Amren had taken to you, in whatever capacity she knew how to.
Amren was who had observed the soul tie between you and Azriel, how she was able to—you had not a clue. The feeling of the potential bond had weighed on your heart for a few years, however he never spoke of it so you had chalked it up to being a mistaken feeling within the hollowness of your chest. She picked up on it very early on, she spoke to you candidly.
“He loves Mor,” said Amren, unabashedly.
“I know,” you responded chastely. “She knows, he knows, I know. That is that.”
Amren stilled for a moment, her legs tucked under her as you both sat on the floor of her apartment and mulled over information for your meeting at the House of Wind that night. A flicker of emotion passed her cold eyes, meeting her gaze and sharing a look of understanding. She needn’t say it, she pitied you in whatever way she could muster up.
“He doesn’t know,” you said after a moment.
“Yes,” she let a knowing sigh escape her lips. “He does.”
You say nothing. Truthfully, you knew that he suspected. You simply gathered that he was doing the same as you were, ignoring it in entirety. Yet, you remained on speaking terms with him as he continued to watch Mor like she would someday change her mind.
“I will say this only once, mostly because I do not wish to meddle in the inner workings of your soul,” she finally said. “If he wishes to grovel at the feet of someone who will never have him in the way that he wishes, let him. It is a pathetic waste of life, if that is any consolation.”
Once you departed from Amren’s apartment, you walked along the streets of Velaris soundlessly. There were children playing in the streets, you greeted some of them sweetly and nodded along. She was right, Azriel would not change for anyone but himself at this point.
He was late to dinner that night, whatever business he was attending to had somehow held him up. He came in after everyone was already sat and eating, chatting and laughing a bit. He took the empty seat beside you, mentioning a few things to Rhysand and speaking to Feyre about his plans for the following day.
“How did it go between you and Amren?” He suddenly asked you, beginning to shovel food onto his plate.
You simply responded with the sound of cutlery scraping the bottom of your plate. He thought that you had not heard him, repeating himself again as his shadows danced around his shoulders and the edges of his wings. The third time he repeated himself, there was an edge to his voice that brought you out of your thoughts to meet his eyes.
Click.
There it was. The bond. The god awful fucking mating bond. It felt almost ironic, like fate was giving you the middle finger. Azriel stilled, his eyes completely locked onto your own. It felt nothing like you’d imagined, despite already knowing deep down.
Only Amren had fully recognized what happened, eyes almost appearing shocked. She said nothing, but could not pull her own stare from the interaction.
His shadows began to drift towards you, a sick feeling lurching in your gut and causing you to drop your utensils. The clatter caused everyone to look up and to both of you, your chair nearly falling behind you as you could not stomach to be in the dining room any longer.
Azriel couldn’t even go after you, he only sat in silence with unmoving eyes. He hadn’t even blinked, almost as if the confirmation sent him into a complete and utter state of shock.
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serpentandlily · 7 months
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Untouchable VII - Azriel x Reader
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Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: angst angst angst
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part VII
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“Are you alright?”
Feyre’s voice knocked you out of your own head. You swallowed audibly, looking at her before following her gaze down to where you were holding your wine glass, white knuckled. You let out a sigh and set the glass down on the table, putting your hands in your lap.
“I’m fine, sorry,” you said, to get her attention off of you. “Just thinking about my last trip to Hewn City, that’s all.” 
Feyre’s brows furrowed but she nodded. 
Your eyes flickered back to the other end of the table, where Elain and Azriel sat. Elain was basically halfway out of her chair, leaning into Azriel’s space. A knot formed at the back of your throat. Azriel wasn’t exactly encouraging her, but he also wasn’t trying to put more distance between the two of them. 
Jealousy roared its ugly head inside of you. Especially as you watched her place a hand on his arm, laughing at something he said. A hand that wouldn’t hurt him, unlike yours. 
You looked away, unable to bear the sight of it anymore. You just wanted this stupid dinner to be over already. 
Everyone seemed to have paired off into conversation. Feyre and Rhys, Cassian and Nesta, Helion and Mor, Amren and Varian, Elain and Azriel. You pushed around the food on your plate, feeling alone. 
There was one another person here who looked just as lonely as you. Lucien sat across from you, his eyes glued on his mate who was flirting with your…with your Azriel. 
Elain laughed again, drawing your attention back to her. This time, Azriel had a soft smile on his face as well. 
You couldn’t take it anymore, thankful everyone seemed to be finished eating dessert. You cleared your throat, standing up and drawing everyone’s eyes to you. You kept your focus on Helion though.
“I'm going to turn in for the night. It was lovely seeing you again, Helion,” you said politely. “Goodnight.”
You couldn’t get to the balcony fast enough, summoning your wings to make the short flight back to the River House. You ignored the soft stroke of your brother’s claws against your mental shield, not in the mood to make up excuses for your behavior. 
Once you were in your room, you started ripping the pins from your hair and tossing them on your vanity. Just as you were finishing letting your hair down, the shadows in the corner of your room seemed to expand until a dark figure stepped out of them. 
Azriel approached you, concern written on his face. 
“Y/n? Why did you take off like that? Is everything alright?”
You didn’t turn to face him, instead you looked at him through the mirror. 
“I’m fine. I-I just didn’t feel too good.” 
“Don’t do that, princess,” Azriel said, stalking forward until he was right behind you, still able to look at you in the eyes considering he was a foot taller than you. “I thought we were being honest with each other now.” 
You let out a sigh and turned around, placing a soft hand on his chest. “I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t stand watching you with her. After what I saw that night—” You choked on your own words for a second. “It’s hard to be around you when I can't be with you.” 
Azriel placed his hand over yours. “I cannot apologize enough for that night, princess. But it is only you that I see. It meant nothing to me then and it means nothing to me now. You are the only one who owns my entire heart. I can only pray that a day comes when I can let everyone else see that too.” 
You softened, staring up at his beautiful hazel eyes. They were gold right now in the moonlight shining into your room from the balcony doors, a perfect compliment to your own violet ones. But then his jaw clenched and the moment was stolen away.
You pulled your hand away from him, letting your arm fall limp at your side. 
“This is also why I left,” you breathed out. “It pains me to see another person get to touch you when I can’t. I hate it, Azriel. I hate that I bring you pain.” 
“I’d drag myself across the burning fires of hell for you, princess” Azriel brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, before leaning down to whisper, “I’ve never been a stranger to pain, y/n. Quite the opposite. I’ve learned to like it.” 
The heat in his gaze—his words—made you melt right into his hands. 
“Is that so?” Your voice was a mere whisper as your hand trailed down his chest, lingering on the waistband of his pants before palming his hardened length with a ghost of a touch. 
Azriel groaned, his head falling against your shoulder. “Don’t tease me. Not tonight.” 
“Oh, I won’t,” you purred, stroking against his mental barrier.
When he let you in, you showed him exactly how the two of you were going to spend the rest of the night. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You bit your lip, tossing more of your clothes out of your wardrobe and onto the floor of your bedroom as you dug around, searching for your journal. It wasn’t in the place you normally hid it, but that hadn’t been too concerning. You did often throw it about after writing in it for hours. But not being able to find it at all? That was a first.
“What are you looking for?”
You screeched, falling backwards onto your butt at the sudden voice. A masculine chuckle, accompanied with the scent of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded the room. You peered up to see Azriel hovering over you. You pouted at him and his antics. 
“It’s rude to just appear in a ladies room, you know,” you snipped, causing him to snort. “I’m looking for my journal. I can’t find it anywhere. Have you seen it?” 
Azriel shook his head, offering a hand to help you off the floor. “I didn’t even know you kept a journal. I can help you look.”
“No, it’s alright. I’m sure it’ll turn up.”
Before you could say another word, Azriel surged forward to kiss you. You let out a small gasp before giving yourself over to him. He kissed you with a familiar passion, bringing heat to your core and causing your heart to beat fiercely. 
 The kiss ended far too soon. 
“What was that for?” you panted. 
“Can’t I just kiss you?” 
You gave him a look that had his lips twitching. “Fine. Cassian needs help in Windhaven so I’m going to be gone for a few days. I wanted to see you before I left.” 
You frowned as he played with the straps of your dress, his eyes as pained as yours were at the thought of having to spend time away from each other. 
“Do you really have to go? Can’t Rhys go help him? He’s the High Lord, not you.”
Azriel pressed a kiss to your lips again, smiling. 
“Is someone going to miss me?” 
His eyes softened when the look on your face didn’t change. 
“It’s just for a few days, princess,” Azriel said. “I’ll be back before you know it.” 
“I suppose you don’t have a choice.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Do I at least get more of a goodbye?” 
Azriel let out a small groan as your body pressed against his but to your displeasure, he merely kissed you on the forehead and stepped away. “I wish, princess, but your brother asked me to meet with him before I leave. I’m sorry.” 
“Why is he always getting in the way?” you grumbled, more to yourself than anything. 
Azriel placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.” 
“Okay,” you sighed. “Be safe. I love you.”
“I love you too, Princess,” he murmured, giving you one last kiss before disappearing in a whirlwind of shadows. 
His scent trailed behind him…but then you stiffened, another lingering scent was attached to it. 
You sniffed the air.
Jasmine and Honey. 
Elain’s scent. 
Your heart dropped to your stomach. Why did he smell like Elain? Had he gone and said goodbye to her as well? Had he been with her before coming to see you? You could feel your blood rushing to your head and you forced yourself to calm down.
You sniffed the air again, only smelling his night-chilled mist and cedar this time. You let out a long breath, sitting down at the edge of your bed. Perhaps you had been mistaken. Perhaps your own insecurities were making you paranoid. 
But something awful curled in your stomach.
And a feeling of dread rushed through you.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You busied yourself while Azriel was away. It had only been a day so far, but you already missed him so much. You had buried yourself in reports from the Court of Nightmares and correspondence from Eris. But still, nothing could fully distract you from your thoughts. 
You kept going back to that scent in your room. 
Had you made that up?
But why? Why would you do that to yourself? You hadn’t even been thinking of Elain. You wrestled with the idea that maybe Azriel had seen Elain before you, to tell her he was leaving. They were friends, after all. It could be something harmless.
But that night kept flashing behind your eyes every time you shut them. Elain on the counter, her dress pushed up to her thighs, Azriel between them, as they ravishingly kissed each other. Elain and Azriel at the dinner table, her hand on his bicep as he made her laugh. 
It made you feel sick to your stomach.
The words on the parchment you were reading blurred together and you set it aside with a sigh. 
You were overthinking things. Azriel had told you time and time again that he wanted to be with you. That he’s always wanted to be with you and it was your own brother that had kept him away.
You dropped your head down on your desk, sucking in air. You were just being paranoid. You were letting your insecure feelings get in your head. Azriel wanted you. Azriel wanted only you. He loved you. He always had…
Right?
A giggle in the corridor outside your door caught your attention. You sat up straight, recognizing it to be Elain’s. You froze for a second before quietly getting up and walking to your door, pressing your ear against the cold wood.
Another giggle, a bit further down the hallway this time. 
You slowly pushed the door open a crack, peering into the dark corridor. Another giggle and the sound of someone shushing another. A streak of golden-brown hair slipping around the corner. Azriel’s scent wafted through the space and your stomach turned over.
You stepped into the now quiet hallway, following after the sound of Elain’s giggles and Azriel’s scent. 
He was supposed to be in Windhaven. Why was he here? And why was here with Elain in the middle of the night? Your heart was pounding in your chest. You felt like throwing up. But you pushed yourself to follow despite your better judgment. 
A door around the corner slammed shut and you could hear the sound of rustling clothes. Tears pricked your eyes and you darted forward now, pushing the door open.
Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the empty room. You blinked once. Twice. You couldn’t hear Elain’s giggle anymore, couldn't scent Azriel either. 
Had you imagined all of that? 
You rubbed at your eyes, exhaustion settling into your body. Gods, you were going crazy. The lack of sleep was finally getting to you. That was the only logical explanation you could give yourself. You left the room and returned to your own. 
Just a few more days. 
A few more days and Azriel would be home. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The next two days passed in a blur.
You had a stack of reports in your arms as you made your way towards your brother’s office, ready to deliver them. You had been staying in the Townhouse the past few nights, needing space away from Elain–hoping it would make your delusions go away.
It wasn’t her fault that you were going crazy, wasn’t her fault that your own brother had pushed Azriel away from you all those years. You didn’t want to take it out on her, so you figured you’d just remove yourself from the Riverhouse until Azriel returned. 
You were passing by a closed off room when a familiar voice made you stop in your tracks.
“Fuck, Elain,” Azriel moaned. “You feel so good.”
You shook your head but the sound of two people panting didn’t go away. You froze, just like last time, squeezing your eyes shut, hoping it would go away. You were truly going crazy. You had to be. 
“Gods,” Elain panted. “Please, Azriel, don’t stop.” 
Your eyes shot open as your heart dropped to your stomach once more. That feeling of dread came again as bile rose up in the back of your throat. You put your hand against the door, slowly pushing it open, praying that you would be met with the sight of an empty room just like last time. 
You choked silently on your breath as you peered into the room through the crack in the door. Your hand shot to your mouth as the sight of Azriel and Elain came into view. You blinked once. Twice.
It didn’t go away.
There was Azriel, holding Elain against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist as they kissed. Your heart snapped into a million pieces, your eyes stinging with tears that had started falling. 
What the fuck? 
How…How could he do this?
They pulled away from each other and Azriel rested his forehead against hers. 
“How much longer must you pretend to be interested in Rhys’s sister?” Elain asked, closing her eyes. “I’m tired of hiding, Azriel. I don’t care what Rhys thinks. I want the whole court to know how much we love each other.”
“It’s better this way for now, Elain. If Rhys is suspicious of me messing around with his sister, then he will take the news of us together more lightly. He’ll be relieved it's not her I’m after. Hell, he’ll probably throw us a wedding himself.” 
Elain giggled, pecking his lips. “I just hate watching her pine after you. It’s a little sad, honestly. You’d think she would’ve moved on after all this time.”
“I know,” Azriel agreed. “But it’ll be worth it. I promise you.” 
You couldn’t bear to hear anymore. You silently took a step back, closing the door as softly as you could. You felt your vision go in and out of focus as you forced your legs to keep moving.
Azriel…Azriel had been using you this whole time? He had been wanting your brother to think he had moved on from Elain to you in hopes that your brother would be outraged by the thought, leading him to be relieved that it was still Elain he desired, not you. 
You wanted to throw up.
Wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.
You…Gods, you were such an idiot. You had believed every single thing Azriel had said to you. Had never doubted him until these past few days. 
No. No….you couldn’t…you couldn’t do this. You were going to be sick. 
You were walking still, not even sure where your legs were taking you. You wanted to winnow to Illyria and throw yourself off a cliff, wanted to curl up in a ball in your room and cry, wanted to…Gods, you needed to get away. Needed to get the hell out of here.
“Dove? Are you alright?”
You blinked, your vision coming back into focus to realize you had walked to your brother’s office—your mind likely on autopilot. His violet eyes were staring at you with concern, tracking the tears falling from your eyes.
The reports fell from your hand, scattering to the floor. Rhys rose from his desk, striding over to you quickly. A sob escaped your lips as he grabbed you by the arms, shaking you a bit.
“Dove, what happened? What’s going on? Why are you crying?” 
The words began spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Azriel was seated at the kitchen table in Rhys’s family cabin, across from Cassian who looked as miserable as he did. It had been a long day of dealing with Devlon and the other Illyrians. 
A shadow curled over his ear.
The High Lord approaches. He is angry with you, master. 
Azriel swallowed audibly as a wave of darkness overtook the cabin, Rhys stepped out of it looking like a prince from hell, his violet eyes set on him with a burning rage.
Azriel knew the moment he saw Rhys what this was about. He had finally figured it out. He finally knew what was going on between him and his sister. That was the only reason he could think of. 
“Azriel!” The High Lord growled, causing Cassian to jump to his feet, his brows furrowed with confusion. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Azriel braced himself but didn’t move. He deserved Rhys’s wrath. He knew he did. 
Rhys tackled him, splintering the wooden chair into pieces as the two males landed on the hard ground. Cassian shouted at them to stop but Rhys began to pummel Azriel with his fists.
Azriel didn’t bother fighting back. He just laid on the ground, letting Rhys beat him even as he began to spit up blood. 
He always knew this day would come. Knew that he deserved to be beaten into an inch of life for what he had done. He had taken something as pure and good as y/n and fully corrupted her, marked her, ruined her. 
He had never deserved to lay his hands on her perfect skin, her perfect body. Not when his hands were so flawed. Not when his hands had done such terrible things. 
Suddenly, Rhys was being yanked off of him by Cassian. Rhys growled at his other brother, trying to push him away but Cassian held strong.
“Azriel, get the fuck up,” Cassian grunted. “Why the fuck didn’t you try to fight back?”
Azriel stood, slowly, wiping a hand at the blood that was beginning to dribble down his chin. He spat out more blood, already feeling the bruising that was going to be scattered all over his jaw.
“Because he knows he deserves it,” Rhys snapped. “You fucking piece of shit! I trusted you! I fucking let you into my home, took care of you like a brother, and this is how you repay me?! I swear to the Gods if you don’t get out of my way, Cassian—”
“Stop!” Cassian shouted. “What the fuck is going on? What the fuck happened?”
“Tell him, Azriel, tell him what you’ve done! Tell him how you’ve been messing around with my little sister behind my back!”
Cassian’s eyes widened, his head whipping back and forth behind his brothers. “Rhys, calm down. I don’t know who you heard that from but that can’t be true. Right, Az? I mean, fuck, the bargain we have wouldn’t even—”
“It’s true, Cassian,” Azriel cut him off. “It’s true. Let him go. I deserve this. I fucked up.” 
“Azriel,” Cassian murmured in disbelief, his eyes full of disappointment. Azriel couldn’t bear the sight of it. 
“You’re fucking sick, Azriel,” Rhys growled. “You held her as a baby! You watched her grow up for fucks sake! I thought I could trust you!”
“Oh fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel said, baring his teeth at the other male. “Don’t make this into something it’s not. I love her! I fucking love her, alright! I always have! And you knew it! That’s why you made us make that fucking bargain with you in the first place!”
“Oh you love her?” Rhys snapped, sarcastically. “You love her so much, huh? Is that why she’s in her room crying over you right now? Is that why you fucking used her to get back at me for telling you to stay away from Elain? I’m going to fucking rip your throat out!”
He lurched forward again, but Cassian took the brunt of his weight, holding him off. 
Azriel froze, utterly bewildered.
“Az…what is he talking about? What does he mean you’ve been using y/n?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel spat. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, Rhys. I’m not using y/n and I never even wanted Elain. I was trying to move on from…from loving your sister for gods’ sake.”
Rhys laughed bitterly. “If that’s so, then tell me why my sister came crying to me a few hours ago after catching you and Elain fucking each other?!”
“What!” Cassian swiveled to look at Azriel again. But Azriel looked as shocked as he did. 
“What the fuck are you talking about, Rhys? I’ve been here all day with Cassian. I don’t want Elain and I certainly wouldn’t be using your sister to get with her!”
“You’re a fucking liar, Azriel! She showed me what she saw, you prick! Cass, you better fucking let me go—”
“He’s not lying, Rhys,” Cassian interjected. “He really has been here with me all day. I don’t think he’s left my sight once. You can go into my mind and look, but I swear it. If…if what you’re saying is true, then I’ll fucking help you kick Azriel’s ass but I think there’s some miscommunication here.”
“Y/n is in her room crying…because she thinks I’ve been using her? I don’t… I wouldn’t,” Azriel murmured, mostly to himself. “I need to go see her.”
“If you move a single muscle, I swear I’ll tear your mind apart, Azriel,” Rhys yelled. “Don’t you dare even think about seeing her right now! You have no idea what you’ve caused!”
“Rhys, I swear on my life that I haven’t touched Elain since winter solstice! And I would never use your sister. I love her! She’s all that matters to me! I need to go to her. I don’t know what she saw but it wasn’t me!”
“Rhys, please, listen to him. I know you’re upset, I am too, but come on, you know Azriel. Does this really seem like something he would do?”
“I saw her memory of it, Cass. I saw him fucking Elain! I saw him talking about using her!”
Azriel stepped forward, glaring. “I haven’t fucked Elain and I wouldn’t, ever! I don’t understand…I’ve been here with Cass all day.”
“He really has, Rhys. There’s got to be something else going on here…I don’t know what y/n thinks she saw or heard, but it wasn’t Azriel.”
Rhys cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to get home. I need to get to the bottom of this. But this is not over, Azriel! Even if you didn’t use her or cheat on her! You should’ve never even put your hands on her in the first place!”
“Alright, that’s enough!” Cassian pushed him back. “One thing at a time. I think finding out why y/n saw what she did is more important right now!”
Rhys glared at Cassian but backed off. He shot Azriel another scathing look before disappearing into the darkness, winnowing away.
“I need to go, Cass. I need to see her, need to tell her that whatever she saw wasn’t true. I don’t care if you hate me now too, but I won’t let you stop me from going to her.”
“I don’t hate you, Az, but fuck, what were you thinking? I warned you not to hurt his sister,” Cassian sighed, before holding a hand out. “Take me with you.”
Azriel grabbed Cassian’s hand before shadow walking to the River House. The foyer came into view a second later.
Feyre was there examining Rhys’s bloodied knuckles. She peaked over at them as they appeared, her eyes widening as she caught sight of Azriel’s face.
“I tracked down Elain,” Feyre spoke. “She wasn’t even here this morning. She spent the night at Lucien’s apartment.”
She whispered the last part, glancing at Azriel but he wasn’t even paying attention. His eyes were on the staircase that led to Rhys’s sister’s room. He needed to get to her, needed to make sure she knew whatever she had seen wasn’t real.
“Don’t even think about it,” Rhys snapped, his violet eyes glaring into Azriel. “Mor is with her right now. You stay down here, in my sight, until this is dealt with! Don’t think this has absolved you of anything.”
“Rhys, stop,” Feyre barked. “Now is not the time. Can you remember what your sister showed you? Was there anything weird about the memory?”
Rhys let out a frustrated breath. “No—I don’t know. I was too angry to even think.”
“Well, we need to go talk to her,” Feyre said. “Have her show you the memory again. I don’t know how but someone must’ve planted it or something.”
“Why would someone do that?” Cassian questioned. “Who knew that her and Azriel even had a thing together and would try and get in between it?”
Azriel was stewing in his own thoughts, pacing in front of the fireplace. He couldn’t stand this. Couldn’t stand knowing you were upset thinking he had cheated on you and used you for Elain. 
“Azriel,” Rhys barked. “Did anyone else know about the two of you? You better be fucking honest or I swear—”
“You’re not being helpful by being angry right now, Rhys,” Feyre cut in.
Azriel racked his brain for anyone who might have known they were together. They had been careful but there was one person…
“Cedric,” Azriel answered. “Cedric knew we were together. He knew she turned down his proposal because of me.”
“The Prince?” Cassian asked. 'Wait, you and y/n have been seeing each other since you traveled to the continent?"
"Cassian, not the time," Feyre snarled again.
Azriel could tell Rhys’s mind was racing with his thoughts and he too, paced back and forth. 
“Fuck,” Rhys suddenly cursed loudly, causing Feyre to jump. “The Prince…his family’s magic specializes in illusions. Could he have…but how? Why?”
“Maybe he’s upset she rejected him,” Feyre suggested. “You need to go talk to her. You need to look into that memory again, see if you can poke through it.”
“He can’t talk to her,” Mor said, walking down the stairs and drawing everyone’s attention. “She left for the continent an hour ago. I was packing some of her stuff for her to send over.”
“What? You let her leave?” Rhys shouted. “Where did she go?”
Mor narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t let her do anything. She’s a grown female, Rhys. She went to Vallahan. I guess Prince Cedric said his doors were always open for her and she wanted to get away.”
Rhys cursed again. “No, no! Fuck, Mor! You had one fucking job! Not to let her out of your sight!”
“Well, sorry! I didn’t know we were considering the possibility that someone has been making her see things! She wanted to go and I wasn’t going to stop her.”
“We need to go,” Feyre interjected. “If it is the Prince who caused all of this, then who knows what he’ll do to her now that she’s back over there! He might manipulate her into marrying him.”
“Everyone needs to calm down,” Cassian said. “I have a question. So maybe the Prince knows about her and Azriel, but that doesn’t explain how he knew the background between Azriel and Elain.”
Something clicked in Azriel’s head. “Her journal. Fuck, her journal has been missing. He must’ve stolen it when we were at his castle. You said she left an hour ago, Mor?”
Mor nodded, her mouth in a tight line. 
“Shit. That means she’s probably there already,” Azriel growled. “I’m going. I’m leaving right now and I’m going to get her back.”
“No you’re not,” Rhys ordered. “I’ll go and bring her back.”
“We can all go,” Feyre snapped. “Go get in your fighting gear just in case. We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes so we can go save y/n from that Prince.”
Azriel didn’t need to be told twice.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You brushed your tears away, not wanting anyone to see you had been crying. The castle came into view and you hurried forward, eager to get inside and away from watchful eyes. 
You had written a quick letter to Cedric asking if you could visit and he had readily replied with a yes. You needed to get out of the Night Court, needed to get as far away from Azriel as you could.
Your heart was broken, snapped into a million pieces. Your throat was hoarse from sobbing the past few hours. Your entire world had collapsed and you had never felt such despair.
The castle doors finally came into sight, a group of soldiers standing guard with Cedric. He smiled brightly at you as you walked forward.
“Princess! I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon,” he greeted. “Please, come inside!”
You greeted him with a smile, scurrying inside the castle. You turned to face him. “Thank you for letting me come on such short notice, Cedric. I—”
“Seize her.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, at the coldness in his tone. Before you could react, the soldiers surged forward and grabbed you by the arms. You let out a scream, trying to wiggle from their hold as they snapped a pair of faebane handcuffs around your wrists.
“Cedric! What—what are you doing? Let me go!”
Cedric gave you a menacing smile. “You know, I thought this might take a little longer, getting you to come back here. Who knew your insecurities about the shadowsinger ran so deep? I’ll have to send him a thank you after all of this.”
“What are you talking about? Why…unhand me, now! This is…Cedric, what is this? Let me go!”
The soldiers dragged you forward as Cedric stood in front of the doors, hands behind his back looking quite pleased with himself. “Oh no, there is someone very important I need you to meet.”
He grabbed you by the upper arm and a second later, the familiar feeling of winnowing whisked you away.
You landed on soft ground, right beside a lake. Your eyes widened on the shack that sat in the middle of it. 
“Cedric, please! Let me go!”
You tried to wiggle out of your restraints but the guards held you with unflinching strength. You let out a tiny scream as a figure emerged from the water. A figure made of smoke.
“Hello, Princess,” Koschei purred. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
a/n: ooppp sorry for all the rage/upset I might've caused you with this one. The series is coming to a close though! Two more parts and an epilogue is what I have planned rn! Thank you guys for all your support!
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Text
They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 2
Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Y/N's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison
Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF.
Part One || Part Two || Part Three
✨💫
Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Y/N’s story? What were those burns from? If Y/N was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.
The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”
Feyre didn’t so much as move.
Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prison and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amren was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.
Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.
“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.
“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.
“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”
“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”
Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.
The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”
They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.
“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.
“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”
“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”
“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly not.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”
There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Y/N. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”
Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.” 
Another pause and Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left with the scars from the burns.”
The image of Y/N gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Y/N. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Y/N, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”
The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males to be able to produce another generation of warriors. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned, she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Y/N before either of them even considered it. Y/N interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”
The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Y/N’s hair came into her mind’s eye.
“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Y/N. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Y/N was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Y/N, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just clip them.”    
The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.    
“I suspect that if Y/N was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Y/N’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Y/N himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Y/N after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Y/N after the name of a bakery in Velaris she adored. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Y/N is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”   
The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Y/N’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Y/N were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.
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azriels-shadowsinger · 3 months
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“All you do is push me away. I'm done. Whatever this is, it's done.”
Azriel x Reader
wc: 2.3k
a/n: responding to this request. sorry this took forever, i started my new job this week! also, thank you for 400 followers!!
prompt list
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“It will be fine, y/n!” Feyre reassures, rubbing a gentle hand down your back. You bite your lip anxiously.
“I don't know, Fey. It's already awkward enough trying to introduce my boyfriend to the high lord and lady, the general, and scariest of all, Amren.” You chuckle. “But seriously, I’m even more worried about Azriel. He’s been so weird and distant since we ended our... situationship?” You sigh heavily. “Whatever it was, he got all weird when it ended. I’m worried he’s gonna make tonight weird.” You whine.
“Rhys already talked to him. Azriel promised to be welcoming.” Feyre reassures
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You grumble. Truthfully, you knew very little about your new boyfriend, Wesley, and you had no idea how he would behave around your friends, but when Cassian caught you on a second date and blabbed about your new boyfriend to everyone, you had no choice but to introduce him to the group. Hopefully, Feyre was right that everything would be fine.
———
Everyone at the table was visibly uncomfortable, thanks to Azriel. He had spent the first half of dinner in a very tense silence, ignoring everyone’s attempts to interact with him. He only responded with mocking laughs under his breath at every other thing Wesley said. Rhys had tried to speak to Azriel in his mind, Feyre told you, but his walls were up and he refused to drop them.
You thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, but once the final course came out, Azriel switched from chilling silence to obnoxiously challenging everything you or Wesley said. You were going to kill him.
“So what do you do for fun, Wesley?” Feyre asks, attempting to alleviate tension.
“Uh, I like studying history.” He answers quietly. Azriel chokes down a laugh, and you internally groan at the most boring answer he could’ve chosen.
“Hm, that's weird y/n. I thought your usual type was...” Azriel eyes Wesley with distaste “much different.” You scowl at Azriel.
“I don’t have a type, Azriel.” You say defensively. “And if I did, it would be Wesley.”
“Sure it would.” He says smugly. “I seem to recall you have a preference for tougher guys, specifically Illyrians-“
“That is enough, Az.” Rhys commands, cutting Azriel off and using his high lord voice. Everyone sits quietly, not sure what to say next.
“I think I should leave.” Wesley says uncomfortably, breaking the silence and moving to stand. “Goodnight everyone, it was wonderful to meet you all.” He says with a forced smile before heading towards the door. You hurry after him, heels clicking loudly on the floor.
“Wes, please stay! There’s dessert, and I promise it won't be as awkward. I’ll make him leave.” You beg once you two are out of earshot.
“Don’t bother. You didn’t tell me you used to date him. That would’ve been great information to have going into tonight.”
“We never-“ he cuts you off.
“Save it. I have no interest in competing with the fucking spymaster. You are not worth the effort.” You visibly flinch at the harsh words and tears begin to form in your eyes, as he turns away. “I’ll see you around.” He mutters and leaves.
———
When you return to the dining room, Azriel is sitting there with a victorious smirk on his face, eating his dessert. One look at the rage in your eyes, and everyone else had the bright idea to leave you two alone.
“Are you happy now?” You holler.
“Kinda, yeah.” He says smugly. You let out a frustrated groan.
“You spiteful, ignorant, selfish male!” He laughs slightly at your outburst.
“What’s wrong sweetheart? Could Wesley not take a little joke?” He grins.
“He broke up with me because of your gods damn immaturity!”
“Good. You can do better, he doesn’t deserve you.” Azriel replies nonchalantly.
“What the hell is your problem? Is this because I ended things between us?” That causes him to freeze, dropping any amusement from his face.
“No.”
“It is, isnt it? Well guess who’s fault that was! You don’t date, you told me so yourself. And any time I tried to get closer to you, you put up walls and shut me out.“ you let out an exasperated sigh. “Even now, all you do is push me away. So you know what Azriel? I'm done. Whatever this is, it's done.”
“There’s nothing to end, we aren’t dating. We aren't even fucking anymore.” He spits coldly, but you see the hurt lacing his features, matching your own.
“Yeah, I got that. Loud and clear.” You murmur. “Stay the hell away from me from now on.” You growl before exiting the room, leaving Azriel alone.
———
You had not so much as looked at him in three weeks, and it was driving Azriel crazy. He had assumed that with your now ex-boyfriend out of the way, you would eventually turn to him to resume your previous friends-with-benefits situation. He couldn’t help but miss your company.
Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys sat around the table at Rita’s drinking whiskey. As soon as Azriel began complaining about you again, Cassian rolled his eyes, finished his glass of whiskey, and stood up.
“I’m tired of hearing about this every damn day. I’m getting another drink.” He grumbles.
Azriel wasn’t sure why he was bothered so damn much that you were avoiding him. Sure, he had plenty of females offering him pleasure every time he went out in Velaris, there were two eyeing him from across the bar right now, but he didn’t want them.
“Honestly, what I miss most about her isn’t even the sex.” Azriel admits, slurring his words slightly as the alcohol takes effect in his system. Rhysand’s ears perk up at this admission. Previously, Azriel had only ever admitted to missing the consistent sex or complained that you were overreacting, but this was new. Rhys wondered if Azriel even realized what he was saying.
“What do you mean, brother?” Rhys probes.
“I miss the nights we spent talking. And how somehow she managed to know exactly what I needed, without me having to say it.” Azriel downs the rest of his drink. “I just want things to go back to the way they were. Like when she would fall asleep next to me and I would actually be able to quiet my mind enough for once to fall asleep too. Or when she smiled and I felt all warm inside. I don’t even know why I shut her out when she asked about becoming more. Maybe because it scares me.” Azriel prattles on, talking to himself more than Rhys.
“You love her, you idiot.” Rhys states, which immediately pulls Azriel’s focus.
“That’s not… don’t do that Rhys. Don’t put shit into my head.” Azriel says defensively. Cassian returns with another round of whiskey for everyone.
“What did Rhys do?” Cassian asks casually as he passes a glass to each of his brothers.
“I informed Az that he’s in love with y/n.” Rhys smirks and sips his whiskey.
“I’m not-“ Cassian cuts Azriel off.
“You totally are!” Cassian laughs. Azriel huffs out a breath and downs his whiskey in one big swallow. There was no use arguing with his brothers once their minds were made up.
“I gotta go.” Azriel mumbles and storms out the door. Rhys and Cass just exchange knowing glances.
———
You hear someone banging on your door late that evening. You want to say you’re surprised to see Azriel when you open the door, but no one else would bother you this time of night. You just look at him expectantly, waiting to hear what he has to say.
“I was wrong before. I should've never pushed you away when you said you wanted more. I was just scared of how I felt and scared of getting hurt by you. I’m sorry for being a dick and I’m sorry for ruining that dinner with your ex-boyfriend, I just couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. Please, give me another shot.” Azriel has such a hopeful look in his eyes, waiting for your answer.
“I told you I was done.” You say, trying your hardest to stay calm and collected.
“But I-“ he takes a deep breath. “But I love you. Please, give me a chance to make things right.” You pause, mind reeling at the admission. As much as you want to admit the same thing, you can’t afford to get hurt by him again, so you do your best to calm your racing heart and force the words out.
“It’s too late, Azriel. I’m sorry.” You shut the door quickly before you can give in, immediately letting your tears fall once it's closed.
———
More weeks passed, and you eventually decided that you had to stop wallowing in self-pity and try to move on again. Wesley might have not been the one for you, but surely someone out there is.
You had decided to go out to Rita’s with Mor and eventually found a decently nice male to talk to. You two chatted for a while, and as the end of the night drew closer, you decided to shoot your shot.
“So, I don’t really do this, but do you wanna come home with me?” You ask the male nervously.” The lights of the bar turn on, indicating that it’s closing time.
“Yeah I-“ he pauses, looking you over. His eyes go wide and he backs away. “No. I can’t go home with you. I should’ve never talked to you.” He hurries off quickly, almost seeming frightened.
You turn towards Mor with a confused look, trying to ignore the hurt you feel from the harsh rejection. Did you really look that different with the lights on, you wonder.
The next day, you were in your room telling Feyre about the night before, trying to understand what went wrong.
“I don’t get it, Fey. We were having such a nice conversation. I was sure that he would agree to come home with me. But as soon as the lights came on and he saw me, he ran off. I didn’t think I looked that bad in the light.” You complain, flopping back onto your bed. Feyre choked on her drink for a moment, seeming startled.
“He didn’t…” she mutters to herself, shaking her head.
“What?” You sit up, confused. Feyre gets a far-off expression, likely speaking to Rhys in her mind about something. “What is it Feyre?” You ask curiously. She groans.
“The other day I overheard Az and Rhys talking, and Azriel made a joke about how he could just threaten all the males in Velaris that they can’t go anywhere near you. I assumed he was kidding, but I just asked Rhys about it, and apparently he wasn’t.” Feyre explains awkwardly.
“Are you kidding me?” You yell as you shoot up off the bed and storm out your door, muttering some apology to Feyre about having to leave.
———
You put a city-wide ban on dating me?” You scream angrily as you storm into Azriel’s room, not bothering to knock.
“Yeah, I did.” Azriel smirks at you.
“What the fuck Azriel? You don't have some claim over me! Call it off.” You shout.
“No.” His firm, unyielding voice gives you goosebumps.
“Stop it with the territorial male bullshit. It won’t change anything, so call it off!” You try to keep up the anger in your voice, but as Azriel stalks closer, you lose your boldness.
“I’m not calling it off.” His voice is dangerously low.
“Why not?” You mutter. Azriel leans closer.
“Because eventually you will realize that you still want to be with me, and when you do I don’t want anyone getting in the way of that.” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver slightly.
“I told you before. I’m done.” You try to sound confident, but it doesn’t come out quite right.
“Sure you are. Whenever you decide you wanna change that answer, I’ll be here.” He says with a wink. As you leave you feel conflicted. This may be the most territorial male bullshit you have ever witnessed, but you can’t help but smile slightly, realizing that Azriel basically just publicly announced his feelings toward you.
———
You lasted two days without returning to visit Azriel. You had told yourself it was to yell at him some more, but deep down you knew it wasn’t. Azriel opens his door after hearing you knock and looks genuinely surprised to see you.
“You win. You managed to scare off any decent male in Velaris. So congrats, I’m all yours.” You concede reluctantly.
“It was never about winning, sweetheart.” He shuts the door behind you, caging you between him and the door. You look up at him earnestly.
“Then what was it about?” You ask.
“It’s about getting a second chance to prove to you that I was an idiot. It’s about the fact that I will spend every single day for the rest of my existence trying to prove to you that I love you, and praying to the Mother that you decide to let me show you.” He whispers, leaning closer. You look up at him, seeing that hopeful look in his eyes again.
“Just one more chance?” Your voice comes out so soft he almost doesn’t hear you.
“One more chance, I promise that’s all I’ll need. I don’t plan on ever doing anything to mess it up again.” He answers sincerely.
“Okay then.” He doesn’t get a moment to process that you agreed before you pull his face towards yours, closing the gap between your lips. He immediately pulls your body into his and runs his hands through your hair.
“Thank the gods.” He murmurs into the kiss. You pull away for a moment.
“By the way, I love you too, Az.”
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yes that last little bit about the dating ban was inspired by the deal by elle kennedy, but i just thought that was so funny and i believe without a doubt that Az could threaten all of Velaris to stay away from you
prompt list
taglist: @fxckmiup
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parkerslatte · 5 months
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Finding Home || Part One
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: loneliness.
Summary: Azriel never thought he would find someone who loves him. Everyone around him has their own life and family and he feels like he is floating between them with no real purpose. When he meets someone in the rain, everything might begin to change.
Finding Home Masterlist
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
A/N: I might make this into a series if people enjoy it…because I have many ideas.
•••
In his whole life, Azriel just wanted to be loved by someone. Over his five centuries of existence, he has taken plenty of lovers, both females and males. Though to each and every one of the people he had lain with, he never felt any sort of attachment to them. They had never spent the night with him, when he awoke in the morning, the other side of the bed was empty and cold, a clear indication that they had left hours before. Some left a small note thanking him for a good night but most left with no word never to be seen again. 
At the beginning, this did not affect Azriel. He was simply young and looking for a bit of fun. But as time has gone on, the more Azriel longed to wake up next to someone. To have the side of the bed warm and the sound of his love walking about the house. To feel the soft caress of their skin as they fell asleep with each other's arms. Whispers of loving words exchanged before they both drifted to that relaxing, unconscious space only dreaming of one another. 
Azriel longed for that. He longed for a home. He longed for his own family. 
Nyx was nearly ten years old and Feyre was again pregnant with her and Rhys’s second child. Cassian had recently told Azriel that he and Nesta were trying for a child. Azriel was happy for them, elated even. But there was a small stinging pain in his heart. The pain of knowing that his family was moving on with their own lives without him. They each had their own families to care for and worry about. He was no one's priority. 
At Solstice, Azriel was always the one standing on the sidelines. Rhys had Feyre. Cassian and Nesta. Lucien had Elain. Mor had Emerie. Amren had Varien. Every single member of his family had someone that they cared for and would die to protect. Azriel could only wish he had that type of love. 
There was once a time where he thought he and Elain could work out. Three sisters for three brothers, it all made sense in Azriel’s mind. But after that initial lust faded away, Azriel realised how incompatible they were. Their conversations turned stale and awkward and Azriel would always catch her sneaking glances at Lucien. It wasn’t long before Elain began to pursue the youngest Vanserra– leaving Azriel alone once again. 
Currently, Azriel swirled his whisky around in his glass. He hadn’t taken a sip from it as he stood near the door. It was Solstice and all the presents had been exchanged and now everyone was happily sitting and talking, lounging around on the couches and chairs. Azriel was the only one not sitting. His shadows swirled around the room, as they usually did whenever everyone was together. If anything were to attack, Azriel would be the first line of defence. Everyone else had a family or were going to have a family, they had everything to lose– he didn’t. 
There was a pull at the bottom of Azriel’s trouser leg and he glanced down. Elain and Lucien’s one year old daughter sat there smiling up at him. Azriel offered her a smile as one of his shadows caressed her cheek and she let out a delighted giggle. Using his pant leg, she heaved herself from the floor and demanded to be picked up. Azriel’s face clouded over in amusement as he bent down and took the young fae into his arms. 
The girl simply looked around, not used to being up so high. Azriel watched her look of amusement with fondness. Her red hair bright in the dim lighting of the room, and her deep brown eyes wide in wonder. 
“Hycinth?” Elain said as she looked around for her daughter before relaxing once she found her in Azriel’s arms. 
As soon as the young girl heard her mother, she struggled to get out of Azriel’s arms and he let her down without a fuss. She crawled over to her mother and up onto her lap while Lucien watched his daughter fondly. Azriel folded his arms across his chest, his heart feeling like it was being poked by a million pins. Nyx was sleeping with his head resting on Rhys’s. Nesta was sitting in Cassian’s lap, looking so in love with each other that it made Azriel stop breathing. The same went for all of the couples, they had so much love for each other that they could only focus within their small circle. 
None of them even noticed when Azriel slipped out of the house and into the night. 
It was raining when Azriel got outside, his clothes immediately soaked through and his hair was plastered to his forehead. Though he didn’t care in the slightest, he continued to walk through the torrential downpour until he made it to a bench by the park. 
He should have stayed at the house, it would only bring to the surface more questions as to why Azriel was distancing himself from his family. Seeing them altogether was always bittersweet for Azriel. Of course he loved his family, he always would, but seeing them together with their own families and their own lives. Azriel was not sure where he slotted in amongst them anymore. He didn’t have anyone to love. He didn’t have his own family. He was alone. 
The rain continued around him and Azriel didn’t move. The chill of the wind and his soaked clothes only made him colder but he didn’t care. He would stay here all night if he had to, for the rain to wash away everything he had been feeling tonight. Tomorrow he would start with a clean slate, maybe he would feel better about everything tomorrow. Azriel hoped when he woke up everyday that this was the answer. He hoped that he woke up one day and did not care. But Azriel knew that the cycle was always doomed to repeat itself. 
As Azriel was deep within his own thoughts, he failed to notice the rain no longer falling upon him. It fell around him but never on him. He wasn’t broken from his continuous strain of thoughts until he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. 
Azriel’s head snapped in the direction the touch came from, his shadows swirled around his shoulders like snakes preparing to strike. What Azriel didn’t expect was a female holding an umbrella over his head, staging at him with concern. 
“Are you okay?” she asked. “It’s just…you’ve been sitting here for an hour. I walked past earlier to buy some bread and you were here and I’m on my way home now and you are still here. I just wanted to know if you were okay.”
Azriel was at a loss for words. Anything that he could say was lost on the tip of his tongue. Articulating his feelings was never his strong point. 
“It’s raining a lot,” the female said, trying to have a conversation. “It seems to be raining a lot more recently. Have you noticed?”
“I have noticed,” Azriel muttered.
“So he does speak,” the female said, a small smile gracing her features. 
Azriel met her eyes, and for some reason, he felt himself smiling back. It was probably barely noticeable to her but to him, the feeling felt foreign. 
“So,” the female said, taking a seat on the bench next to Azriel. “Are you okay?”
With a heavy sigh, Azriel answered, “No, actually. I’m not. It’s Solstice, I should be spending it with my family but I’m sitting out here in the rain alone.” Azriel couldn’t stop the words freely flowing from his mouth. “I tried to enjoy myself, I really did. But all of them each have someone they love to celebrate with. They each have someone to go home with and have their own celebration. They have children or are going to have children and I’m just there by myself. I just constantly feel so–”
“Alone?” the female cut in.
Azriel’s gaze met hers and she held a sympathetic expression on her face. “Yes. I feel alone. And I don’t even know why I am telling you this. I don’t even know you.”
The female shrugged. “Sometimes it's good to get things off your chest, even if it's someone you don’t know. It can sometimes be bad to keep everything bottled up.”
Azriel relaxed his shoulders the smallest amount. “I do feel slightly better after getting that off my chest.”
The female smiled brightly. It somehow lit up the darkness around them. “I’m glad I could help you relieve some tension you are holding in those shoulders. I’m Y/N by the way.”
“Y/N,” Azriel repeated her name. It felt right coming from his mouth. “I’m Azriel.”
Y/N looked away sheepishly. “I did have an idea of who you are.”
“Oh,” Azriel replied, feeling slightly disappointed. 
“I didn’t know when I first walked over here,” Y/N said. “I only realised when one of your shadows did this.”
Y/N held up her arm and one of Azriel’s shadows lightly caressed her wrist. Azriel’s eyes widened. 
“I’m so sorry,” Azriel replied, reeling in all of his shadows. “They don’t normally do that.”
Y/N chuckled slightly and it was a melodic sound that cut through the air. “It’s okay.”
Azriel nodded before he looked down at the ground. “So, why are you out on Solstice?”
Y/N offered him a tight lipped smile. “Well, my friends all have their own large families to spend Solstice with. I was invited to a few of their houses but decided to stay home and have a night to myself. I’m only out because I needed to pick up some bread because I wanted to make a sandwich.”
“Are you not lonely?” Azriel asked the question before he could even stop himself.
Y/N shook her head. “Not anymore. At first I was, I mean when your friends start moving on without you, everything seems to change so fast. All of their time was taken up by their children and partner. But as time went on, I began to get used to it and realise that I’m not lonely as I have people around me that love me and support me. I am simply choosing to be alone right now,” Y/N said. “And I’m glad I did, because I wouldn’t have bumped into you. Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome.”
Azriel flushed and looked down at his feet, not expecting the compliment. Y/N simply laughed. That melodic tone once again cutting through the air.
“Do you want to come back to mine?” Y/N asked. “I can make us sandwiches?”
Azriel knew his answer immediately but took a moment to answer as if he was contemplating the decision. He didn’t want to look too eager. “I would like that.”
Y/N smiled brightly. “Come on then! The sooner we get there, the sooner I can change into some dry clothes.”
Azriel looked at her and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. While she had been shielding him with her umbrella, she hadn’t held it above herself, causing her clothes to soak through, much like Azriel’s.
“Take the umbrella back,” Azriel said, pushing her hand away that was clutching the umbrella.
“No,” Y/N said stubbornly and grabbed Azriel’s arm and forced the umbrella into his hand and folded her arms across her chest. “You take it and keep hold of it until we get to my apartment. Now come on.”
Azriel followed her and fell into pace next to her. Even though she was putting on a determined face, Azriel could see through the facade as she shivered as the cold rain poured down upon her. Stretching one of his wings, Azriel lifted it until it shielded her from the rain the best he could. Y/N looked up at him in surprise, her shivering ceasing the smallest amount as his wing blocked out the wind. 
Y/N smiled at him as she hesitantly wrapped her hand around his arm. “You are getting my most amazing sandwich for that.”
A full smile bloomed on Azriel’s face as he walked with Y/N to her apartment. Maybe he didn’t need to be so alone after all.
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azrielbrainrot · 2 months
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore
Word Count: 5550
Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!
Part 5 ○ Part 7
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The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.
You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.
Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.
It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.
The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.
Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.
The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.
The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.
“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.
You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.
His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.
The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.
He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.
“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.
Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.
Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.
As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.
“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.
“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.
Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.
He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.
All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.
Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.
“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.
You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.
“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”
“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.
“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.
“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.
“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”
“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.
“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.
“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.
Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.
“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”
“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.
“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”
You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.
Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.
“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”
“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.
You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”
“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.
“Azriel-”
“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”
“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”
“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?
His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.
Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.
The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.
This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.
You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.
Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.
The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.
You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.
Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.
Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.
“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.
“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.
“What do you mean?”
“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.
Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.
You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.
When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.
It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.
You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.
Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift your face to his, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.
You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.
All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.
You're finally free.
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acotarxreader · 2 months
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Shadow and Flame pt. 1
Azriel X Reader
Synopsis: Azriel is down bad in his feelings for Elain when a new female crosses his path. The job of the Shadowsinger is to know all and yet you evade his knowledge.
Warnings: None
A/N: Hello. This is my first time writing a fanfic for this series. I hope you like it ✨
Part Two
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“Whilst we wait for Lucien, let's play a game. Fuck, Mate, Kill, High Lords edition, our own brother excluded of course. I mean there's days I want to do all to him”
“Ugh Cass” Nesta recoiled at her own mates idea of a bar game, the group laughing. 
“Hardly fair to Feyre when she's done or almost done those to more than two already” Rhys growled at Mors joking tone, the table continuing its howling. Rita's music swelled around the booth of the best friends, lightheartedness well and truly arriving once again to the group. 
“Az you go first”
“I politely decline Cass” protests followed his words 
“Leave poor forlorn Az alone”
“I am not forlorn Amren” the Shadowsinger tried his best to not grit out the words.
“I would consider pining after Elain to be pretty forlorn” Amren gestured with her head to the middle Archeron sister making her way  back to the booth balancing a tray of drinks.
“Stop saying that word” this time Azriel couldn't hide his annoyance.
“-Right well anyways, I think we'd all kill Tamlin -” the group hummed in agreement to Cass as Azriels mind disengaged from the conversation. 
Was that how he'd been feeling? Had the feelings of creeping crawling rising abandonment at the hands of his brothers for their mates affected him more than he thought? Why couldn't he have what they had with Elain? It made sense to him, but why didn't it make sense to the Mother? He shook this from his head as he frequently did. Elain joined the table once again, passing around the drinks. 
Azriel tore his eyes from her movements and landed them on the crowd of dancing Velaris residents, when a new figure approaching the bar top had his eyes transfixed.
He watched the female dip between the crowd so masterfully as if she was made of the same shadows that rested peaceful around him. She effortlessly passed the dancing Fae in candlelight.
“Earth to Az” Cass’ hand waved in front of his hazel eyes pulling Azriel back to the booth for a moment to sweep away his brother's paw. His eyes darted back to the room to find the female gone again. 
“What is it Lassie, Timmy stuck down the well?”
“What does that even mean Cass?” Azriel couldn't ignore the bizarre statement.
“I'm not sure, I read it in a human book once”
“I didn't know you could read” Cass feigned hurt at Feyres comment, the table of friends laughing. 
“Up until about last week you definitely couldn't Feyre” 
“Uncalled for!” Freye laughed hard at Cass’ comeback.
“Anyways, what is it Az….Az?” Cass found the seat next to him empty, the Shadowsinger long mingled into the crowd.
You reached the bar top skillfully, your hand reaching up and retrieving a drink ordered by someone else and dipping back to your side before the bartender noticed. You gave a small smile into the tumbler of icy brown liquor as you turned back into the room, ready to push back off. Your gaze immediately caught the Shadowsingers eyes as he leaned on the back wall watching you. He simply raised an eyebrow with a small smirk. You sighed lowly, replacing the drink back on the bar top next to a tea light candle without removing your eyes from Azriels. You narrowed your eyes at him, the crowd dancing and swirling across your sightline. Azriel finally blinked and found you gone from the spot when his eyes flickered back open. 
You crossed the threshold of Rita's into the streets, a little startled someone had seen you, a new occurrence. 
“You don't care for another drink?” The males voice stopped you in your tracks at the mouth of the adjacent alley. You curled your hands into small fists and exhaled out. Caught. You had been caught.
“Don't go shy on me now” you slowly span on your heel to face the male. Azriel felt his breath hitch slightly at the sight of you in the firelit street lights. He felt a bit dazzled by your beauty, piercing copper eyes previously inhibited by the dim and smoky light of Rita's. 
“Can I help you Azriel?
“How do you know me?” He couldn't hide the hint of surprise in his voice. You closed your eyes gently, sighing deeply at your foolish slip up before opening them again. 
“I don't”
“Why don't I believe that? Who are you?”
“If I told you that, I'd have to kill you” you gave a small smile, angling your head gently, tempting him to step in closer to your magnetic eyes. 
“I'd like to see you try”
“That can be arranged Shadowsinger” he scoffed at your cocky tone. You turned back to face the alley, quickly dipping down it but not fast enough. Azriel flashed before you, sidestepping you to where your back met the cold brick of the alley. 
“I asked your name” he stepped in close to you, your eyes looking to the exit to the side of him, only to have his wings open slightly to trap you inwards. You sighed, looking up through your eyelashes to find his eyes fixated downwards on you. 
“I'm not anyone important”
“Nonsense, every resident of Velaris is important“
“And who said I was a resident of Velaris?” you couldn't hide your smugness from him as he seemed to scan your face further, checking it again the rolodex of Fae in his mind to find a gap in knowledge. 
His shadows leapt around him in alarm at being caught out with a stranger. A true stranger. Who were you? Shadows crossed his face to try to relay information and when they settled again you were gone from in front of him. 
His wings dropped, his head turning uncharacteristically frantically from side to side only to now find you across the street. You gave a small wave with just your finger tips with a small gloating laugh before running down and into the winding streets of Velaris. Azriel moved to follow you only to crash right into Lucien.
“Are you never not in my way?!” Azriel couldn't help but bark at the emissary.
“Hello Azriel, how are you? I'm good thanks for asking? Yes I do forgive you for walking into me, of course I-”
“Just leave it” Azriel signed, ducking around him to run to cross the street. It was no good, you were gone he thought, but how? And who? 
*************
“Az stop pacing, you're not helping the hangover” Cassian ran his hands down his green tinged face, regretting going as hard as he had the night previous. Lucien giving a small laugh to the Illyrian, picking himself up from the sofa to head to the kitchen for tea.
“I have no idea who she was and that's my job. How could I not know who she was?”
“I'm not sure Az but Cass is right, please sit down, you're giving us all motion sickness” Rhysand joined the group in the sitting room of the town house, a soothing tincture for Feyre in his hands. She smiled up lovingly at her mates gesture, more pangs of jealousy passed through Azriel. 
“Let me see into your mind Az, I'll draw her, maybe one of us knows her” Azriel weighed up Feyres offer. He hated letting them behind his shields but he needed to know who you were. He thought of your face in the candle light again, did he want to share you with the world? He weighed up the options before agreeing, Mor having already retrieved a scrap of paper and a pencil for Feyre. 
The group gathered around the sketch of you freshly drawn. One by one group shook their heads, unsure of the Fae in front of them, sending Azriels heart sinking again. 
Lucien strolled back into the sitting room, tea tray in hand. The crash of the tray had the group's startled reaction landing on the Emissary. 
“Oh my Gods seriously! My head” Cassian groaned, covering his face with a throw pillow. Lucien took almost erratic steps over the broken china towards the drawing, snatching it from the knee height table and gathering it into his chest. The group now entirely addled by his reaction.
“Lucien?” Feyre was the first to break the quizzical silence. 
“Nothing! This is no one!” Lucien's skillful way with words was now long gone.
“Who is that?” Rhysand and Azriel almost asked in unison.
“It's no one I said! Leave it! I have to go, sorry for the mess!” He darted for the hallway, Azriel hot on his heels. 
“Lucien, who is that? What do you know?” The Shadowsingers sharp tone tried to stop Lucien in his tracks.
“It's no one, you didn't see her, forget it, stay away from her”
“Which is it, stay away from her or I didn't see her?” this silenced the Prince of Foxes. 
“I have to go!” His panicked tone was betraying him. Azriel went to catch him harshly, Lucien winnowing out avoiding capture leaving Azriel once again confused and alone
*****************
Part Two
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bonesandchalamet · 1 month
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admission - azriel
masterlist | pairing: azriel x fem!reader summary: a man who never shares his secrets learns how to admit the truth. warnings: none (at least to my knowledge) a/n: I’ve spent the last month reading acotar series and I’ve fallen in love with azriel 🫣 I’ve been MIA bc school but I’m back!!
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those dark black eyes.
if you’d been oblivious, you’d take them as just azriel being distant, and cold. but spending centuries along side him, those eyes yearned for something you could never place a finger on.
he doesn’t show much expression, that was a given, but azriel showed a lot more to you in past months than he’d shown his own friends.
maybe it was always because he could feel you reading right through him. you saw exhaustion, anger, and disappointment where others saw a mask of him.
he couldn’t shy away from you, he’d given up all his fighting to let you work yourself into him and ease the pain or burden.
“Rita’s?” cassian turned to azriel, his eyes glimmer with a playful excitement that he could never mimic back. his dear friend had a way of making him stay out, dance or drink until the pinks and blues danced across the sky.
“pass.” was all azriel could get himself to say. the whole dinner he was silent, often how it went, but your eyes played a conversation that nobody else was apart of. your own secret language.
“y/n?”
shaking your head, you catch Mor’s frown, but she understood. in someway, you think she caught onto you and azriel, but if she did she was silent. and if anybody caught onto it they knew azriel wouldn’t fight them, but rather show them to never speak a word about it. protective, he’d once called it, idiocy is what you saw it as.
swirling the wine in your glass, you take a final sip before dismissing yourself from the long evening. your home was only a block away, and having spent all morning training feyre with cassian, you were exhausted.
azriel would stay longer. he’d stay until cassian and mor left for Rita’s and then find his way home to you. it’d been a day of reporting to his spies and keeping his head down until dinner time where he could actually enjoy something: you.
public affection was not azriel. even if it was, he’d never show his vulnerability to the world and risk losing you. he spent the better half of his life fighting darkness, only to have it wiped away the second you entered his life. it was evident to his friends he was much lighter in previous times, but he’d always shrugged it off and told them there was a price for prying into his life.
“headed out soon?” feyre was the first to bite, her body swaying in the seat beside rhys, a bit tipsy off the wine.
shrugging was his typical answer, and that’s what he’d given her in hopes the conversation would change, and luckily amren could read a room. unlike a few others at the table.
another hour passed and Rita’s seemed to be the next stop for the group. azriel joined them on the way out the door, but instead of heading into town he headed to you. he’d let them have that bit of knowledge, even if he knew tomorrow would be another round of begging for information.
instead of winnowing in, he takes the front door, allows you to listen to the lock of the door, his boots clattering against the wood floors. he knows all time spent signaling his arrival, is time you spent readying for him.
the creeks of the wood from below bring a flutter to your heart. you pull back the white silk sheets, fluff his pillow like you always do, and seat yourself on the edge of the bed waiting for the dark fuming cloud to whisk away into your arms.
“long day?” you ask watching him slip into your room and immediately discard his black shirt off his back. your arms were outstretched for him, and he moves towards you allowing your warmth to work its way into his body until he was nothing but mush and happiness.
your soft delicate fingers worked the muscles of his body, allowing him to lean into your touch, he rants about the little things he wouldn’t dare tell anybody else.
“what about you?” his voice a faint whisper into the air, “your day, I mean.”
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, lips pressing against his rough skin, “better now.”
“you can always tell me more.” azriel sits up out of your grip, he spins away from your body, turning so you’re both facing each other, “I listen well.”
a chuckle escapes your lips before you press them onto his, “you hold too many secrets, az, I’d never burden you with more.”
his brows furrow, “burden?” the words echo off his lips like it was a new word and he’d never heard it before, “you could never.”
you bite your bottom lip, as if contemplating to tell him how training feyre was more like an ass beating or how cassian makes you want to bang his head into wall and shove him down a flight of stairs. though, you’d never tell him the worst of it all. you could tell him always the little things.
he takes your silence away, lips pressing hard against yours, a gasp is your reaction. his fingers work the little bit of lace you’d left on for him, and suddenly you’re back is pressed against the sheets, his membranous wings are coddling you like a cocoon.
“a secret for a secret.” he whispers in the dark purple and black enclosure, his eyes are all you can see beside some faint outlines of his face.
“you first,” you whisper into the darkness, your fingers pressed against his warm skin wishing to pull him closer.
“I think I always knew I loved you.” he whispered into the darkness. he couldn’t see your eyes, you must’ve closed them to give him the privacy for admission, but when you open them, deep swirls of violet and black stare into yours with passion, “your turn.”
“i wish you let me love you for the world to see.” you say looking up for the white walls, but only to find the darkness of his wings surrounding you.
“did you know you can’t mask your face like me?” he removes himself from around you, allowing the bright lights of the night sky to return to your vision and the white walls to ache after darkness.
you roll your eyes. the countless hours of him trying, but failing, to get you to to hide your facial expressions weren’t a reminder of it all. you could never hide your love or even far worse expressions from the world to see.
“I say this, because they already know.” he emphasizes. you’d had small hints of the inner circle knowing, but you’d brushed it off as just another way to get under your skin because Azriel always put the group in their place.
“mor knows, at least suspects.” you turn your attention to him. you read him in the way he hates, but so desperately loves. you can feel his hesitation to touch you, but when you reach out and place your hair down his torso, he reaches for your cheek.
“mor knows you’re my mate.” a breath hitches in him before he continues, “and Rhys acts like he doesn’t know, but he’s also just like you,” he taps his finger against your nose, his face inching closer, “horrible with facial expressions.”
you attempt to roll away from him, before he pulls you back into his body, a perfect fit for his, “so now will you tell me what’s bothering you? I’ve admitted far too much tonight.” his lips hover your neck, his warmth heats your body that you can’t help but sink into it.
“I suppose I can.”
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