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#Azriel One Shot
illyrianbitch · 30 days
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Back to Our Roots
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Pairing: Reader x Azriel
Summary: With the Acheron sisters out of town, you and your family plan for a quiet night in— just like old times.
Warnings: drug use, just fun lil high times tbh. Az being a cute partner, Cassian and Reader being best friend and war strategy planning goals
Word Count: 2.3k
An installment of the Mirthroot Mini-Series
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
As if she had sensed their arrival, Mor squeezed through your half-opened door and shut it swiftly behind her, wearing a sly smile that made Rhysand instantly still. 
“Heyy, guys.”
Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a look before bringing their attention to the blonde in front of them once more, her body angled awkwardly to block the entirety of your doorway.
“Mor,” Rhys said, eyeing her with a scrutinizing gaze, “Why do you look so guilty?”
She held his gaze for a moment, her mouth falling open slightly as she blinked. Then, she casted a glance to her side before giving a small sheepish smile “Because I am?”
Rhysand’s eyes narrowed even more. “Is that a question or an admission?”
Mor’s smile widened as she gave a small shrug. 
“Mor.”
Her eyes were brought to Azriel as he spoke, an expression on his face that mirrored that of Rhysands. His shadows hadn’t warned him of any imminent danger, hadn’t informed him of any threats. Yet Mor stood in front of him with a sense of suspicion he wasn’t able to read. 
She remained quiet, opting to raise a brow at him instead.
“Morrigan.”
Mor's smile faltered. "I had no part in this. It was their idea, I swear," she admitted.
Rhys dipped his chin slightly. "Whose?" 
"Y/n and Cass.”
Azriel had grown tired of the conversation, of the strange stalling Mor was attempting to do. The mention of your name snapped the last threat of his patience, and with a swift and determined movement, he brushed past Mor, his expression unreadable as he entered your home. Instantly, his shadows slithered along the walls and floors, guiding him unerringly toward you.
Mor trailed after him, her steps quickening. "Truly, I didn't realize how... well, you'll see," she called after Azriel, her voice echoing in the hallway.
It had been a long day. Azriel was looking forward to relaxing tonight, to spending time with his family in a way he hadn’t been able to recently, not when there had been so many concerns, so many threats to worry about.  Driven by his eagerness to see you, and a small growing fear that had nestled into his heart at Mor’s welcome, he paid little attention to the subtle noises drifting around him or the faint aroma that began to fill the air. 
It didn’t properly hit him until he began opening the dainty glass doors to your living room. 
As they swung open, Azriel was instantly hit by a powerful scent, his hand flying to his nose reflexively.  Earthy and woody, with a sharp edge that hinted at… skunk?
Azriel blinked.
He recognized this smell. It was one he knew deeply— one he hadn't encountered in what felt like centuries. Blinking rapidly, Azriel squinted to see through the dense cloud that enveloped the room, the air thick and difficult to breathe. With his vision obscured, he could barely make out the shapes on the ground before him. But quickly, through the haze, he discerned your and Cassian's forms, laying leisurely amidst the swirling smoke.
A smile tugged at his lips. 
From behind him, Azriel heard the shuffling of Mor and Rhysand as they entered the room, a strong cough following their entrance. 
Rhysand let out a whistle, walking to stand next to Azriel. “Damn.”
Despite the three new presences in your living room, neither you nor Cassian seemed to notice. The cloudiness of the room, now seemingly thicker than before, suggested to Azriel that you and Cassian were indeed on a completely different level than him and Rhysand– than Mor, as well, from what he could gather. 
You laid on the ground, your hair messily sprawled over your soft rug, eyes closed in bliss, a gentle laughter escaping your lips. Azriel could make out the movements of Cassian’s frame beside you as he mirrored your laughter.
"It's been like this for hours. I thought it would wear off by now," Mor murmured. 
Azriel turned his head to look at her, watching as she walked over to one of your bookshelves. She picked up a small container before turning around.
"I guess it's just... really strong?" Mor offered, her expression marked by furrowed brows and a hint of uncertainty. She offered the container towards Rhys with an extended hand. 
Rhysand grabbed it gently, examining it before giving it a light squeeze, the top popping off with a small sound. He brought it to his nose. Instantly, he recoiled with yet another small cough. 
“Gods, Mor. That is horribly potent.”
Azriel grabbed the container next, bringing it up to smell in the same manner his brother had. Faintly, he felt the cool slick of his shadows as they snaked up his body, a few around his arms, a few curling around his ears in curiosity, attempting to get a better look. The scent tickled his nostrils and he drew back, his shadows mirroring his movements as if the scent had, somehow, also hit them too. Azriel looked up through his brows, casting a quick glance over to where you laid.
“This has rootdust,” Azriel stated, holding up the container for emphasis. “Mor, this is basically all rootdust.”
Mirthroot was a tricky herb to work around. You and Azriel had your fair share of expertise, spending many of your younger years sneaking out into the mountains to smoke together. All of you dabbled, at some point,  with holidays spent at the cabin covered in smoke. You and Az had a habit of collecting as much rootdust as possible, a tradition of making the last smoke of the holiday the strongest one— a grand finish, you used to say. Azriel always loved it. But it had been years, and from what Az could tell, Mor wasn’t as skilled as she once was in recognizing the quality of what she was taking in.
“Oh,” Mor breathed out. “Well. I guess we got a really good deal then, huh?”
Rhysand let out an amused breath. “Are you telling me that Cassian and Y/n have been smoking the most highly concentrated part of mirthroot casually?”
“For hours?” Azriel added.
Mor sheepishly smiled once more, "Like I said– it was their idea," she responded, her tone laced with a hint of amusement.
With a thoughtful hum, Azriel turned away from Mor, his gaze now fixed on you. He made his way towards you, his shadows leaping forward eagerly, swirling around him like excited children. Within seconds, they reached your form, gently dancing around your body in movements that elicited soft giggles from your lips. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, curiosity flickering within them as you lifted your hands to watch the shadows playfully run along your hands.
Azriel watched as the realization dawned on you. With a sudden burst of energy, you sprang up from the ground, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you looked up at him. Cassian's head snapped back in surprise, his own grin widening as he caught sight of his brother. 
"Az!" you exclaimed with a big grin, a sheer joy evident in your voice that made his heart flutter. 
His gaze swept over the coffee table next to you, noting the scattered papers, remnants of ash, and the loose mirthroot nuggets. He let out a laugh at the array of snacks messily spread amongst the herbs, crumbs from what he could only assume were some sort of baked goods— cookies, his shadows informed him. Chocolate chip. He met your eyes again with a grin. 
"Hi, gorgeous," he greeted warmly. 
With a gentle ease, he made a move to sit down next to you, his movements accompanied by the subtle sound of his knees cracking in response. He lowered himself to your rug, leaning his back against the couch as you scrambled to reposition yourself, your movements slow and uncoordinated. Somehow you managed to settle yourself between his legs, pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You craned your head to look up at him.
Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at your face, illuminated by a wide grin that stretched across your lips. Your eyes were narrowed and slightly puffy, a faint blush painted on your cheeks. Still gorgeous, Az thought, always so gorgeous. A shadow brushed over your cheek, moving to push back a stray strand of your hair. 
Cassian’s voice disrupted the moment in a small whine. "Hey, what about me?" 
In unison, both you and Azriel moved your heads to look at him, watching as Cassian’s eyes floated between you two. Just like you, Cassian’s eyelids were puffy and half-lidded as he held your stares.
Azriel let out a small snicker. "Hey,” he said.
“What?” Cassian's expression shifted into a frown. "Am I not gorgeous?" 
You gasped in mock horror, your body pushing up with the force of the sound. "You are so gorgeous!" you exclaimed earnestly.
Cassian seemed content at the answer, a small smile gracing his face. His gaze then shifted to Azriel, and you followed suit, both of you staring at him with eager eyes. The sight itself was more amusing than anything Az had seen recently, two of the most feared members of the Night Court staring at him like two curious animals.
Azriel flicked his eyes between the two of you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. With a laugh-sigh, he looked at his brother.  "You're so gorgeous," he affirmed, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Cassian's gaze lingered on Azriel as he continued. "So gorgeous. If I didn't have her," he gestured towards you, then waved his hand casually, "Nesta would have competition, brother. I mean—"
 "Ah, suck a fat one, Az,” Cassian grumbled, pouting to himself as he leaned against the coffee table. “Can't take anything seriously."
Azriel grinned at the response, pulling you closer to his chest as you laughed, the sound caressing him with a familiar warmth. His gaze was pulled up as Mor and Rhysand approached the rug, both wearing amused smiles on their lips.
"We run late and you decide to have all the fun by yourself?" Rhysand teased, raising the container in his hand.
"Actually," Cassian responded, his voice carrying a hint of excitement, "Y/n and I were discussing some strategies."
Rhysand's amusement only seemed to grow at the comment.  "Strategies?"
Azriel felt your nod against him. 
With a grin, Cassian leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "For, you know, Koschei," he added, emphasizing the last word with a mischievous sloppy wink. Mor snorted at the sight, a laugh falling from her lips. 
Rhys glanced between Mor and Azriel.  "And?"
Cassian's grin widened, "And we solved it."
Rhysand's gaze returned to Azriel, whose eyebrows lifted in surprise, the corners of his lips turned upwards. "You did?"
Cassian leaned back, with a confident nod. "Ohhh yeah. Tell 'em, Y/n," he prompted eagerly.
You shifted into a new position, leaning sideways against Azriel, as you moved your gaze between all of them. Even the movement of your head was slow, sluggish, and Azriel wondered just how well you were able to see all of them considering how closed your eyes were. 
"Koschei is confined to the lake, right?" 
The room went quiet as you continued to move your gaze between your family, silence falling upon the group as they waited for you to continue. When a beat passed, Azriel met your gaze, understanding dawning in his eyes as he realized you were seeking confirmation. "Right, yes," he responded with a nod, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you grinned at him.
"So,” you paused, the grin spreading across your face, "what if," you continued, your voice tinged with excitement, “we just drain the lake?"
You and Cassian exchanged a look.
“What’s he gonna go without a lake?” Cass emphasized, “Nothing.”
“Exactly. And we get free water. We could make a pool.”
Finishing your sentence with a sound of content, you looked between everyone in the room. Cassian nodded enthusiastically, as if your combined strategy was the strongest plan he’d come up with in centuries. And he was really excited about that damn pool.
There was a sleek silence as your words were processed. 
And then Mor’s reaction came first.
"Oh my Gods," she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth in amusement. 
Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a knowing glance before Rhysand let out a bellowing laugh, the sound echoing across the room as he ran his hand down his face.
"That is," he managed to say between laughs, “The best thing I’ve ever heard.”
Azriel looked down at you with a smile that threatened to split his cheeks, small chuckles reverberating through his chest. 
You stared up at him, leaning your head closer to his. "Right?" you chimed in eagerly, seeking validation for your idea. “Right?’
He nodded, unable to resist leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly. "Genius plan, my love," he praised softly. 
"I know," you replied with a satisfied grin.
With another laugh, Mor walked to her cousin and grabbed the small container from his hand, eliciting a small eyebrow raise in response. 
"For old times' sake," she declared with a grin. With a small groan, she settled down next to Cassian, nudging him to make room. She looked over her shoulder, "Maybe we can brainstorm how it was possible for you to accidentally send a love letter meant for Feyre to Cassian.”
Rhysand’s mouth dropped as he let out a small scoff.
"That happened once!" 
“Wait,” Cassian frowned. "That wasn’t for me?" 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
i wrote this while on mirthroot *cough cough* so ignore any typos
p.s i want to make an entire mirthroot series with fun one-shots just cause i luv the idea of the IC just getting time to relax and do silly goofy stuff like recreational drugs (i’m also a stoner so this is my territory 🙏🏻). should i? yes no maybe so (3/9 update: it has been created!! Read the Mirthroot Mini-Series
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sillymercury · 9 days
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“What Are You Doing?”
“I… Was Told There Was an Emergency...”
AzrielxReader
<3
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Warnings: none other than the lack of proof reading :p
Word count: 5.5k
(meant to be a blurb lol ig idk how to do that)
Summary: Azriel’s shadows have decided that they found someone far more interesting to listen to.
Thank you @kayjayjwrites for this ask, I’ve had a lot of fun writing it. Sorry it came a little later than I said it would but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
<3
A yawn escaped Azriel as he stared down the papers on his desk. He was behind, three missions he put off documenting. He honestly wouldn’t have done it if Rhys wasn’t hounding him saying he wasn’t getting another job until he was caught up.
He didn’t hate his job, he didn’t particularly love it but he took pride in what he did for his court. What he did hate was the bureaucratic end of things, logging his missions in excruciating detail so they can be stored away on the off chance it might need revisited.
He had caught himself nodding off multiple times. The words would blur and his blinks would get slower and slower until his head hit the desk. His shadows, the pestering presence they were, were quick to wake him up.
Finish, finish this,
Keep working,
Sleep after.
At this point it was sheer frustration keeping him awake, weren’t his shadows meant to bend towards his will? The thought of snuffing out the fae light and climbing into bed with his hands over his ears was becoming more and more enticing as the night droned on. Azriels eyes began to close for the umpteenth time and just when he thought his shadows would give up they began swirling around him frantically. He almost groaned at their dramatics until their whispering bordered screaming.
Get up,
Quickly,
Y/n needs you,
Hurry, hurry.
The shadows all spoke over each other and their urgency had Azriel standing up so quick his chair hit the floor. His heart moved as frantically as his shadows at the thought of you. The thought of you hurt, the thought of you in danger, the thought of you scared and alone and needing him.
His feet matched the frenzy as they carried him to the shelf that held the truth teller, his shaking hands sheathed it. Azriel was a composed man, only cracking under severity; and you… you were severe. You had a way of moving him out of his dark safe corner and into the blinding light of day.
Your eyes could move him to tears, your body would make his hands shake, your laugh kicked open every door he used to keep others out. You were a parasite; infecting every part of him and making it your own.
Azriel was ready to punch a hole through his wall and fly around Prythian raining hellfire until he found you and made you safe again. Where? He thought, where is she?
Her house, his shadows answered dutifully before enveloping him and carrying him there. He was ready, ready to fight off whoever-whatever- was hurting you. Whether the demons were mental or corporeal, he would fight to his last breath. You were everything, everything he wanted, needed, everything he prayed for. You just didn’t know it yet, it hadn’t snapped for you. He didn’t care though, he would spend the next 500 years proving his devotion even if you never felt it.
Within seconds his shadows had carried him through space, into your living room. The scent of you was everywhere, gentle overtaking his olfactory sense and filling him with fierce determination.
“Y/n!” The called out as he surveyed the room, everything looked normal, well, for you. Granted things were strewn about, out of order, and placed haphazardly; but not in a way that was alarming.
“Y/n,” he called again and was met with silence, he moved through your house swiftly and silently. He kept his eyes peeled for any sign of you.
Bedroom, his shadows told him. At the end of the hall he pushed open the lightly cracked door and slipped into your room. The room held no sight of you, just thick with your scent. The only noise was light shuffling from your adjourned bathroom. He took a silent step towards the door and in that moment you came out. He froze.
You were fine, you were more than fine. His wide eyes met yours and he tried his best to keep them there but they seemed to have a mind of their own. They trailed to your wet hair that was dripping onto your shoulders. His pesky eyes followed the water from your bare shoulder, to the contour of your breast, to your exposed tummy, around its pretty jewelry, down your hips, before disappearing behind your thighs. Your shocked expression matched his as you stood in only a bra and underwear, clearly fresh out of the shower. He felt the heat climb his face, he wanted to run, hide, avoid any implications. But for some unholy reason he stood, petrified, staring at you half naked-absolutely divine- body.
“What are you doing?” You asked once you finally got over the initial shock of seeing him in your room. Anyone else would’ve gotten a more visceral reaction but this was Az, the only one you wanted to see you like this. You also didn’t mind the way his eyes tracked every curve and dip of your body. You bit your lip to hide your smirk and that snapped his eyes back to your face.
“I… was told there was an emergency…” he shifted on his feet as his eyes darted back and forth from your body to your face.
You bit back your laugh, the feared shadowsinger, spymaster of the night was red faced and nervous. Definitely a sight to behold. “Who told you that?” You crossed your arms under your chest, lightly pushing up the twins. Something he didn’t miss, and you didn’t miss the deeper red his face took. His mouth opened and closed like a fish and he seemed to have lost whatever small grip was keeping his shadows in place. They slithered across the floor before circling up your legs, over your bum, around your hips and waist. You giggled at the sensation, seemingly exciting by the shadows as they made their way up, examining the lace that covered your breast. Their boldness elicited a gasp, one that snapped Azriel out of his trance.
“I am so sorry- I don’t- I should go,” his words were quick as he fumbled over himself. He dragged the shadows away and before you could speak, tell him to stay, he was gone and so were his shadows.
You couldn’t help but laugh, a full belly laugh as you walked towards your bed with a little extra pep. The only proof of the encounter being the goosebumps on your skin and the light smell of his arousal in your room.
Azriel materialized in his room and stood there for- he doesn’t know how long he stood there. Trying to come to terms with what he saw, what you saw he saw, and how horrible his shadows had behaved. “What… was that?” He whispered into the darkness of his room, still frozen in place. He was horrified, completely embarrassed, and confused. His shadows said you needed him, led him there for seemingly no reason. His shadows hadn’t defied him since he was a child, scared of his own power.
The shadows didn’t answer him, just danced around seemingly pleased with themselves. He wanted to go back and apologize but he was too mortified, convinced he wouldn’t be able to face you for a hundred years. He crawled under his covers and cursed his shadows, not even brave enough to deal with the tightness that grew in his pants.
-
It was hot, Velaris was seemingly boiling. That didn’t slow down the Illyrians, rain or shine they would train. Azriel had taken off his shirt and the sweat flowed through the contours of his muscles, covering his body in a sticky dew. He had just finished sparring with Cass and was wiping the sweat from his brow when his shadows spoke.
Emergency,
Something’s wrong at the south pond,
Get there quickly,
“Cass!” He hollered to his brother, as he grabbed a two swords. He threw one to Cass who caught it coolly. “We’re needed,”. Was all he offered before taking to the skies. Cass followed closely behind as they swooped from the house of wind towards the small forest that was on the south side of Velaris. The boys were already warmed up, ready to face whatever emergency faced them. They circled the sky around the pond and didn’t see any immediate threat, it just looked like some fae had met up for a swim.
Cass landed first and Azriel was right behind him. They surveyed the scene and just as they saw in the sky; nothing was wrong. The only thing they saw were females, everywhere.
“Alright brother,” Cass clapped Azriel on the back with a shit-eating grin. “Not what I expected but you’re right, they do need us.” He tossed his sword on the ground and started making his way to the bank, at least three females came to greet him; he engaged happily.
Azriel wasn’t yet convinced. Still dragging his eyes all across the domain, trying to spot what called his shadows here. His keen eyes took in everything, every person, until they landed on you.
Walking out of the water you looked like a fae from those raunchy magazines Cass used to steal as a boy. An all too small bikini clung to your wet body as you made your way out of the water, toward him. Three tiny pink triangles covered the important parts but the rest was just string, leaving nearly your whole body one display. He watched your hips sway, your wet hair clinging to your face and shoulders, the glittering belly ring, and the small smirk on your face as you too looked him up and down.
“You’re not going to use that are you?” You stopped in front of him, referencing to the sword he gripped with all his strength. He watched as you flipped your hair to one side and began ringing it out. The urge to kiss the sensitive spot between your neck was so intense his lips were quivering.
“No I…” he once again was at a loss for words, “I just brought it.” Lame. He was so lame he wanted to die.
You just giggled, the sound like a cool wave over his hot body. You reached over and gently wrapped your hands around his, pulling it from his hands and discarding it with Cassian’s. His eyes were trained on your face the entire time, you weren’t put off by his scars. Your face wasn’t marred with disgust or pity, just blissful normalcy.
You smiled up at him, “Are you going to join us?” He just nodded, not even considering no as an option. Cass already discarded his pants and boots and was loudly entertaining most of the ladies. But Azriels eyes were trained on your back… side, as he followed you to the water like a puppy. It wasn’t until his shoes were sopping wet at the bank that he realized he should probably strip as well.
When he was down to only his boxers and he tossed his pants and boots back to safety. The way you shamelessly admired him gave him his confidence back.
The two of you spent hours, swimming circles around each other, splashing, pushing the other under. He would lift you high out of the water so you could do flips back in. He would put you on his shoulders so you could take turns playing chicken with whatever female climbed onto his brother; he was proud to say you won every time. He followed you all the way to the deep end and despite his distaste for swimming he didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world as you clung to him, telling stories of your childhood in this exact watering hole. He could’ve stayed in the water forever, content to grow wrinkles all over if it meant you would stay close to him.
When the sun had threatened to leave the sky was when you had decided to get out. Your friends were going to a diner to finish of the night with milkshakes and gossip, you offered and invitation and despite being willing to follow you wherever you asked he had to decline. Rhys had tried to contact him multiple times, all of which he ignored. Based on the aggravated tone, Cass was doing the same. He knew staying away any longer would only cause an angry high lord scaling the streets in search of them.
Cass begrudgingly followed his lead, after kissing more than an appropriate amount of females on the cheek, bidding them all goodnight with the promise of seeing them again.
The boys flew home, landing in front of the town house. Before facing the wrath of their in the dark brother Cassian stopped in front of Azriel and grabbed both of his shoulders. With a wide smile he leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek, before he could react Cass had kissed the other one.
“I love you brother,” he said with so much sincerity Az rolled his eyes. “I’ll handle business with you any day,” Cass pulled him into a bone crushing hug that Azriel had to use all of his force to get out of. He wiped the wet spots on his cheeks before shaking his head. He pushed past his babbling brother and made his way to the front door. Cass walked in with an arrogant swagger, one that stayed with him for the next week and a half.
-
The frustration didn’t show on Azriels face, nothing showed on Azriels face, as he trailed diligently behind Mor. Yet another shopping spree he was dragged into with the role of being ‘designated bag carrier.’ He never complained even though he’d rather be doing anything else right now, he didn’t show it. Even though he knew Mor knew that, and even though Mor knew that he knew that she knew that.
“Thank you again Azriel, I swear I’m almost done.” He nodded along, knowing that she was almost done 2 hours ago.
It seemed everyone in the city was out shopping, the streets of the retail sector were jam packed. It was likely that most people were, with a new season approaching all of the soon to be out-of-season styles were on sale. Something that motivated Mor, giving her a much needed excuse for retail therapy.
Azriel kept his wings tucked in tight as he shimmied through bodies crowding the cobble stone. “Okay so we’ll stop at Loraine’s, she has the best Jewelry. Then we’ll have to hit up that new little boutique, hopefully all of the good shoes aren’t gone already. Oh! And we absolutely have to visit Anderson on the end of the block, he’ll kill me if I don’t come check out his sun dresses. He always holds the red ones back for me. Honestly my closet…” Mor continued to ramble on about each and every store that demanded she visit but Azriel tuned it out. Leaving behind the notion of soon as the math of how long he would be out continued to produce a higher and higher number.
Without trying to think about it, he followed Mor into the little jewelry shop that she just spoke about. The shelves were covered in glittering jewels that sat on display behind glass. Nothing caught his interest, he didn’t care for flashy add ons, so he just made his way to one of the plush chairs in the corner. He set the plethora of bags down as he slunk back, enjoying a moment of rest as he knew Mor would be taking her time. His eyes closed but his reaction was short lived when his shadows began of informing him of a situation.
Across the street,
Someone’s not supposed to be here,
Go quickly.
He cracked an eye open and glanced out the window. The streets looked normal enough and he couldn’t hear any commotion over the bustling. Someone’s not supposed to be here? He would have been notified earlier if anyone got through the Velarian wards. He should’ve been notified earlier. He stood up slowly, assessing the street. Just because everything looked normal doesn’t mean it was.
He abandoned Mor’s bags and moved towards the door, when he pushed it open he never stepped out. Instead a shadow slipped across the ground, going unnoticed on the busy street.
He slid under the crack of the door and after clocking his surroundings he determined he was in a woman’s nightwear store. There were night gowns and matching pj’s covering mannequins and racks in the front.
Back,
Behind the curtain.
His shadows informed him of the intruders location and he slid in the corner where the wall met the floor, making his way to the back. The store was relatively empty, only a few patrons; a couple, an older fae, and a young male that looked at the stock like a critic.
Slipping behind the curtain that separated the front from the back he was faced with three small dressing rooms. He materialized and placed his hand on the truth teller that rested on his upper thigh. It was quiet back here, the only shuffling came from one of the dressing rooms. He heard a click and a voice; your voice.
“Mav!” You called out as you stepped out of one of the rooms. He moved, trying to run, trying to get out of there. Realization of the stunt his shadows had once again pulled, dawned on him but it was too late.
“Az?” You questioned. The nickname had him stopping before he could escape sight. His heart beat like a war dum against his chest and he felt his hand dampen on the curtain he was holding. For a moment he contemplated winnowing away, saving the embarrassment for another day.
His turn was slow and painful, when his back was against the curtain he looked down and regretted not running. You were clad in a lace nightgown that barley covered the curve of your bottom. The top was push up, covered in shined lace while the bottom was layers of baby pink sheer material. If he looked closely he could see the diamond jewelry on your belly button and your matching shiney underwear shining through. He attempted to swallow the lump that was sitting in the middle of his throat but it didn’t budge so all he managed was a straggled gasp.
A devilish smirk, the one that tempted his knees, took control of your lips. You leaned against the stall, popping your hip out with a hand resting lazily on top. You tilted your head and looked him up and down, “Don’t tell me there’s another emergency.”
His eyes almost jumped out of his head and pink brushed from his neck, to his ears, and all across his face. You knew, of course you knew, you were the one he was barging in on. He tried to speak but that was impossible, seeing you in something so intimate, something he’d only dreamed of seeing you in, he could only shake his head back and forth.
“Okay so I also found that in this pretty blue-oh!” The young male from earlier had pushed through the curtain and was standing rigid as he looked between you and Az. He was only stuck for a few seconds before a smile that matched yours in mischief graced his face. “What do you think shadowsinger?”
His sultry voice took Azriel back, and the heat in his face doubled, “I- it’s,” he cleared his throat as he looked at the tiny blue dress. Cobalt blue, it was the same hue of his siphons. The thought of seeing you in that…
“It’s beautiful,” you finished for him. You pushed off the stall and moseyed over, closer to Az’s still frozen stature. “I absolutely love this color!” You took the thin fabric in delicate hands, feeling the material. “I’ll put it on,” you took the small thing from your friend before looking Az directly in the eye. You just smiled before walking back into the changing closet.
Azriel let out a low breath before bringing his hands up to drag the course of his face. This had to stop happening.
A snicker came from next to him and he looked over to, Mav, who had his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing glint in his eye. Az briefly wondered if you had told your friend about his little appearing act. The way Mav was looking at him, he’s sure you did. “You gonna stay for the final result?”
Yes, yes, yes! His shadows chanted in his ear and he shook his head roughly to keep them out of his ear.
“No, I gotta- busy!” He practically ripped the curtain with the force he pulled it open. He cleared the store in a few long strides before pushing himself free. In his daze he ended up colliding with a smaller frame.
“Az!” Mor yelled, straightening the dress he rumpled. “What are you-“ he eyes narrowed before glancing behind him, Jaim’s Nightwear was painted in delicate cursive on the windows. “What the hell were you doing?”
Az glanced once back at the shop before at Mor, “Embarrassing myself apparently.”
Mor clocked his flush demeanor before looking back at the window. She squinted her eyes again, tilting her head. She pondered doing some shopping at Jaim’s and Azriel’s speedy ‘no!’ only intrigued her more. She moved to step around him but Azriel’s hands clapped on her shoulder, turning her around and directing her back to the jewelry store across the street.
-
A low hum left the shadowsinger as he climbed up the ramp of the library. He scanned the isles looking for ‘Fiction- Rac.’
He had attended Nesta’s monthly book club with the priestesses, a guilty pleasure only the attendees knew of. He had offered to carry the books back to their rightful spot, an offer he was now regretting. The isle that held the thick fiction books had evaded him, and he had been walking back and forth for a half an hour now. A few priestesses had offered their help but he insisted they return to their work, that he could do it himself.
He decided to try the ‘Rab’ isle, keeping his wings tucked as his presence filled the narrow space. He almost cursed, debating throwing the books on a rack and letting someone else deal with it. His eye had just caught the beginning of ‘Rac’ when his attention was diverted.
You are needed,
Go now,
He ignored the shadows, pushing on towards his destination. He wasn’t about to fall into their trap again, he didn’t think he could handle another awkward encounter.
She needs help,
She needs you.
They insisted but Az just shook his head, looking for the correct author. “I’m not doing this again,” he whispered back. His luck she’d probably be in that little blue get-up and she’d have to clean up the puddle he’d melt into.
Go now!
Or regret it!
She will get hurt!
He groaned as he leaned his forehead against the cool self. The thought of you being hurt, even though he doubted you were, trumped his need to protect his ego. With his shadows whispering in his ear he had to see you were safe, and when you inevitably were he would come back and finish his job.
“Fine, but if she’s in her underwear again-“ the shadows cut him of chanting go, go, go! “Okay,” he was defeated, a slave to the torture his shadows were hell bent on putting him through. “Where is she?”
Home,
Her house.
“Good gods- I’m winnowing outside and if she’s half naked I swear I’m never listening to-“ he was cut off again by his shadows. This time it wasn’t a whisper, the seemed to bellow, angry at his reluctance.
Now!
With the urgency from his shadows he dropped the books on the floor, leaving them for whichever poor priestess found them first. After moving through space in the blink of an eye he landed on your front porch. He lifted his hand to knock, he wasn’t going to barge in and show up in the middle of your room uninvited- again.
Before his fist could connect with the door the sound of you screaming had him stumbling back. “Get out!” Followed by breaking glass. Your voice was shrill and panicked and it lit a protective fire inside of him.
He blinked again and he was inside your living room. Shadows were let loose across the space, crawling from his body to every corner of the room. You were there and so was a clearly unwanted presence. You were pressed against your mantle, gripping a vase like a weapon while the male staggered a few feet in front of you. He didn’t need his shadows to inform him about the alcohol that reeked from the man. His blood boiled and metaphorical claws were bared, he was going to kill the male that intruded on your space.
“Crazy bitch! Where’d you go?” The man slurred out as he waved his hands wildly in front of him; desperate to clear the opaque mist and find his target.
The name you didn’t deserve to be called had snapped Azriel into action, like a tensed spring he shot in front of the man. “I’m right here,” he whispered, mere inches from the drunk. The man made a shocked sound, startled by the new voice and its proximity. The man threw a pathetic punch, a low chuckle left Az’s lips as he caught the fist.
With a skilled spin he was behind the man, pressing his wrist between his shoulder blades in an uncomfortable contortion.
A straggled scream left his throat and Azriel cleared his shadows, wanting a proper look at who he was dealing with. The male was nothing special, skinny and pale with dull brown hair. His blue eyes looked hollow and glassy and the stench of alcohol absolutely assaulted Azriel’s senses at the proximity.
“You’d be wise not to try that again,” Azriel’s dark voice met the shell of the man’s ear. His eyes flickered up to you, wide eyed watching the scene play out. “What are you doing here?”
“Let me go! I just want to talk to her!” Azriel pressed his wrist higher and the male made a noice between a grunt and a scream. “Please!”
Tightening the grip on his wrist Azriel let out a low growl, this male was already too close, Azriel was never going to give him a chance to get closer. “I don’t think she wants to speak to you,” his low voice was eerily calm, steady as he leaned down to speak in the stranger’s ear. “Do you, Y/n?” His eyes moved back to you and watched as you viciously shook your head back and forth. “Well,” the grin in his voice was audible, “that settles that.”
Azriel gave the man a hard shove to which his shadows caught him, they carried him off to somewhere Azriel could deal him later. His eyes scanned the room once more, checking for any lingering danger, any hint of another threat. His shadows scowered the rest of the house, closing and locking any window that could be used as an entry point.
“Az,” you breathed before dropping the vase. The tough glass didn’t shatter, instead it rolled away while you ran. Within seconds your arms were around his neck with your face buried in his chest. He relished in your closeness, arms circling your waist with his nose finding your shoulder. A greedy breath reminded him you were safe, in his arms where no bastard would touch or even talk to you unwarranted. “I’m so glad that worked, I was worried that it wouldn’t, that I pushed to hard with it when you took awhile to get here but-“
“Wait what? What’re you talking about?” He pulled back to look down at you. Confusion had knitted his brows together and pushed his head onto an axis.
“Oh- I well… nothing,” you pulled back and turned away, red dusting your cheeks as your eyes fought to hide from him. Usually he was the flustered one, looking like boy whose hand had been caught in a cookie jar. But the roles were now reversed, you looked like you were dodging trouble of your own creation.
Azriel grabbed your wrist, delicately, turning you around to face him. He caught your chin in his other hand and angled your head to face him, “What did you want to work?”
You turned your eyes down but he just lifted your chin higher, your pink cheeks turned positively rosey and you shook your head. “Fine,” you breathed before pulling away from him completely. He watched as you moved around the glass you had previously thrown and made your way to the couch. “Well,” you started, drawing lines in your the cushion to keep from looking at him, “remember when we met? At that monster exchange?”
He nodded, “Of course.” He would never forget, catching a dove in an underground tavern full of monsters and the beats they aimed to sell. He had been tracking the traveling convention all across the night court, attempting to find who was running the trade. It was a highly illegal exchange and when he’d found you, you had begged to not be arrested, claiming curiosity brought you there. He let you go, told you to run while he dealt with the others.
“Well when I got home I noticed I had a little friend,” she held her hand out and to Azriel’s surprise, a shadow fell into her hand. It had danced out of its hiding spot in your hair and looped around your fingers, stuck to you like it was your own to wield. He just stared, mouth agape, to caught in his own shock to respond. “I started talking to it, they’re great listeners.” A giggle fell from your lips as you wiggled your fingers and the shadow weaved and bobbed through your digits. “And for some reason whenever I spoke of you, of wanting to see you, you would show up.”
You looked up tentatively, worried to see an angry Azriel. Instead you were faced with pure shock, he looked so lost so you felt the need to go on.
“I didn’t know it would tell you to come, not originally. Then after that first night, your shadows told you it was an emergency and I started taking advantage of that. Telling it to fetch you so I could see you again.” You looked back down, clearly ashamed of your admission. You couldn’t see the smirk that was growing on Azriel’s lips. “I know you’re busy, and-and it’s unfair to pull you away from your work like that. I shouldn’t have used your own shadow against you- gods- I’m so sorry. I’ll never-“
Your words were caught off by a laugh, a loud belly laugh. Azriel was practically doubled over. The realization had his face crinkled and his hands gripping his stomach as he gasped for air. You laughed nervously, adding him, “Your not mad?”
He stood up, still laughing but controlling it. His dimples were on full display and you melted a little, feeling ease wash over you.
“No, no I’m not mad,” he moved for the couch, “I’m glad I finally found out why my shadows are so willing to lie to me. It’s because they’re in kahoots with you.” He sat down and took your hand, your full smile matched his, “Never apologize for wanting to see me, I’ll come whenever you call.”
You blushed and nodded, laughing some more yourself. You stuck out the hand that held his shadow, “Here. You can have this back.”
He just shook his head with a smile, pushing your hand back. “Keep it, you can use it to get ahold of me.”
You looked back to him, the look on his face was one of pure ease, happiness and bliss, you loved to see it. You two sat there smiling at each other like idiots when you felt a tug on your heart. The tug got stronger and stronger until it snapped. With a gasp you threw your hand over your heart, as if the bond was tangible, something you could grab with your hands.
“It’s you,” you whisper leaning in slightly.
“And it’s you,” he whispered back after following you in.
You felt a tug on the bond, like he was pulling you towards him, you tugged back with a smile. You had always wanted to find your mate and you wouldn’t admit it just yet but you had wanted it to be Azriel since you met him underground.
You threw your head back, it was your turn to belly laugh. “Good gods! No wonder you always came running!”
He narrowed his eyes and let out a playful growl before pulling you into his arms. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him, looking at him in his eyes. “I’m glad it’s you,” was all you said before offering him a peck on the lips.
He beamed back, “I’m also glad it’s you.” He pulled you down for another kiss which you returned passionately.
“Soo..” you drawled pulling back, “Would you like to see that little blue number?” He responded with a low growl and nip at your ear. You laughed at his answer before jumping off the couch, you grabbed his hand and he happily let you drag him to your room.
A/N: My first request🥰🥰🥰 this was so fun, literally send more I live live live for them. I rlly hope my requester enjoyed this 🥲
Also I’m still working on ‘I’m Not Crazy, She is!’ Pt. 2 but it’s gonna be a long one so give me some time with that🙏🏽
As always if you made it this far I LOVE YOUUU<3<3 thank you so much for reading yall I love doing these.
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prythianpages · 15 days
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In My Eyes | Azriel
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Azriel x Rhysand's Sister | Summary: Azriel has lost you once and when unseen circumstances bring you back to life, he will not lose you again. Even if it means going against his family.
warnings: mentions of death (descriptive and a bit gruesome)/loss, angst 💔
a/n: I wanted to take a little break from all the fluff I've been writing so here's a little angst. I listened to Jacob's prayer from the Minari soundtrack a lot along with Thom Yorke's Hearing Damage while writing this. Hence the title bc I couldn't think of anything else lol and also because I feel like Az would be so down for his mate, she really could do no wrong in his eyes.
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A haunting stillness permeates the air, broken only by the occasional whisper of Azriel’s shadows. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He wants to turn and leave but his legs betray his mind, prompting him to go forward. Cracked cobblestone paths lead him to the castle’s doors and as Azriel pushes the door open, it releases a loud groaning noise.
Inside Hybern’s castle, broken furniture lies scattered and the once opulent halls now echo with the sound of dripping water. His shadows stir uneasily. A sudden gust of wind brushes past him, carrying a pleading whisper along with it.
“Help me.”
Goosebumps rise on Azriel's skin as his shadows freeze in place. There was something familiar about that haunting plea that sent shivers down his spine.
“Azriel.”
"y/n," he breathes, the mere utterance causing his shadows to stir into a desperate frenzy. His steps quicken, evolving into a full-blown run, his heart pounding in sync with the frantic pace of his movements.
"y/n!" he calls out again, this time louder. His eyes, stinging with tears, frantically scanning the endless expanse of the haunted halls for any trace of you.
"Azriel, help me!"
Azriel runs and runs, but the hall stretches infinitely before him.
“Help! I’m al–”
And then, with a jolt, Azriel wakes. 
Cold sweat clings to him like a second skin as the tendrils of the dream slowly release their grip on his consciousness. Your voice–it felt so real. But he knows it’s a dream because when he turns his head, the spot beside him is empty. 
As it has been for centuries. 
Azriel allows his heavy eyelids to flutter shut once more as he catches his breath. This was just another nightmare, he tells himself. It does nothing to soothe him. The more he thinks about it, the more unease grips him. Even his shadows are shaky, trembling as they brush against him. 
For centuries, his dreams have been plagued by nightmares. It had always been the same one. The one that made him relive the moment he found out you were dead. Azriel had been the one to find the box that carried your mother’s severed head down Windhaven’s river and when he had spotted another box, all he found was a severed finger. A severed finger wearing a ring he was all too familiar with because he had been the one to place it on your finger.
Azriel remembers the way his heart had dropped to his stomach. He remembers the way he had desperately tugged on the bond only to find nothing but an eerie quietness on your end. He knew at that moment you were gone and you weren’t coming back.
The scream that tore through his throat was as violent as the gaping black hole crushing through his chest. It curdled the blood of anyone within earshot and had the surrounding birds jolting from their perches, their feathers rustling in a panicked flutter. Not even his shadows, who had carried him through his darkest times, could console him.
Azriel had no body to mourn. No hand to hold on to. No face to caress for the last time. He could only hope that your death had been quick and painless.
But this nightmare was new. Different. You were alive in this one. Or sounded like it.
Azriel opens his eyes and he brings himself to sit up in bed. His hands, weary and scarred, rub at his face in exhaustion, brushing away the lingering tears that sting at his eyes. He then looks down at his hands, aching to feel your warmth once more. Even if only in a dream.
The glimmering ring on Azriel's left hand sparkles under the tender caress of moonlight, drawing his attention. His trembling fingers delicately trace the contours of the band. He can’t help but turn and twist it, yearning for a complete view of the engraved letters. It spells out your name and the ache of grief intensifies with every twist. He hasn’t taken the ring off since the day he married you, even after death did you part.
It compliments the smaller, daintier ring wrapped around his neck that hangs on a thin silver chain. Your ring. His name is engraved on it just as yours is on his. The only difference is that yours cradles a captivating cobalt blue gem.  A precious fragment, crafted from his own siphon and meticulously refined by himself. He wanted you to carry a part of him wherever you went.
Now, he is left to carry it. The only piece he has left of you. A poignant reminder that though death may have claimed you, the essence of your union lingers on. He can’t imagine loving anyone else. He doesn’t want to love anyone else. For him, it was you and only you. He could only thank the Mother for allowing him the time he had with you but also curse her for taking you from him.
His hand closes around your ring, grappling with the disorienting emotions coursing through him. Despite the centuries that have separated you, an instinctual yearning tugs at Azriel's core. He reaches out for the intangible thread that once connected you. He knows he’ll only receive the familiar void. It had been this way for ages. He’d wake from his nightmare, reach out with false hope and receive nothing in return.
Yet, this time, just like the nightmare he woke from, is different.
The shadows that hover over Azriel's shoulders, murmuring their soothing lullabies, suddenly cease in their dance. His eyes widen, capturing a glimmer of something long forgotten. Hope. It stirs within him, a dormant ember flickering to life after centuries of darkness.
For a fleeting moment, a heartbeat in the vastness of time, there's a response. A fragile shimmer through the bond. So delicate that it's almost imperceptible. And it’s coming from your side. 
Azriel tugs again, cautiously and slowly. Anxiously and holding his breath. Even his shadows don’t dare to stir. But as he awaits another sign, silence envelops him. There’s no response.
He tugs again, desperately seeking confirmation. And then again and again. His tugs grow harsher, more desperate, each pull an urgent plea for any sign, any trace of you. Yet, the bond remains eerily silent, as if mocking the fragile tendrils of hope that dared to rekindle within him. 
Maybe it was all a figment of his imagination. 
But he swore he heard your voice, swore that tug, as faint as it was, was there. The crushing weight of loss descends once more, and it's as if he's losing you all over again. The echoes of hope vanish, leaving only a hollowing ache. His shadows begin to stir again, anxious to fill that hollowness in fear of the malevolent darkness that threatens to creep back inside and consume him all over again.
“No, no, no,” Azriel cries, his voice breaking into a mere whisper. With tear-streaked eyes, he looks up towards the moon, its ethereal glow filtering through the window on the ceiling.
“Please,” he says, beseeching the celestial body to heed his prayer. 
Yet, the void persists and an overwhelming surge of fear takes hold, tightening its icy grip around him. Because though he thinks of you all the time, he’s beginning to forget the small details. Such as the exact shade of your eye, the radiant sparkle in your eyes as you’d smile at him, the comforting warmth radiating from your laugh, the precise hue of blush that would grace your cheeks every time he told you he loved you.
He doesn’t want to forget. As painful as the memories are now, he wants to anchor himself into every single one of them. To hold onto the exquisite weight of every detail.
"Please," Azriel pleads once more. His body quivers with each sob, hunched over in bed, fingers tightly gripping his chest as if trying to anchor his unraveling soul. The shadows, usually under his control, writhe in a frenzied storm, mirroring the emotions swirling inside him. Some tendrils slither out from beneath the door, seeking out help.
It doesn’t take long for them to reach someone. Rhysand swiftly materializes in the room. "Azriel!" he calls out, a voice cutting through the tumult of emotions that cling to the air like heavy mist. “What’s wrong?”
"I heard her, Rhys," Azriel confesses through tearful sobs, his pain echoing in the shadows. "I felt her."
“What if she’s alive? I–I need to find her.”
Rhysand's heart plummets, a solemn gravity darkening his features. “She’s dead, Az,” he murmurs softly, tone laced with empathy. While Azriel lost his mate, Rhysand had lost his sister. He, too, mourns for you.
Azriel shakes his head in denial. “She needs me.”
Rhysand takes a deep breath, blinking back his own tears. He then turns toward the doorway, meeting Feyre’s wide eyes. She had rushed to the room along with him. "Please, get Cas," he tells her.
**
As Azriel secures his siphons, he stares down at his left wrist, where a lunar emblem is etched onto his tan skin. It had disappeared when you had died but now, it is vivid against his skin once more. He doesn’t know exactly when it had reappeared. He was binding his hands before a training session, many months ago, when he noticed it. The reappearance of your mating tattoo carries with it the weight of the vows you had spoken to him.
“As long as I’m alive, I will love you with every breath.”
But you weren’t alive. You were still dead. After that night almost a year ago, Azriel had looked for you. Every night and day. For months.  He was driving himself into pure madness, even his shadows had grown restless. There had been no more signs, no more traces of you but he still pushed on and he would’ve continued if Rhysand hadn’t forced him to stop.
“Are you ready?”
Azriel nods at Rhysand, securing the last of his weapon to his leathers. He then spares a glance toward Cassian, who is doing the same. It had been a long week of planning for this very moment.
Koschei initiated contact through a cryptic note delivered to Rhysand. The message proposed a meeting at the lake. A “peace” conference, he had called it. One that exclusively also required the presence of Cassian and Azriel. The terms were strange, but with dwindling options and time slipping away, Rhysand reluctantly consented.
"I'll be back before you know it," Rhysand reassures Feyre, bending down to plant a tender kiss on her temple. His gaze lingers on their infant son cradled in Feyre's arms, his smile warm as he places a gentle kiss on Nyx's head. "Save me a slice of Elain's cake for later.”
"Alright," Feyre exhales, her eyes still etched with worry. Her attention shifts towards the inked markings on her left arm and a fleeting shadow brushes softly against the tattoo. Lifted by the subtle touch, her gaze meets Azriel's and then Cassian's. In that silent exchange, they convey an unspoken commitment to protect their family at any cost. Feyre can only manage a small smile before the three males winnow away.
**
As soon as they arrive at the lake, Azriel feels a stirring in his chest. His attention is immediately drawn to a lone white swan. The swan gracefully glides across the murky water. A looming darkness rises from the lake, blocking his view of the swan and causing his shadows to jerk back. 
"Welcome," Koschei's voice whispers through the wind.
Rhysand moves forward, standing in front of Cassian and Azriel, despite the anxiety coursing through him. “Let’s cut to the chase. What do you want?”
The looming darkness swells, and a malevolent chuckle reverberates from its core. Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves behind his wings and his entire body stiffens. He can sense Cassian do the same beside him.  "You know precisely what I desire."
"And you know why we won't grant it," Rhysand retorts. There’s an icy rage swirling in his violet eyes that overcomes his sense of fear. He can only imagine what a world ruled by Koschei would be like and he refuses to allow the death god the power to harm his family.
"I anticipated your reluctance, Rhysand. That's why I've prepared a gift. Aid in my liberation from this lake, and it's yours."
Rhysand scoffs, unwavering. "No gift will entice me to free you."
"Are you certain about that?"
The wind intensifies, rustling leaves and brushing against the Illyrians, raising goosebumps in its wake. Birds, concealed in the trees, erupt in panicked flight. Rhysand, undeterred, digs his hands into his pockets, his eyes narrowing in question at the death god.
Koschei's laughter echoes again. "Perhaps I should show you first. It’s only fair, wouldn't you agree?"
The wind abruptly ceases, plunging the world into an eerie hush. The shadow that looms over the lake drifts to the side, allowing the swan from earlier to glide forward. Suddenly, a dark mist envelops the bird, its form blurring and shifting until the swan's elegant feathers dissolve into a cascade of shimmering silver. From the mist, a cloaked figure emerges, her midnight-blue robes trailing behind her like the ripples of the lake. 
With each graceful step, the water seems to part beneath her feet, revealing the silhouette of a woman long thought lost to the depths. You.
“y/n!”
Azriel instinctively moves forward, hand reaching out towards you. Cassian, however, restrains him, a powerful grip on his brother’s arm preventing any impulsive advance.
Rhysand's eyes widen as you approach, a slow and haunting revelation unfolding in the dim light. It is you, standing right in front of them. In your blood and flesh. But your eyes–your eyes, once bright with life, now mirror the opaque shroud of mist hovering around you.
“This can’t be,” Rhysand breathes, his voice barely a whisper, disbelief coloring his tone. “How?
“King Hybern resurrected your sister from the magic of the Cauldron the same way he did with Jurian. You see, Tamlin was desperate to get Feyre back at that time. He let his guard down, allowing Ianthe to not only disclose the location of the Archeron sisters but also the location of your dear sister’s remains. Tamlin buried her body somewhere in his lands but his father had kept her wings. As a trophy. Did you know her death was slow and cruel?”
A shudder courses through Rhysand. Cassian’s fist clench at his sides and he spares a glance toward Azriel, whose body is shaking. None of them knew the details of your murder. An apprehensive feeling churned in their stomachs and Rhysand felt the bile rise in his throat.
“The sons of Spring did not show her the same mercy they did your mother. They drugged her with faebane, rendering her powerless so that she could not fight back. They sloughed her finger off to gift to you. Then, they took her wings. Let her bleed to death."
Suddenly, Azriel’s chest tightens. He can’t breathe. A pained expression crosses his face and his knees go weak. Images of you being tortured to death flood his mind and all he can think about is how he failed you. Cassian’s grip on him tightens even more, keeping him steady. 
“King Hybern was so sure he’d win the war that he kept your sister hidden. He knew the Shadowsinger was her mate so he drugged her with faebane the same way the sons of Spring did. He didn’t want any of you finding out she was alive.”
“Hybern didn’t want to ruin the surprise. After his victory, he had planned to take you all back to the castle to torment you with her live state. Only to have you die at her hands. Of course, as you can see, that didn’t work out. Briallyn knew of her resurrection and brought her to me.”
Azriel can’t take his eyes off of you. His shadows dart toward you, slithering up your legs and caressing every inch of you. They linger on your wings. You don’t move. You don’t even blink.
But you’re alive. 
All this time you had been alive. That nightmare he had, it was real. You were calling out to him, asking for help. Tears sting at his eyes. That tug he had felt from your shared bond. It was also real. And the tattoo that had reappeared on his skin was not a cruel trick from the Cauldron. But a sign.
“I’ve become very familiar with your sister. She’s very powerful but I’m sure you knew that.”
Rhysand’s gaze flickers to where you stand, heart aching. It’s you but not you. Unlike Azriel, he can’t help but think what if this is all a trick? An illusion to get him to side with Koschei? Cassian meets his worried gaze. They both glance toward Azriel and then exchange a look.
“Let her go.” Cassian finally speaks, hazel eyes glaring at the darkness before them. “And take me instead.”
“Lord of Bloodshed,” Koschei addresses Cassian in an amused manner. “What a most gracious offer. Unfortunately, for you, I have no desire to replace y/n. You, however, are welcome to join me of your own free will.”
“While I am confined to this lake, y/n is going to do everything I physically cannot. She’ll be my proxy, my spymaster. Isn’t that right?”
"Yes, master.”
The words slip from your lips like ice, each syllable devoid of the warmth and affection that once filled them. Azriel's heart lurches in his chest, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach as he hears the lifeless tone of your voice. 
"No," Azriel growls, the sound reverberating through the air with a primal intensity. His voice, usually steady and composed, now carries an edge of desperation and fury. “You have no right to her. She’s mine.”
Rhysand keeps his hands in his pockets, hiding the fact that they’re slightly trembling. He eyes you once more, pure agony seeping into his very core. He mentally takes a deep breath and looks back toward the looming shadow over the lake, mustering all his strength to feign indifference. 
“I don’t understand how this is a gift.”
“Here’s the deal, Rhysand. You help free me from this lake and I free y/n from my control. It’s as simple as that. Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you a week to think about it.”
All seven of Azriel’s siphons ignite in a cobalt blaze of raw power. He will not let Koschei control you. You’ve already suffered enough. Cassian struggles to maintain his hold, his grip faltering against the force of Azriel's will. 
“Azriel, no!”
The sound that erupts from Azriel was more animal than human—a deep, throaty growl that spoke of primal fury. He breaks free from Cassian, stumbling forward. He regains his footing with ease, rushing toward the lake. Toward the looming figure. Toward you. He’s so close, the water lapping at his boots when your clouded eyes finally meet his.
Burning pain courses through Azriel’s veins, bringing him to his knees and suddenly, he feels like he’s on fire. Your power takes hold over him, penetrating to the core of his being, carving through the marrow of each bone. He knows the fire is not real. It’s only an illusion but it feels as if every single cell in his body is being tormented with the worst agony imaginable. He can barely hear himself scream over the roaring pain in his ears.
Two strong hands clamp onto Azriel’s shoulders and he writhes against it, fighting it. “No,” his voice is a mere hoarse whisper as Rhysand uses his own power to pull him out of your illusion.
As Rhysand’s tendrils of darkness engulf Azriel, the last thing he sees are your eyes. They’re still clouded over, devoid of their usual luster. Yet, against the backdrop of emptiness, tears escape from them.
**
Azriel wakes to a dull ache in his head. He feels the gentle caress of his shadows against his face, tenderly attempting to alleviate the headache that grips him. With a slow blink, he reluctantly greets the soft illumination of his room at the riverhouse. Memories of what happened earlier flood back with startling clarity and his wings quiver involuntarily. A physical manifestation of the anguish that had ravaged his spirit. He doesn’t care that it was you who inflicted that pain upon him.
It pales in comparison to the pain you must be feeling inside. A mere glimpse of the raw emotions raging within you was enough to pierce Azriel's heart. Like a tempestuous storm, the waves of pain surged through your bond. But then, abruptly, he was shut out.
The image of your tear stained cheeks as you brought him to his knees plagues him with uneasiness. It’s this restless unease that stirs him, prompting him to rise from the bed. He looks toward his door, his shadows curling against his ears. Heavy with determination, he makes his way towards Rhysand’s office.
When Azriel's shadows forcefully swing the doors open, the entire inner circle stands before him. Their expressions betray the weight of their recent discussions. The room falls into a silence, thickened with tension. They had been discussing you. Without him. His hands clench into tight fists, his simmering anger threatening to spill over.
“Azriel,” Feyre greets him with a tense smile. “How are you feeling?”
Azriel’s eyes lock onto Rhysand. Anguish and resentment churn within him and Rhysand's posture stiffens in response
“We have to approach this situation with caution,” Rhysand says, surprised by the steadiness in his own voice despite the weight of their predicament.
“Caution?” Azriel nearly growls, prompting Cassian to inch toward him. “She is my wife! My mate! And you expect me to just sit here and wait for your approval to save her?”
Rhysand frowns, his violet eyes flaring. “You think I don’t hurt too?” He exclaims, his voice breaking as he utters his next words. “She is my sister!”
A hand rests on Azriel’s shoulder. Cassian’s. “I want to save her too. Trust me, I do. But we can’t just jump into–”
Azriel shakes Cassian’s hand off, his shadows hissing toward the taller male. “What if it were Nesta?”
Cassian frowns and he spares a glance toward his mate, who is watching the scene unfold with a somber look on her face. Azriel releases a frustrated huff before redirecting his gaze towards Rhysand, a pointed finger aimed accusingly at his friend and High Lord. 
"If it were Feyre," he insists, his voice tinged with both desperation and conviction, "you would see no reason."
Rhysand's silence speaks volumes.
"I failed her once," Azriel continues, firm and resolute. "I will not fail her again."
But Rhysand's response is unwavering. "I can't let you go. You have to understand.”
Azriel's jaw tightens. "You can't stop me," he counters in defiance, wings flaring out behind him.
"As your High Lord, I–”
"I'm done," Azriel cuts off sharply before Rhysand can go any further. He’s well aware of the weight of his words but he doesn’t allow them to bring him down. You are his mate, the tether to his soul, and he will put you above all else. Even his family. 
 "I resign as Spymaster of the Night Court.”
Feyre's eyes glisten with tears as she approaches Azriel, brushing off Rhysand's attempt to hold her back. "Azriel, please," she implores, her voice trembling with emotion. She knows what Azriel must be feeling. She knows because she lived it herself when Rhysand died after the war. But she also knows–or at least, hopes–that there’s another way to bring you back home. She’s already making plans in her mind to reach out to Helion.
"Don't go. We'll find a way to bring her back, I swear it. Just give us time."
Azriel shakes his head, the thought of waiting to rescue you souring in his mouth. He can't bear the thought of you in pain, needing him, while he stands idle. The urgency to act gnaws at his soul, a primal instinct driving him to protect you at any cost.
“You’ll abandon your family then?” Amren asks. Despite her efforts to maintain her usual façade of indifference, a faint glimmer in her eyes betrays the struggle.
“I will not abandon my mate.” Azriel says, taking a step back. “She’s my family too.”
"Don't do this," Rhysand pleads as he takes a tentative step forward, his hand outstretched toward his brother.
Azriel takes another step back, his hazel eyes darting across the room, absorbing the silent pleas etched on the faces of the inner circle. He loves them but he loves you more. 
When his gaze locks with Rhysand's again, Rhysand's heart sinks. He realizes that Azriel's mind is already set. His brows knit together in a pained expression. He doesn’t want it to end like this.
"I will not hold this against you," Rhysand manages, his voice strained.
How can he hold this against Azriel? When he would do the same for Feyre. When you, his sister, have been brought back to life only to be imprisoned by Koschei. A gasp fills the room as he drops to his knees. 
"But please... just...please..."
The words catch in his throat, choked by the overwhelming grief and helplessness that engulf him. His shoulders slump in defeat as tears blur his vision. Feyre instinctively wraps her arms around him, pulling him close. A brief sanctuary in the midst of his shattering world.
He knows he cannot make Azriel promise anything and Azriel knows this too. Despite the grim circumstances, there is a flicker of solace in Rhysand knowing that whatever terrors may come, you won't face them alone.
“I’m sorry,” is all Azriel says before winnowing away.
**
Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves back behind his wings when he arrives at the familiar lake. His gaze immediately seeks out the water's edge, where wisps of mist still linger. There's no sign of the white swan he had seen earlier.
"I knew you would come around, Shadowsinger," Koschei's voice taunts from the shadows.
"Where is she?" Azriel demands.
Koschei's laughter carries on the wind, but he concedes. You emerge from the surrounding trees, your eyes widening in shock as you lock gazes with Azriel. This time, your eyes are clear, unclouded, and Azriel's heart twists with recognition as he memorizes the exact shade of your eyes all over again.
"You can't be here," you protest, and Azriel's shadows peek out from behind his wings, reacting to the sound of your voice. It's you. It’s really you.
Your eyebrows furrow, mirroring the same pained expression Rhysand had worn just moments ago. You recognize the gleam in his eyes. "No," you plead, your voice barely a whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. "You can't do this. You have to go back. Go back right now!"
Tearing his gaze off of you, Azriel looks toward the ominous silhouette of Koschei. He can feel the air thicken with anticipation, awaiting his next words. He continues to ignore your protests, even as you frantically rush toward his side. 
 “As long as you have control over her, you have control over me.” Azriel says and then drops to  his knees in submission. 
"My, my, my. What a lovely surprise," Koschei remarks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Get up!" You cry out, your hands clutching at Azriel's arms in a desperate attempt to pull him away from the lake. Away from Koschei's grasp. "Azriel, get up!"
Azriel’s knees remain rooted to the spot but his body leans into your embrace. His eyes flutter shut as he allows himself a fleeting moment to revel in the warmth of your presence—the warmth he had yearned for over centuries. The warmth he thought he would never feel again.
His eyes open and though Koschei is a mere shadow a couple of feet away, he can feel his gaze burning into his soul.
“I’ll serve you too,” Azriel finally says, sealing his fate alongside yours in the grasp of the death god.
**
"What have you done?" Your voice trembles with disbelief, your eyes still wide with shock as you stare up at Azriel, your hands reaching out to grasp his face. After Azriel swore his loyalty to Koschei, the death god had granted you both permission to be alone. He sent you to his sister’s old cottage, where you’d be staying for now.
Azriel's heart swells at the touch of your warm, soft hands against his skin. He wipes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks, his own emotions overwhelming him. "You're alive," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as he rests his hands on your face.
His fingers trace the familiar contours of your features. Every line, every curve is evidence to the reality of your presence. A presence he had long thought lost to him for eternity. The Cauldron had gifted him once more. Here you are, tangible and real. Alive. He can barely believe his eyes.
As Azriel's fingers delicately brush against your face, his shadows dance eagerly in his wake, reaching out to join in the tender caress. They yearn for the sensation of your skin, their touch as gentle as a whisper, expressing their overwhelming joy in silent echoes. "I love you. I love you. I love you," they chant in a chorus of happiness and the bond in your chest sings back in a language only you three understand.
Despite the tears streaming down his face, there’s such a deep and profound warmth in Azriel’s eyes. As he looks at you, it’s like sunlight breaking through dark stormy clouds. You want to bask in its golden glow but as a thought crosses your mind, you abruptly shrink back from him and your lip quivers.
“I hurt you. I-I didn’t want to but I couldn’t stop it. I hurt you. I made you scr–”
Azriel smiles at you, bringing you back into his protective embrace. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” you breathe, eyes searching for any trace of pain or repulse. You find none and though unleashing your power on your mate was against your will, your guilt threatens to consume you. “I’m so sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry you’re here.”
"Don't be," he murmurs softly, cradling your head against his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, a gentle reassurance of his unwavering presence. He had lost you once. He’s not going to lose you again. 
With a heartfelt sigh, he pulls you even closer. “I’m right where I want to be.”
Slowly but surely, the cascade of tears dwindled, leaving a trace of dampness on your cheeks and Azriel’s leathers. In your mate’s arms, you finally have the courage to voice your deepest fear.
"I'm scared, Az. What if I hurt you again? Hurt someone else? What if I do something worse?”
The vulnerability in your voice tugs at his heartstrings, igniting a fierce determination to shield you from any harm. He’d do anything for you.
“You can do no wrong in my eyes.” Azriel responds, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. He then inhales deeply, flooding his senses with your scent. “You don’t know how much I missed you.”
Azriel then pulls away, just enough to look at you again. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you but I’m here now. I won’t fail you this time.”
Your gaze softens. You send a wave of pure love through the bond and Azriel feels his heart flutter at the sensation he’s been deprived of for so long.
“You never failed me, Az.”
Azriel's face breaks into a radiant smile and you smile back at him. It lights up the darkness that had weighed heavily on his heart for centuries. "I love you," his voice is barely above a breath, reveling in the blush that takes over your cheeks in response.
He reaches for the chain around his neck, fingers trembling slightly as he clasps your left hand. His gaze lingers on the lunar tattoo on your arm that matches his for a moment before sliding your wedding ring back onto your finger.
Holding your gaze, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "My mate," he murmurs against your skin. He then kisses the ring on your finger, the cobalt gem glowing in response. “My wife.”
"I love you," you say back, your arms winding around his neck as your fingers caress the soft strands of his hair. He yields to you, allowing himself to be drawn closer.  You kiss the corner of his mouth. "My mate."
Then, finally, you press your lips against his. "My husband," you declare softly, sealing your bond with a kiss that echoes the depths of your devotion and commitment to each other. 
And for the first time in centuries, Azriel sleeps soundly with you in his arms. Free from the torment of nightmares that had haunted him for so long.
Only to wake up and realize it’s because he’s now living in one.
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a/n: Hope you enjoyed! When writing this, I didn't intend for there to be more parts so for now, it's a one-shot. I left the ending open-ended to allow you to interpret it how you want and also, leave room for a sequel in case I ever do want to go back to this. That being said, while I don't have ideas for a sequel in mind as of right now, I did come up with a backstory for Az & reader in this little au so I might write a prequel on how their relationship came to be.
I also have another Az x Rhys's sister series. It is written in third person and it's more of an Az x OC series. You can find it here, if interested. But I do intend to make this au different than that one.
tagging: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444
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Rainy Season
Azriel x Reader
An angsty little one shot. Azriel’s mate is tired of being at the bottom of his list of priorities.
Update: Due to popular demand, this is being made into a series!
Part 2
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The air’s getting heavy and we both know why
There was a time when an evening like this brought solace to my weary soul.
Azriel’s hand wrapped around my waist, caressing my stomach, pressing soft kisses to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. His hair tickling against my sensitive skin as we hid under blankets absorbing the incessant melody of drip, drop, drip, drop and the echoing pitter patter of rain drops hitting the roof. His warmth seeping right through to the coldest depths of my soul.
I’d turn around, pressing my bare breasts against his muscled chest. Our breath hitching as his sunburst eyes of brown, amber, and gold bore into mine, his soft lips whispering promises of forever.
Say that this storm is just passing through
But Azriel wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for 6 days, 23 hours, and 50 minutes now. It would have been laughable, comparing the past to now, if it weren’t so damned sad. In the beginning there’d been long, doting love notes with risqué quips regarding his intentions upon coming home, little gifts that he couldn’t resist bringing back from his travels, and the stolen hours where he’d sneak in a visit during the intermittent downtime on his missions. As a realist, I knew that it was not sustainable long-term but relished in it as the gift it was. Newly formed, passionate love that exceeded anything I had ever imagined upon finding my cauldron-blessed mate.
As the years went on I understood when the love notes became briefs and the thoughtful gifts became pecks on the cheek as he hurried through the door to exchange his leathers for clean ones, wipe down his weapons, and rest before his next mission. But time went on, as is inevitable, and distant were the memories of stolen moments away from missions, the desperate caress of his hands roaming my body as if he couldn’t quite believe I was fully corporeal before him - needing to touch me to reassure him that this was real. Now the touches were detached, perfunctory, another task on his never-ending to-do list.
Drop after drop we’re destroying this house and eachother.
The boiling point had been simmering for a while, left on the fire with reassurances of “Things are just busy right now”, “It’ll slow down soon”, “I would stay if I could, love. You know I would. I have no choice.”
But we both knew all too well that there was always a choice. There were times when Rhys let it slip that Azriel had volunteered for missions that his other spies were perfectly suited for, times when all I wanted in the world was to be curled up and listening to the rain with my mate.
Missions became tasks with the Valkyries, “chaperoning” Cassian and Nesta, and emotionally supporting the lovely doe-eyed fawn - Elain - who was the delicate cherry blossom of spring opposite of my wild summertime storm.
It wasn’t her fault. The trauma inflicted upon her, the loss of autonomy that came with being thrown into the cauldron and having her mortality stripped away without her say. The powers she never asked for overwhelming her senses. Hell, maybe it wasn’t Azriel’s fault for responding to the traumas of his past and the need to overcompensate for every ounce of blood he’s drawn by saving anything and everything that needed rescuing.
The problem lay with the fact that where Elain is a “seer”, my ability to “sense” when things are amiss was strong and Azriel’s intentions with her were becoming blurred. Feelings of lust had become more frequent down the bond along with flutters of joy and adoration. When it began I thought maybe things would look up in our relationship - he was missing me, fisting his cock to fantasies of taking me over and over when he returned home - but he only became more distant. He’d return more often than not smelling of jasmine and honey. The strength of the scent coating him correlating with the increase in enamored feelings slipping through the bond.
Six days ago when I’d asked him to skip out on training with Cassian and Nesta and whatever it was he and Elain would do - that was when the thunder clapped and the sky opened. “I can’t just stay home and cater to you all the time. I have duties to this court. Why can’t you find a hobby to occupy your time? Nesta reads and trains with the Valkyries, Feyre paints, Elain gardens and she evens bakes! Why can’t you be more like-“
He caught himself too late, immediately reaching out to place a gentle hand on my shoulder and apologize but it was too late for that.
Please, make it stop
It wasn’t that I wasn’t a forgiving or understanding person. i appreciated his dedication to his court and family and those in need but…
“Why can’t I be more like what? You can stop mid-sentence but you already said it all.” I looked down, shaking my head as silver lined my eyes. Gods, I hate that I’m an angry crier. “You want to know why I can’t be more like Elain in your eyes, Azriel? Because I exist in your fucking blind spot! I have been helping Feyre AT the studio, volunteering at a food pantry in Velaris, and teaching self-defense classes to women and children at the park but you wouldn’t know because you never ask me what I’ve been up to while you’re gone.”
He started to speak but I wasn’t finished. “The reason I cannot be more like Elain, or Feyre, or Nesta is because I’m none of them. I am ME. And you know what? I like me. I don’t want to be anybody else.” Trying and failing miserably to hold my head high I pathetically fell to my knees, shuddering as tears of rage flowed freely.
Warmth enveloped me as Azriel knelt down to soothe my quaking form. I let him if only because I didn’t have the composure to tell him otherwise as he began pressing kisses to my forehead. “I’m so sorry. I have been a terrible mate. I love all that you are- I- I’ll stop with Elain. She’s doing much better and Nuala and Cerridwen can keep an eye on her, so can Rhys and Cassian, and her sisters. It will be okay.”
That consolation attempt only drove the blade of bitterness deeper into my heart. Elain had so many in her corner and who did I have anymore? My chronically absent mate? The family I left behind to move to Velaris with Azriel? There was nobody close by.
“I think you should leave.” I sobbed out.
Azriel ignored the shaky command, continuing to hold me. Fuck - is this what it took for him to notice me? Breaking my heart so he could stitch it back up again?
“Azriel.” I stated firmly.
He met my eyes.
“You should leave.”
His look grew puzzled. “I thought you wanted me to stay - to spend time together? Please, Y/N. Let me make this better.”
“I need space. Give me one week.”
“But-“
“One. Week.”
Azriel’s shoulders slumped, head hanging low for several minutes before realizing that my decision was firm.
“I love you.” He said before heading out the door.
——————
Like clockwork as 7 days, 0 hours, and 1 minute were up, the front door to our home opened and Azriel’s footsteps padded in behind me, my gaze remaining fixated on the rain falling outside the window. A lump formed in my throat as I avoided turning to meet his gaze.
So dance one more dance and tell one more lie.
Azriel stepped around me, wordlessly extending a hand, patiently waiting as I avoided his gaze a moment longer before taking it. His shadows began humming faintly, increasing their melody and reaching a crescendo as Azriel began dancing with me through the room.
Say that you love me even if it’s not true
I let myself melt into the warmth of his chest. The thick air remained heavy upon my soul but I could have this. I could let myself enjoy this moment.
We wordlessly danced through the room in the soft glow of the fae lights.
We made our way through the hall into our shared bed that had become so neglected.
“I love you, Y/N.” he murmured as he laid me down, stripped bare underneath him.
“I love you too, Azriel.”
——————
Wish I could just say it and words were enough to keep you from being the one giving up.
The middle of the night left me restless as he lay soundly asleep beside me. My senses tugged me toward his bag that he’d discarded at the entryway. I brought out his dirty clothes from the week only to be greeted with the fresh scent of jasmine and honey.
Like the sky letting go for no reason
I packed my essentials and voyaged out into the pouring rain. Its patter on my skin washing away the salty tears streaming down my face. Following my senses to where the love was true back to my Summer Court home, my family. As free as a summer storm.
It's just the rainy season.
—————————————
A/n - I know there are plenty of Azriel x Reader and Elain fics out there. It was rainy and dreary here yesterday and this song was in my head for the first time in like 10 years so…. I wrote this.
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imaginesmai · 1 month
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Missed target - Azriel
Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.
Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.
The Suriel 1
The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.
Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.
“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”
The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.
Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.
As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.
Missed date
Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.
Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.
Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.
Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.
But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.
“Are you ready to order?”
He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.
“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”
“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”
“Water is fine”
They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.
Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.
It was a nice plant.
“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”
“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.
“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “
Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.
The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.
Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.
Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.
Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.
Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.
His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.
Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.
You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.
“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”
“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.
“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”
Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.
But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.
“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”
“I’m Azriel”
“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”
“No”
He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.
You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.
When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.
As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.
The market
Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.
There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.
She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.
It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.
But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.
It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.
The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.
When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.
Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.
“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”
“Are you planning to eat it with me?”
Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.
He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.
Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.
“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”
The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.
But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.
He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.
The flowers
Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.
He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.
He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.
The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.
It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.
She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.
Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.
In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.
Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.
Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.
Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.
Try to smile without looking creepy.
Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.
He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.
In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?
Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.
Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.
All because of the stupid melody.
His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.
He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.
“Hello?”
Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.
You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.
He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.
Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.
He had signed it.
Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel
His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.
The dance
“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.
“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”
Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.
His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.
“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”
“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.
“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”
“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”
“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”
Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.
Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.
He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.
Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.
Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.
Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.
“Is it because Elain?”
The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.
“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”
“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”
“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.
Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.
He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.
For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.
He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.
When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.
Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.
“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.
“Who’s not coming?”
“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”
Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.
Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.
Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.
“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”
“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.
“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”
Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.
Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.
He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.
Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.
Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.
“Damnit!”
“Careful – “
Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.
Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.
His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.
Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.
“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”
“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”
“That’s good”
Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.
Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.
“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.
“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”
“It feels right”
Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.
Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.
His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.
The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.
“Would you like to dance?”
Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.
The Suriel 2
In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.
But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.
The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.
As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.
The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.
He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.
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bat-boys · 8 days
Text
a healer's touch
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 5.8k
warnings: mentions of injury and blood, a small amount of angst, lots of fluff
summary: as a healer you meet many people as part of your profession but when you are asked to heal a certain spymaster you are unprepared for the connection that comes with it.
a/n: hello, I'm new here! I had this in my head so needed to write to down. I hope you enjoy.
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It had been a regular, if somewhat busy, morning at the healer's centre in Velaris. There had been a steady queue of people coming in and out to collect medicine, ask about a rash that concerned them or even pop in to express their thanks for healing a family member. You hummed a soft, familiar tune as you mixed herbs to create a salve for one of your regular patients whose old, aching bones continuously bothered them. 
It was days like this that reminded you of why you loved being a healer so much.
"Girl! Come with me. We're needed at the House of Wind." The calmness that had settled over the room was banished as Madja, the head healer, your mentor and distant aunt on your mother's side, bustled into the workroom to grab her box of salves, potions and herbs she kept on hand for moments like this.
"T-the House of Wind?" You squeaked as you set down your mortar and pestle, absentmindedly brushing your suddenly sweaty hands on your apron. 
"Yes," Madja sighed, "I curse the day I gave Rhysand permission to call for me personally anytime any of his friends get themselves into trouble." The words may have been harsh, but there was a warm fondness to her tone, and you knew she fussed over the Inner Circle like they were her own children.
"But me? Are you sure?" You may have been apprenticing under Madja for nearly a century at this point, but she, your peers, and the people of Velaris consider you a skilled healer in your own right. However, this was new and somewhat scary. You had never set foot into the House of Wind and barely interacted with the Inner Circle, whom you revered and respected for the future they were building across Prythian. You knew it was irrational, but you were terrified of attending to them and your healer skills fleeing at the very moment you needed them most. 
Madja stopped fussing and turned towards you, understanding flickering across her features as she took in your hands, wringing nervously in front of you. 
"Y/N, you are my best student, my successor - you are ready for this." Her voice was firm in her conviction, but her smile was soft as she fondly brushed a stray strand of hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, "Now come, get your things; I dread to think what they've gotten up to up there!"
The following five minutes passed in a blur as you shucked off your apron, grabbed your bag similar to the one Madja carried and met the two Illyrian lieutenants who bundled you up in their arms and flew you to the House. 
From the entryway alone, you knew the House of Wind was the most beautiful home you had ever stepped foot in. Madja chuckled beside you and didn't give you time to appreciate the room's beauty before she walked ahead of you and gestured for you to follow. Your heart was thumping rapidly in your chest as you swung your head from left to right and walked through the lovely hallways, trying to capture every ornate detail that decorated the walls. You must have been staring wide-eyed because Madja gently bumped her shoulder into yours, reminding you to remain professional. 
It wasn't long before she led you up a series of stairs and stepped outside into the sun's warm rays. For a moment, you let your head tip back slightly, closing your eyes to let the rays dance along your face. Down in the city, you very rarely got to feel the sun on your skin like this. There was always the long shadow of a building to obscure the sun, or you were simply too busy rushing from patient to patient to fully enjoy it. 
You used the moment to centre yourself, reminding yourself of your extensive training and ability and capability to heal almost any wound. You were the head healer-in-training, and you could do this.  You let your eyes adjust to the scene before you as you took in the outside training centre. The floor was covered in what you assumed was red dust, coating the hem of your dress and clinging to the brown leather of your slippers. Racks of weapons lined the walls, a ring was set up in the centre clearly for sparring, and ropes and punch bags were littered across the space, too. You could see that the training session was still ongoing, and you could hear people shouting suggestions to each other over the sound of swords clashing, but your attention snagged on the two males you saw grumbling next to each other. You knew who they were immediately and swallowed thickly as you realised it was them you had been summoned to heal. 
"What trouble have you two found yourself in now?" Madja called as she walked towards the pair of them. 
"It isn't our fault!" The one you immediately recognised as Cassian exclaimed.
"It never is." Madja teased back.
"We saw the guards in the Summer Court using a new training technique, and we decided to try it out…it didn't go well." 
"Evidently not. You tend to Azriel, I'll take this one." Madja sighed, already moving away from you to deal with Cassian. 
You faintly heard Cassian make a witty comment behind you before it was cut off with a hiss as Madja laid a hand on the cut slicing his chest. However, you were distracted as you turned to face the other Illyrian sporting a nasty injury, and made direct eye contact with those beautiful, disconcerting, ice-cold hazel eyes. Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you made your way over to him, your heart slamming into your chest.
"Hi, I'm Y/N." You cursed yourself for sounding breathless and for the blush that no doubt was creeping up your neck.
"I'm Azriel." His deep baritone voice sent a shiver of delight down your spine and knocked the rest of your breath from you. 
"I know." You smiled at him, and he smiled very faintly back, a soft huff leaving his lips as you set your bag down and reached out your hand to him, "May I take a look?"
Early on in your training, you discovered that if your patient was conscious and capable of answering questions, you would ask consent to touch them and walk them through anything you were about to do. You found this calmed them down and created a sense of trust.
Azriel blinked at the question, not used to someone with such a soft demeanour looking after him. He didn't respond but simply extended his arm towards you. Gently, like he could bolt at any moment, you held his wrist in your hand and slowly tilted his arm to get a look at the gash you could see through his leathers. 
A soft hum escaped your lips as you saw the slash in his leathers and the blood leaking through the cut to his skin. It didn't look too deep but would undoubtedly need healing if he needed to use any of his weapons anytime soon. 
"I'm going to remove your leathers. Is that ok?" You asked, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him again, ready for the way his gaze knocked the breath out of you again. He simply nodded, and you smiled at him before you bent your head back to the task at hand. 
Azriel barely breathed as he watched you unbuckle the strap at his wrists and then push the leathers off his arm. He had never experienced such softness from a healer or anyone before. He allowed himself to look at you, to let his eyes roam over your beautiful face. His eyes snagged on that strand of hair that had fallen from the bun that rested above the nape of your neck, and he had to physically stop himself from reaching out and discovering how soft your hair felt between his scarred fingers. He almost gasped when your fingers finally touched his bare skin, and a jolt of electricity zipped through his body at the contact. 
"Oh, this doesn't look too deep; that's good!" you mumbled as you gently sponged away the blood from around the cut to get a better look at it. "Ok, I'm going to close the cut. You probably know this, but it may tingle." 
The shadowsinger watched as your brows furrowed, and the hand that wasn't clutching his wrist hovered above the cut on his arm. Warmth spread down that cut, turning into a delightful tingle reverberating around his body. He had always hated this moment of being healed, cringing at the way his skin would knit together before him, almost against his will. However, he didn't feel anything as he watched the cut on his arm disappear and marvelled at the almost pleasant way your magic brushed against his. 
"Thank you." Azriel sounded breathless.
"You are most welcome." He watched, unable to move, as your hands slipped from his forearm to gently trace the scars around his hand. Azriel was often jumpy around his hands, hating the way they looked, but he couldn't help marvelling at the way you touched them as if you weren't afraid or sad—merely curious: "Do your hands get stiff at all?"
"Sometimes after a long day of training or when it's cold." You could feel his eyes on you as you continued to examine his hands. You had noticed them when you had first looked at his injury, having heard of them through various whispers and rumours that filtered through Velaris. What you hadn't been prepared for was how beautiful they were. To you, the scars that had been left behind, were a testament to his strength. 
"Hmmm, I thought as much," you said, looking up from his hands to meet his gaze. "I have a salve that will help if you would like it?"
"I would like that very much." His answer was very soft, and it caused the breath to escape your lungs once again. 
"Pop down to the clinic when you're next in the city. I'll have it ready to collect from tomorrow. Or just send word, and I will ask a courier to deliver it to you. I know how busy you are!" You could tell you were rambling now, and from the quirk of his lips, you were also blushing furiously. 
"I'll collect it myself, Y/N, I wouldn't want to trouble you."
"It's no trouble at all." You whispered. 
"Y/N! Can you also check over this Valkyrie once you're done with the spymaster, please?" Madja's voice broke through the peaceful silence you and the spymaster were enjoying—both of you shocked but not displeased by this steady connection you seemed to have. 
"Of course, I'll be right there!" You turned back to Azriel with an apologetic smile, "I'd best go; it was lovely to meet you, Azriel."
He watched as you gathered your supplies, brushing that strand of hair behind your ears, "And you, Y/N. I'll see you in the clinic."
As you walked away to tend to one of the young females who was smiling sheepishly at you, you couldn't help the butterflies that flew about in your stomach at the thought of seeing Azriel again. 
You hadn't expected to see him walking through the door to the healer's centre the next day. So when you heard the soft tinkle of the bell above the door and turned around to greet whoever had walked through, your heart leapt into your throat, and your breath left your lungs as you beheld the Illyrian warrior who had wandered into your sanctum. 
"Azriel." You whispered, similar shy smiles falling on both of your lips. 
"I hope this is a good time? I wasn't sure when would be best to pop in."
"Oh no! This is great. I finished your salve an hour ago, so it's ready for you to take home." You grabbed the small bottle you had filled not long ago off the counter and passed it over to him, "Rub this liberally over your hands when they are stiff. You can also use it as a preventative measure on days you know you might need it. Let me know if you need any more and how you get on, and we can adjust some of the ingredients."
"Thank you again, Y/N," You had to hold your body incredibly still to avoid the shiver that wanted to wander down your spine at the sound of your name rolling off Azriel's tongue. 
The pair of you stared at each other as silence once again settled over the room—a comfortable silence, one you didn't feel the need to fill. It was refreshing to feel that with someone, not having to say something to fill an awkward void. It was peaceful, and it surprised you to feel that with someone like Azriel, someone who was feared in every Court across Prythian, whose stories were used by parents to get their children to behave. 
"When do you finish your shift?" He finally asked, breaking that comfortable silence. 
"Oh! I actually finished ten minutes ago - you caught me as I was closing up." 
"In that case, can I get you dinner? To say thank you for the healing yesterday and the salve." Azriel looked almost shy as he shifted on his feet, having to clear his throat a couple of times. 
"Oh, you don't have to do that!" You were sure a vibrant blush was sweeping up your neck, and along your cheeks, at the soft smile the spymaster was giving you. 
"I'd like to." His soft voice made your heart melt, and in that moment, you knew you'd give anything to spend even a second more in his presence. 
"I would like that. I know a restaurant just a few minutes away that I've been meaning to try?"
His lips turned up into a broad smile, "Perfect. Lead the way."
If you had told yourself when you had joined the healer's centre all those years ago that it would lead to a friendship with your High Lord's spymaster, you would have laughed till you were hoarse. But that lovely meal you shared with Azriel in that charming restaurant along the Sidra was not the last. 
Azriel had taken it upon himself a couple of times a week to drop by the centre - either just as you were about to take your lunch break or just as you were finishing up for the evening - to take you out for a meal. Together, you had explored almost every cafe, restaurant, and picnic spot on this side of the city, and each time, you had left beaming ear to ear.
He had also taken it upon himself to either call down to the centre or request you come to the House of Wind to personally attend to the injuries he received from training or whilst away on missions. You had started to suspect that he called you even for injuries he could heal himself, and you blushed furiously every time you thought about it but refused to call him out on it, even jokingly. You lived every day for those visits, for those moments between the two of you, the times after the healing when you would sit together and talk, and the easy companionship you found in Azriel. 
Madja and Cassian had caught on to it, and both just smiled knowing looks when you told them you were off to the House of Wind or when you passed them in the hallway. Your frequent visits also meant that you had been introduced to Azriel's family, the Inner Circle of the Night Court. Slowly, over the months, you and Azriel developed your friendship, and you also began to cultivate friendships with the others, particularly Feyre, Rhys, and Cassian. 
Cassian made you laugh with his jokes, Rhys and you bonded over your shared ambition for the future you both so desperately wanted to create, and Feyre had become a dear friend who sometimes winnowed into your small apartment in the city to have girls' nights. 
You couldn't believe your luck at how your life had pivoted in the last couple of months, the happiness you now felt. All thanks to one person.
And one evening, after healing a nasty gash on Az's leg, you sat on the sofa next to him with the rest of his family scattered around you, a glass of wine in your hand and Az's wing hovering behind you to block out the cool breeze coming in through the open window you realised just much you loved him. 
"How many times a day do I use it?" the elderly patient in front of you asked again. You gave them a soft smile before reaching for a scrap of paper and pen beside you and scribbling the instructions down for them.
"Twice a day, once when you wake up and then again before you go to bed," you handed the piece of paper over to them, and they offered you a very grateful smile. "If you see no improvements within three days, come back, and we'll try something else."
"Thank you, Y/N, truly thank you." You waved them off with a fond smile as they shuffled out of the centre.
You were just turning to offer a smile and welcome to the next person who stood in line at the large counter in the centre of the room when the main door to the centre burst open, and Cassian stood in the doorway. Immediately, you knew something was wrong. His body was heaving, and he was out of breath as if he had rushed to find you.
"It's Azriel," he thundered. Your blood ran cold, and your heart stopped dead in your chest before starting up at a thunderous pace. Immediately, you allowed your calm healer's mind to take over, silencing the roaring in your ears and the panic clawing up your throat.
"Marta! I need you to take over at the counter. If it's urgent and you can't help, call for Sara. If it's something that can wait, take note of their name and where they live, and I will personally visit them in the next couple of days. Is that ok?" You didn't wait for a reply, throwing the apron off your body and grabbing the box of supplies you always kept by your feet when on counter duty in case you needed to rush off to a patient before diving around the counter towards Cassian. 
He threw an arm over your shoulder in greeting and comfort and to steer you through the crowd to a section of the street that was less occupied so he could fly you both up the House of Wind. 
"How bad is it?" You mumbled as you felt his strong hands cup underneath your knees and around your back, your arms reaching up to loop around his neck. 
"Bad," he grunted as he soared into the air. Being in Cassian's arms as he flew was so different from being in Azriel's. He was warm like the spymaster, but the desire to explore the air with the male wasn't there. The joy you often took in this short journey was missing. 
Cassian landed heavily on the tiled floor of the entryway, back where you had stood all those months ago when you had first been summoned. The House was deathly quiet as you made the familiar walk through hallways you barely acknowledged towards the bedroom Azriel always occupied. 
“Y/N.” Rhys breathed your name as you strolled towards him, and you noticed how Feyre, Mor and Nesta stood around the open door, each looking more nervous than the last. 
"Rhys," you acknowledged your High Lord, someone who had become your friend in the last couple of months, "is he in there?" You asked, his head dipping in a single nod as you slipped past him into the room. 
A sob almost wrenched itself from your throat as your eyes finally landed on Azriel. He was deathly pale, his body sprawled atop the covers of his bed, his wings flared out beneath him. You stared at him for a second, silently willing his chest to rise and fall with breath, and when it did, you almost screamed to whichever God would listen. A part of you couldn't help but acknowledge that he still looked handsome in this state, the proud line of his nose, the sensual curve of his lips - even as blood dripped from the huge wound in his chest and pooled on the bedsheets underneath him. 
"Where is Madja?" Rhys quietly asked as you stepped into the room and dropped your supplies by the side of the bed, your hands shaking as you began to raise them to assess Azriel's condition. 
"Away tending to a terminally ill family member." You tightly replied. 
"Shit." Shit, indeed, you wanted to grumble, but you were also suddenly, unspeakably angry. 
"With all due respect, Rhys, I have been trained personally by Madja for over a century, and I have been tending to this male's wounds personally for the last couple of months. I know his body and how it heals better than I know my own. I will take a look, and if it is beyond my capabilities, we will call for Madja, but I promise you now I will heal him." Everyone froze in the wake of your outburst, but you kept your eyes locked on the High Lord of the Night Court, a male you had grown increasingly fond of as you spent more time with Az and his family. He simply looked at you, a beat of understanding flashing in his eyes before he turned to his mate standing beside him, reaching out to take her hand and smiling softly at her before turning back to you.
"My apologies, Y/N. Please, do what you do best." His words were soft and apologetic, and you simply nodded at him before turning back to the male sprawled on the bed before you. 
Your heart broke to see him in such a state, the man you had grown to love. 
"What do you need?" Feyre softly asked behind you. Suddenly, you were incredibly grateful that Az had friends who cared about him so deeply and honoured that he had introduced you to them, too, and brought you into the lovely warmth of friendship. 
"Two bowls of water—one warm and the other cool—and some rags, please, Fey. I also need someone to help me get him out of his leathers. Can someone close all of the curtains and drapes in this room and get some faelights in here, please?" Immediately, Cassian was in front of you, starting at the buckles on his wrists, ankles, and chest. 
"Why?" Someone asked behind you, you thought it was Mor. 
"His shadows. They'll help heal him, but we need to create the environment in which they thrive best: darkness." Both you and Az had tested the theory over the last couple of months and you had found he was stronger and healed quicker when his shadows were around. It was something you so desperately wanted to study further but didn't want to overstep a boundary. 
Finally, between you and his best friend, you managed to wrangle Azriel out of his leathers, careful not to jostle him too much to not irritate his wound. 
"How bad is it?" Cassian asked, parroting back to you the question you had asked him not ten minutes ago but what felt like hours. You ignored him for a second, taking a look at the hole in Az's chest, punched just above his heart and cutting through those beautiful Illriyan tattoos before reaching your hand out to hover over the wound to get a better feel of it.
"Bad," you mumbled, "but easily enough to heal." A series of sighs cut through the tension in the room as every member of the Inner Circle let out a breath they had all been collectively holding. "He was stabbed from the front with a blade tipped with an ash arrow, I believe. He pulled the blade from his body, but it has left some splinters behind, draining his powers and stopping him from healing. Infection has set in so I think this happened a couple of days ago, he must have gained enough strength to winnow back here before passing out."
"Do what you need to, Y/N." Rhys's voice was soft but had the undercurrent of a High Lord's command—heal my friend, he commanded. You nodded once before rolling up your sleeves and turning back to Azriel.
For hours, you worked at healing Az, praying to the Mother throughout it all that he would pull through - if only so you could tell him how much you loved him.
There was nothing gentle about the way Azriel surfaced to consciousness. One moment he was swimming in darkness, and the next, his eyes shot open, and he sucked in a huge faltering breath. After years of meticulous training, his senses immediately began to take in his surroundings, and his brain was already calculating his escape route. It was only when he took in the soft bed beneath him, the familiar decorations in the room, and the female sat curled up in a chair beside him that he could recognise that he was home. That he was safe.
Safe.
He felt the twinge in his chest. He knew the moment he moved, a biting pain would radiate throughout his body, so for the moment, he just lay there. His eyes stayed focused on you, on the way you had clearly pushed a chair as close as you could to his bedside. Your hair piled up in a messy bun on the top of your head—tendrils escaping and framing your beautiful face—and a damp rag hung limply from your hand.
His shadows flitted around him, whispering your name to him in a fond way he had never heard them speak of another before. They told him how you had rushed to his side, commanded the room, and stood up for yourself and your capabilities. How you had spent hours upon hours pulling splinters out of the wound and then encouraging his skin to knit together, to heal. How you had nearly spent your entire magic to save him and had then stayed and made sure he battled the infection, sponging cool water onto his skin, talking to him as if he was conscious. 
“Y/N.” He whispered, his voice hoarse from misuse and lack of water. Immediately, your eyelashes fluttered and opened, scanning the room before landing on his awake form. Now that your beautiful eyes were open, he could see the smudge of purple underneath each one, and a pang vibrated through his chest at the thought of this incredible female staying by his side even when you were exhausted. 
"Az." You whispered back, tears begin to shimmer in your eyes as you took in the shadowsinger finally awake. Still pale and far from healed entirely, but awake. 
He winced slightly as he reached out and hesitated somewhat before gently cupping your jaw, stroking his thumb along your cheek and catching the tears slipping free.
"Thank you." You knew his shadows had whispered to him that you had almost depleted yourself for him and risked yourself to heal him. 
"You scared me." His face crumpled at your words as he saw in your eyes the terror you went through for those hours you weren't sure he would make it through. Guilt ate at him for not spotting the trap that had been laid for him.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was ambushed." He continued to brush his thumb over your skin, and you let the feeling ground you and reassure you that he was here and alive.
"I don't need to know," he heard what you were saying, that you didn't want to know, "do you want to sit up?" 
"Yes, please." You moved swiftly and efficiently, having done this for so many patients before Az. You gently scooped under his arms and lifted his weight so he could move to a sitting position. He winced as the movement tugged on his newly stitched-together skin, but with your expert handling, he wasn't in too much pain. "How long was I out for?"
"A day and a half."
"Shit. I need to debrief with Rhys." He made to sit up further, to swing his legs over the side of his bed, but your hand was instantly there on his shoulder - softly but firmly pushing back. 
"Later. Once you've had some water and food, and I've had a chance to assess your wound again."
"Yes, ma'am." He smirked and gently took the hand that was on his shoulder, intertwining your fingers and running his thumb comfortingly over your knuckles. 
Another soft silence settled over you both, and Azriel found himself glancing down at your connected hands, "That day we met was the first time someone had dared to look closely at my hands. It was also the first time I saw someone examine them and not flinch."
"Your hands are beautiful, Az." Your voice was soft, still shaky from crying. 
"You don't need to say that Y/N." 
"No, I'm serious," you frowned, "your hands are beautiful, and they are strong - just like you." You both watched as you trailed your fingers across the back of his hands, tracing the lines of scar tissue. "I was so scared when Cassian burst into the centre, but that didn't match the terror when I saw you unconscious, and I didn't know if I would get a chance to tell you how much you mean to me." He could hear the emotion building in your voice again. 
"Come here, sweetheart." His face was soft as he held his arm out and motioned for you to come closer. A sob lodged itself from your throat as you shifted, taking care of his wings and injury, to slip onto the bed and move into the warm space of Azriel's body. Immediately, you curled into his side, carefully slipping a hand around his waist to hold him closer. Az curled his arm around you, and the feeling of being in his arms, being held by him, had your heart soaring in your chest. 
"Did it snap in place for you?" he asked softly, and you knew what he was asking—he was tugging at that soft thread that now sat between you. 
"When I saw you lying there unconscious. You?" That moment when your eyes had landed on Azriel on his bed, true terror had speared through you as that bond had snapped into place, and you had realised it was your mate lying there in the space between life and death. 
"That first day, when you held my hands so gently and offered me that salve." His voice held so much emotion, and you felt warmth trickle down that thread and disperse throughout your body as you both acknowledged the bond. 
"Az." He closed his eyes at the sound of his name on your tongue, and he could never get tired of hearing the way you said it as you propped yourself up to look at him. 
"We can talk about it later, about what you want to do and how we move forward. You don't have to make any decisions now." His hand stroked the skin on your exposed arm, the other finally brushing that strand of hair out of your eyes. A frown fell on your face at his words.
"I hope you are talking about how we accept the mating bond and not whether I want to accept it in the first place. I am honoured to be your mate, Azriel, and to get the chance to love you for the rest of our lives." He was sure he had stopped breathing, convinced he was still dreaming. That you would be willing to spend the rest of your life with him, to love him the way he loved you so fiercely. 
"Are you sure?" His voice sounded small, and you couldn't help the smile that danced on your lips. 
"I have never been more sure of something in my life, Az. You deserve this type of love. Let me give it to you." You whispered as you closed the space between you two. Your eyes scanned his face, ready to pull away if he gave the signal that he wasn't ready. But as his breath fanned your lips, your eyes locked, and the hand that had brushed your hair aside cupped your jaw firmly in his large palm, as he surged forward to capture your lips in his. 
Immediately, fireworks erupted behind your eyes at the delicious feeling of his lips moving against yours, wave after wave of pleasure rolling down your spine as you tilted your head back to give him more access. A soft moan slipped past your lips when Azriel gently nibbled on your bottom lip, causing a gasp, which he swallowed expertly with his mouth. You felt Azriel's hand slip from your jaw to cup the back of your neck, holding you firmly as the kiss transformed from something sweet into something else, something more wonton, something close to fire. 
Far too quickly for your liking, Azriel pulled away, gasping for air. Your eyes fluttered open as he rested his forehead against yours, a soft grin dancing on both of your lips as you made eye contact and saw the emotion swimming in both of your eyes. Azriel watched, entranced, as he swiped his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. Your eyelids fluttered as a soft moan escaped again between your lips; Azriel wondered if that was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.  
"My mate. I have waited for over five hundred years for you." He whispered into the heated air between you. 
"I hope I was worth the wait." You joked. Azriel couldn't help but close the space again at your words to press his lips to yours again in a soft kiss this time.
"You definitely are." Your toes curled at his tone, and as his lips still brushed against yours as he spoke. 
"The healer and the spymaster… there's a story there, I think." You grinned as you brushed his hair back off his forehead, wanting to take in every inch of emotion that he was freely displaying on his face. 
"And we will write it together," he promised, and you couldn't help the matching grins on your faces as you leant forward again to join your lips together in another spectacular kiss—knowing that for the rest of your very long life, you would never get tired of kissing Azriel, your mate. 
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lure-of-writing · 22 days
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Kick your ass
Note: Hi everybody long time no see! I would assume that is doesn't come as a surprise when I say being a flight attendant leaves no room for writing much less doing anything else but sleeping but here we are after what I'm sure can be counted as forever. Anyways I feel like this story is when your partner just isn't getting it right and it's driving you crazy and you get a little ( or a lot) sassy. I'm so happy to have finally written something in so long and I hope you love it!
Word count-2.3K
Warnings- none unless you count cussing
Summary: Lately all your mate does is piss you off. And don't get it wrong you love him but you are more than ready to kick his ass.
You love Azriel with all of your heart, your whole being if you're being completely honest but lately he has done nothing but piss you off. It first started with him going on a mission during the middle of your cycle. Since the moment you knew Azirel was your mate you gave clear explicit instructions that Azriel was to be no more than five feet away from you during that time of the year unless it was for something of the utmost importance and could not be handled by anyone else. Imagine your surprise when he started grabbing his leather clothing after he had made you breakfast and had gotten you comfortable in your bed that could fit three grown Illyrian men. 
“And just where do you think you're going?” Azriel could feel like distaste dripping off of your words and hitting him in the back as he was faced away from you. It was no secret that Azriel loved you more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy but when you were on your period you could be a handful and more often than not you tested his never ending patience until you actually found the end of its supply. With a slow release of his breath he turns around to find you perched on the edge of the bed throwing an angry glare in his direction. “Listen baby” the shadowsinger slowly approached you like you were a wild animal ready to strike at any moment and honestly that comparison isn’t too far off with the way you look like you're ready to rip his head off of his shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to, yeah?” he kneels before you gently rubbing comforting circles on your bare thigh while giving you a soft smile reserved for only you. “Is the information you retrieve from this mission of that great value?” he watched as you paused waiting for the answer that both he and you already knew. “Is there no one else beneath you who could do it instead?” And while yes there were people beneath him that could handle this task, Azriel is a perfectionist and would like to make sure things get done right. “Is it so important that you must leave your mate during their cycle knowing the excruciating pain I endure? It's so important you must put this before your mate?” 
Azriel knew this conversation was a losing battle on his end but he also knew if he would like to be able to sleep next to you tonight that he must offer something to make up for it. “No my love, there isn’t anyone else who can handle this as they are all busy at the moment but don’t worry I will be back before dinner.”  Even as you glowered down at him all the shadowsinger could think about was two things. One, he is definitely in trouble and two, how stunning you look. “I don’t care if no one else can do it, get that brute of your brother to handle it.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way as if to send Cassian on this mission yourself and Azriel couldn’t help but lay his head on your legs and laugh and your attitude. 
The next time Azriel made you mad was during a family dinner with the inner circle. At first with all the new people, family dinners were a little awkward and unbearable mostly due to Cassians pinning over Nesta and her constant blatant rejection but also because of the middle sister's fascination with your mate. Did she know he was your mate? Yes. Did that stop her from having a crush? Absolutely not.
As you were getting ready to head down to Feyres and Rhysands new house you had made it clear he needed to put his foot down and tell Elain he was not and would never be interested in a relationship with her otherwise you would handle it yourself and Azriel knew that meant you would become your own nasiter version of Nesta and you would tear her down until she couldn’t even look you in the eyes. It may not be the best way to handle her crush but until Azriel when it came to dealing with people who had a crush on him you tended to leave your manners at the door. 
Everything was going well at the river house until you walked into the dinning room with Amren and spot your mate seated next to Elain on one side and Mor on the other side. The whole group could feel the shift in the temperature as it dropped and you gave a cold and pointed stare to your mate. Possessing the same powers as Rhysand you barged into his mind “What the hell is this?” without responding he gently shakes his head in a not right here manner and pleading with his eye for you to just let this go. Silently you take your seat across the table from him and sit next to your high lady and Amren. For the rest of the dinner you say nothing as your pin Azriel to his seat as your seething anger radiates off of you and hits him like a tidal wave over and over again never once giving him a break. 
“Y/n” Azriel had waited until after you had taken your bath and done your fifteen step skin and body care route and had gotten into bed with your current book you picked to read before approaching you. He gently sat down on the bed next to your legs and hopped you don;t make him sleep on the couch tonight.  “I know you're upset with what happened at dinner but it just happened one minute I was talking with Mor and the next Elain was ushering us all in to eat dinner and she just happened to sit next to me.” As he gave his explanation of the night's events you had closed your book and laid it in your lap and nodded silently in understanding waiting for your mate to be done talking. “Is that so?” you asked in a thoughtful way. Now Azriel has been with you long enough to know that tone of voice and that statement should strike the fear of every god into him and it definitely did. “Yes, I promise that's what happened.” Once again you nodded in understanding before tilting your head to the side with a confused look on your face. “So if that's all that happened then why would Elain feel comfortable sitting next to you knowing that you have a mate who cannot stand her crush on you? And didn’t I tell you to make sure Elain knew in no uncertain terms that her fantasy of having a relationship with you was nothing more than a fantasy and if she tried I would kill her?” Azriels heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to you talk, he had known that there was something he needed to do but as soon as he entered the house Cassian gave him a cup of a mysterious alcohol and Rhysand had beckoned him over to fill him in on the status of a mission one of his spies were on. And before he knew it Morrgian had whisked him away to talk about her journey on the continent and the information she had obtained while there and the next thing he knew he was sat between the girl he used to have a crush on and the girl who currently has a crush on him. Candidly he knew he was fucked. 
“Let's go with your version of events like you said they happened shall we? I am going to assume you got too busy with everyone to tell Elain to knock off her childish behavior, which you would have done in a much nicer way because you are you. Then why didn’t you say anything to her when I walked in or better yet why didn’t you get up to sit next to me instead?” As a professional interrogator your mate knew you had just walked him into a trap and for a split second he wondered why you didn’t have his job instead. “Baby you know both of those options would have been rude and probably would have ruined the dinner.” Nodding in fake understanding you inspect your nails giving it a brief second before responding “And you are the shadowsinger of the night court. One of the most feared males in Prythian and you couldn’t muster up the courage to say something to Elain? How ironic is that.” You scoffed and shook your head in a surprised manner and needless to say he ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 
The last straw was watching Azriel train the valkyries and watching them not so subtly drool over your mate. You wouldn’t be one to blame them if they had done so in a respectful way but they were bluntly flirting with your mate right in front of you. One thing you loved about Azriel was how secure he was in your relationship. No one could make him look in the direction that wasn’t you, if someone was trying to flirt with him he didn’t register it unless it was you. And normally you wouldn’t have a problem with that except three girls were currently trying to make a pass at him and he had no reaction. Most would take that in a positive way but not you, you wanted him to shut that down the second it started and make a clear line in the sand on what was expected from the student-teacher relationship amongst him and the Valkyries he was training. “Azriel!” You had barely shouted his name from across the training platform on the house of wind but it felt as if you had. He turned around to see you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest and face set in a scowl while glaring at him. Turing to look at the trainees before him he instructs them on what to do next before quickly making his way to you. “Yes my love?” he asks in such a hushed and concerned tone that you almost forget what you called him over to yell at him about, but over his shoulder you see one of the girls check him out and suddenly you remembered all over again what it was that you needed to speak to him about. “You need to tell your students to stop checking you out and to close their mouths before they start drooling all over themselves.” Your mate's face scrunched in confusion. Azriel may be an excellent observer but when it came to himself not so much. He couldn’t see his own beauty that was hand crafted from the gods themselves, he couldn;t see how his quiet and standoffish personality drew people in, he couldn't see all of the things that you loved about him could all be the reason that other people lust after him. 
His shadows gave him a play by play of what his students had been doing while he wasn’t focused on each person in particular and how you had been brewing in your anger in the corner by yourself. As soon as you put on your fighting leathers this morning Azriel knew he was doomed as it was your ritual to fight each other everyday during training but seeing you in the corner pissed that other people had been checking him out brought his demise to a whole nother level. Azriel subtly glanced down at where your arms were crossed over your chest and he thanked the gods for your outfit. “You sound a little upset, my love.” Once more you send him one of your signature pointed looks “Yeah you would be upset also if the roles were reversed.” He shrugs slightly while tilting his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his body. “You’re not wrong I would be upset because nobody gets to look at you that way unless it's me.” He pulls you even closer to his body until you’re chest to chest with him and he bends down to whisper in your ear. “Beat me in a match and I will make sure they know I’m no one else's but yours. I'll let you claim me anyway you want, hell I’ll even let you do it in front of them if that will make you feel better.” Both you and Azriel knew the game he was playing at but neither of you cared, well him less than you. You pulled away slightly to look up at your mate and see the smirk resting upon his very kissable looking lips “Sounds like a deal to me because I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.” 
The shadowsinger followed behind you with a laugh and he shook his head in amusement while taking in your figure from behind. He watched as you got into your fighting stance and waited for him to do the same. He held his hand up to signal you to give him a moment. Turning around to look at the Valkyries in training he gathered their attention without saying a word. “I think it's about time to see what the last remaining real valkyrie looks light during a fight and maybe then you can aspire to be a fraction of as good as my beautiful mate is.” He turned back around to see you glowing with confidence, determination and love, but also the want to make sure you won his bet. Gods he knew this was going to lead to some great sex after you kicked his ass and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more.
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heartysworld · 1 month
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Say it, loud and clear! || Azriel x Fem!Reader
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A/N: so my friend gave me this idea where Rhys' dad took Azriel in as his own son after the two got so close. And I couldn't come up with a proper title for him so Prince will have to do for now! If you have any suggestions send them! I hope you enjoy this <3
W.C: 1.9k
If you're interested in more of these you can check out my wattpad account where I have a lot more posted from a whole ago! Right HERE
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You laid in bed,covered in furs while the fireplace cracked with life af the wood inside burned. The season was starting to get colder and colder. Meanwhile, Azriel sat on the other side of the bed,his upper half exposed to the still cold air while he fastened the laces of his leather pants. The two of you had spent another night tangled in each other, just like you did for the last half a year.
The entire high family of the Day Court had been invited to spend a year under the roof of the High Lord of the Night Court in an attempt to form stronger alliance. Late at night,when every living soul is already away at the world of the dreaming a quiet knock on the wooden doors of your chambers would pull you out of your thoughts. This secret relationship was something you couldn't describe yourself. To you it was more than just seeking pleasure, you had grown to love the older Prince ever since the two of you were younger. What scared you was not knowing how Azriel felt about this, he never spoke of his thoughts and feelings. The only time he did so was the first time he spent the night with you,that same night he took your innocence away, whispering sweet words in your ear as he broke through you. The way your heart fluttered that night made you think about this moment quite often.
You haven't thought of asking him about it any sooner,until the previous morning you overhead your father and the Lord of Night speaking of a potential marriage between you and the Prince. Your father also mentioned another proposal for your hand that came from the lands of Spring. The only heir of the Spring Court had his eyes set on you ever since his family's last visit to Day. There was nothing bad about Tamlin, but knowing that your heart was already stolen by another prevented you from thinking of possibly accepting him as your husband.
"I heard something yesterday." You said while looking at Azriel's naked back, his wings spread mightily around him, making the sight even more magnificent.
"What did you hear again, sweet dove?" Azriel asked, turning his body around to look at you with a small smile. Slowly he crawled back on the bed, hovering above you as he started stealing kisses from your lips.
You delayed your answer, wanting to enjoy the moment for longer. You hand went to your lover's face, holding it gently while you kissed him, earning a quiet groan as your cold hands made contact with his warm skin.
"Yesterday morning" you started, interrupting the kiss,still keeping your Prince close to you. "I overheard our fathers speaking."
"Go on, you've caught my interest." Azriel said, smirking at the confession that you had spied on a conversation between two of the High Lord's of Prythian.
"They were speaking of potentially marrying us." You replied.
The moment those words left your mouth you felt Azriel's body tense above yours. Seconds later he was away from you, out of bed, searching for the remainder of his clothes.
His reaction both surprised you and didn't. You never knew what to expect from him whenever news that involve himself were discussed.
"What are you doing, Azriel? What's with the rush let's talk about this!" You said,now standing up close to him as you tried to make him stop his frantic movements.
"There is nothing to talk about, Y/N, if they bring up the decision for this marriage to you, just decline it!" The Prince replied, now pulling his nightshirt over his head.
Your heart broke at his words. He didn't want to even speak about this.
"Why should I decline? Don't you want us to marry and no longer have to hide this relationship from people's eyes? I thought you loved me!" You said finally snapping at him and his behavior.
His reaction followed seconds later after your outburst.
"No! No I do not wish to get married! I do not want to spent my life in a loveless marriage, to be tied down to the duty of producing children that would remain forgotten by the nation or even worse! Killed!" Azriel shouted. He spilled words out one after another, each and every single one cutting harder through you.
By the time he was finished tears were already streaming down your face while your body trembled. He didn't want you,he didn't love you. All he wanted was your body and you were too blind to see it. All these months ago,those sweet words he whispered to you were only a facade,so he could get what he wanted.
"Very well then. Have a good day, my Prince." You said,voice already breaking at the end of your sentence. You bowed your head slightly, something you haven't done in years.  Azriel never has you call him "Prince" or curtsey to him whenever you encountered him ever since you were children.
After he dressed himself he left your chambers without another word. Soon after your maids arrived, finding you curled on a ball in your bed, sobbing quietly. The three women were concerned about your state, asking if something had happened,if you were hurt in any way. You answered their questions with some made up story about a dream that felt too real and made you feel scared. No more words were exchanged.
When it was time for breakfast you were informed that Prince Azriel was not going to be present for your usual shared breakfast as he had left more than an hour ago and fled Velaris. He ran away from you to Mother know where, taking away the happiness he brought you with him.
The next week or so was spent mostly in your chambers or out in the gardens. The High Lord's mate herself had invited you to join her once after hearing of you staying in your room constantly.
She was the one to tell you Azriel had gone to Windhaven, claiming he wanted a change of scenery. You knew that was a lie, Azriel hated that place, it reminded him of his younger years, of the time his so called brothers poured oil on his hands and lit them on fire.
During that week your father also sought your presence to dine with him, sharing the news of his conversation with the Lord of Night regarding your possible suitors. The moment he mentioned Azriel your heart broke once again, memories from that morning flooding your mind. Second he spoke of Prince Tamlin and his proposal. You were not pressured to choose immediately, but the sooner you did the better, the High Lord wanted to see his younger son finally get married and if you declined the offer,another woman would be found quickly.
You asked for another week to think through the possibilities on which your father agreed. If Azriel did not return by the seventh day you were going to accept the proposal of the man of spring. It would at least take you as far away as possible from all the pain Azriel caused you.
The next morning, another invitation from the Lady of Night arrived, asking you to join her for breakfast in her private chambers. She had heard from her husband of the possibility of you marrying one of her Princes.
"I have no doubt you are going to make the best choice for yourself,my sweet girl. I also know that my son has been attached to your side ever since he could remember. Why choose a man of sprinf and leave your family behind to go live at the other side of the continent?" She said, sipping on her tea.
You waited a moment before responding.
"The Prince would not want me as his wife, my Lady, he would never even marry if he was given the choice. I do not wish to trap him in a marriage he does not want." You replied,not daring to look at her.
The woman let out a sight before she took your hand in hers, getting your attention.
"I never wished to marry my husband, dear Y/N, but we women don't really have a choice in the society that we live in. With time a woman grows to love her husband." She said.
"I promise to make the best choice, my Lady." You answered with a slight smile as you felt a light squeeze from her hands.
It was the seventh and last day of the period you had to make your decision. With not even a trace from Azriel you had already made up your mind. At least Tamlin wanted to marry you, unlike the Prince who ran away at the mere mention of marriage.
As promised you were invited to join your father and the Lord of Night for lunch where you would name your chosen husband to be. You had a few more hours until so. During those hours left, you bathed, picked up a dress and had one of your maids put your hair up in a nice braid. You wanted to look presentable after letting go fo yourself for almost a fortnight.
Now,you were taking small steps around the House of Wind, making your way towards your father's chambers from where the two of you would go to the High Lord's.
Meanwhile, a certain raven haired Prince ran across the city of Velaris after receiving a letter from his mother early this morning. As a mother, the Lady of Night knew her son had done something to make this beautiful girl in front of her look like an abandoned widow. That's why she sent a letter after thinking things through, informing her son of the decision you were about to make. Yesterday,your maids started asking about your choice,who would you wish to marry. You finally broke your silence, wanting to get it off your chest and so you told them of your loneliness here, of Prince Azriel's reaction of the possible marriage between you two. Later that day, your words reached the High Lady's ears.
"Lady Y/N, where is she?" Azriel asked as he bursted through the open doors of your chambers meeting only the maids who were changing the bedsheets.
"Her Ladyship went to find her father as the two are invited to have lunch with the High Lord." Said one of the three women. The Prince wasted no time as he ran away to try and find you as the maids giggled at his reaction.
His mind was racing with memories of how he left you alone that day a fortnight ago,with a broken heart and treat stained face. You called him Prince, you never did that, he himself had forbade you to do so years ago.
Azriel was afraid of marriage as he had witnessed the way his father treated his mother. The two were wed simply because they were mates and the court needed a male heir, Rhys. Even though the High Lord of Night had taken him under his wing all those decades ago, he could never forgive him for the way he treated his mate, the woman who raised Azriel as hers. The High Lord loved the boy as his own, but he had done way too many wicked deeds.
As Azriel was running to find you he thought of his actions,how could he even think you didn't love him all this time and how stupid he was for not telling you of his own feelings. Now you could slip away from his fingers not knowing of his love for you.
Just as he was about to round a corner in one of the many hallways,he crashed against someone else,a way too familiar voice screaming at the impact.
His body fell above yours as you let out a scream.
Moments later your eyes met the ones you had so dearly missed during the last two weeks,your own filling with tears at the sight of Azriel.
"What are you doing here?" You asked as he still laid above your form.
"Don't marry him." Azriel whispered as his head got closer to yours.
"And why should I do that?" Another question was asked.
"Because I am the one who has loved you ever since I have known you Y/N. I have to have you, it is you or no one else. Don’t marry him. Don’t be with him. Be mine.
"Do you love me, Azriel? That's all I need to know." You asked as a lone tear fell down your cheek. "Gods help me! Answer me Azriel,say it if you mean it,loud and clear!"
"I love you with all my heart,my dear Y/N, and I spent every single moment regretting how I left you alone that day, regretting the words I said to you. I want to marry you,only you. That is...if you'll have me, not only as your husband, but as your mate too." Azriel answered.
Seconds later your lips were on his as the you two shared a much needed kiss. The fact that you layed in the floor long forgotten as you drowned yourselves in the feelings you felt.
Your intimate moment was interrupted by two very familiar voices.
"I think the purpose of our lunch already received it's answers, Lord Aelius." The Lord of Night laughed as your father joined him seconds later.
The two man stood a few feet away as they happened to witness prince Azriel's confession.
You buried your face in Azriel's neck while he was barely holding back his laughter himself. This was going to be one of the many embarrassing moments to tell you children one day but it was worth it,because on this day your life actually started, accompanied by the man you have loved ever since you were a little girl.
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draemgal · 4 months
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moon song | azriel
inspired by this prompt list.
azriel in his yearning and self-deprecating era
“she doesn’t love me, she isn’t that stupid.”
a cigarette hung loosely in his scarred fingers, ashes falling down on to the roof of which he sat on. the moonlight poured across his face, illuminating his brown eyes and reflecting off the darkness of his hair.
that’s what he was.
azriel was darkness. he was shadows, he was always lurking in the corner. his hands were bloodied with countless lives he took, bearing scars of trauma and the bags of his eyes held the consequences of torture.
cassian sat beside him, rhysand on his other side. the three brothers bore their wings towards the moon’s softness.
azriel’s eyes focused on the silhouette of you from the lawn, your dress flowing around you as you danced with morrigan. barefoot on the sweet greenery of the grass, softness emanating from your movements as you twirled morrigan around, melodic giggles flowing from the both of you.
“smitten kitten,” rhysand smirked, putting his cigarette out against the shingles. he wiggled his dark eyebrows and brushed azriel’s wings with his own teasingly.
cassian snorted and laid against the roof, folding his arms underneath his head for comfort. “that’s one way of putting it.”
despite his brother’s teasing, his gaze remained. he was so scared, so scared of loving you. of letting you love him, letting you see him.
loving you in silence was the easiest thing azriel had ever done. it was like flying, his body just knew how to do it. it was like he was made to love you. he had gotten accustomed to the weight of your footsteps down the hall, of the drumming of your fingers on the kitchen table during serious conversations, the rhythm from your bouncing knee against his.
if he could be anyone, he’d wish to be worthy of you. to be loved by you, to stand a chance with someone as kind and soft as you.
but that isn’t who he is. azriel is tortured, twisted, and riddled with scars.
blowing a line of smoke from his lips he frowned slightly and picked up his bottle, pressing it to his lips and welcoming the burn down his throat.
“have you told her?” rhysand asked, his violet eyes filled with cautious curiosity. he didn’t need to request access to azriel’s mind to read his thoughts in that moment.
“why would i? it’d just fuck her up.” azriel mumbled, chucking his cigarette butt off the side of the roof before bringing his legs closer to him. he picked at the skin around his cuticles in thought as he considered the aftermath of publicly loving you.
of ruining you with his tainted heart.
“she loves you too, azriel. it isn’t a secret.”
azriel shook his head before running his hands through his hair.
“she doesn’t love me. she isn’t that stupid.”
the two brothers remained silent as azriel looked at you again, your brightness stirring his heart to life before he forced it to stillness. until it pumped only blood; no emotion.
you could never love him if you found out who he truly was. azriel would never put the burden he carries around with him everyday on your shoulders, would never allow you to be aware of the ghosts that haunt him every second.
azriel loved you too much to subject you to his reality. so he kept it all bottled up and watched you dance, watched you smile.
azriel loved you from a distance, unaware that you too, watched him from the corner of your eye waiting for him to confirm what you already knew.
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mxtantrights · 1 month
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where you go, I go
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a/n: okay so while I'm writing this whole series for azriel just know that I had this other recurring dream about a plot like this. I couldn't really make it a fully fleshed out story with a happy ending so I decided to type it all out and make it a one-shot with angst and not a lot of comfort (this is your warning, this doesn't end happily) anyways with all of that said, if you decide to read this please enjoy and tell me what you think! <333 also happy valentines day <333
azriel x assassin!fem!reader
5.1k words
The day court was home to many things. Vibrant colors, warm waters, ancient books and of course the very ancient and magical day blade. It's your job to know where that this is at all times.
You can't possibly understand why the shadow singer would try to steal it. Try being the operative word here. While you did sense him enter your court and break into the room where the blade was, it wouldn't have mattered.
Seeing as it is your job to protect the blade at all costs, it never leaves your sight. But that didn't mean you couldn't have fun with those who wanted so badly to get it.
In your pocket you feel a piece of paper appearing suddenly. You reach inside and unfold it. It's Helion. He's requesting your presence. You smile to yourself, this would be fun.
You leave your hiding place, the palace had many hidden rooms and hallways, and walk over to Helion's day room. As you approach from the hallway you can hear multiple conversations being had.
The door is closed so you open it slightly.
"There she is! Come in and greet my guests!" he says happily.
You make sure you face is kept neutral. You had an image to upkeep in this court.
The people respect you and fear you in the same breath. You don't go around killing people but you do often get justice in ways that aren't in the parameters of the law. Whether that be stringing up robbers and looters from their pants, or burning down the houses of dirty criminals.
You keep your eyes straight, not looking any of his guests in the eye. You walk until you are standing behind Helion who sits in his usual seat.
"I was just telling Feyre that I enjoy the new company. This is the inner circle." he says to you.
You nod once.
"She doesn't talk?" Nesta asks.
You know all of them. It's your duty to know The Who's who of the courts. The inner circle of the night court. High Lord Rhysand and High Lady Feyre-Curse breaker. Her sisters Elaine and Nesta. Rhysand's brothers Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan, past fiancee of Eris Vanserra. Amren, a mythical creature of serious power.
Helion laughs at Nesta's question. He knows you talk. He knows you very well, seeing as he practically raised you. But that information isn't public knowledge.
"She does, but not when theres something wrong." Helion answers.
You look at all of them now. How the girl closest to the shadow singer, Elaine, looks worried. And it's quick, you almost don't catch it, but you're so good at your job at this point.
"Trouble in the day court?" Rhysand says.
You lean over and whisper into Helion's ear about the blade. How the shadow singer came here to steal it, on a mission from his high lord. How he thinks he got away with it.
The room goes quiet as you pull back and Helion sits back in his chair. He loves the dramatics you pull off every single time someone tries to take the blade. The last person you caught was really delighted to be drowned in glitter, confetti and manure.
"Is there something you're forgetting?" Helion asks.
Rhysand looks at his inner circle with an incredulous smile. Then he looks to you, no doubt trying to read your mind. You can't imagine this will go over well either.
You can't feel it. The daemati powers that certain fae have don't work on you. You're not really sure why. Might have something to do with your unknown lineage. Or your overall hardheadedness-so Helion says.
Rhysand cocks his head to the side at your unmoving posture. He's still looking at you. You however are taking in the shadow singer. He's sitting there, not bothering to look at anyone. He must really think he got the blade.
"What would that be?" Feyre asks this time.
"Well, when you want something that another has you usually ask." Helion says.
At that everyone at the table grows grim. Caught red handed is what it seems like. You still manage to hide you smile though.
"Helion..." Rhysand starts.
"If you were anyone else I would have you locked up already. But lucky for me my security system is top notch." Helion smiles and grabs his glass for another sip of what could only be wine.
At his words the shadow singer now looks at the high lord. Your high lord. His face bares no emotion, like he can't afford to give a way a secret or smile.
You've heard about his reputation. But at this point that's all it is. He couldn't even steal from you correctly. This has to be the most interesting thing that's happened this year. You don't get around to much outsider business, you tend to stay out of it.
"I don't think it is." the shadow singer says.
Helion stifles a laugh. But you can hear it. And you know if you can hear it they all can. The room is big but not big enough that guests at a table can't hear things.
"Care to relieve them of their misery?" he looks up to you and asks.
You didn't really want to. But then again you'd have to play nice with them. Helion seems to like this group. Or most likely, his son is friends with this group and he wants to be friends with his son.
You sigh, "Take out the blade."
You watch in amusement as everyone at the table looks at each other. As if they all don't know what they really came here for. The shadow singer though, he's different. He's looking right at you.
His shadows materialize the blade right on the table for everyone to see. Cassian, gives him a look. But Azriel doesn't seem to see it or care.
"That's not the blade." Helion quips.
You call the blade to you with your powers. Being gifted with the ability to control sun made objects is fun most of the time. Most living things are sun made in a sense. So really you could control all things, to a certain extent.
The blade comes flying into your hand. As soon as it makes contact with your skin it transforms. The metal of the blade turns into a vibrant green stem. And the helm turns into the face of a sunflower.
Azriel seems to go through a range of emotions. First confusion. Then understanding. And then the last one, well you can't actually pin down the last one. You've gotten good at reading people but he's harder than others.
"The blade is safe in the day court, where it will remain until you ask for it." Helion says.
Rhysand lets of a breath, "I am sorry about lying, but we're short on time."
"And I thought our alliance was stronger than that. I am sorry too." Helion replies.
Helion stands from his seat, causing the others to match his actions. The sound of chairs on marble floors reaches your ears. You take a step back and cross your hands behind your back.
"We need the blade for a mission." Feyre speaks.
"It could be a simple mission or the end of the world. The fact that you have no respect to ask me tells me everything I need to know." Helion says casually.
You know that he is hurt by their lying. It's not deep, but it's there. He thought he could trust them. He thought because they had good relations with him before that they were better than the actions they are displaying right now.
Of course you know of the good bond between them. Which is why you don't understand why they didn't just ask. Unless there is a well justified reason. Why not ask the high lord for the blade unless he was implicated somehow.
How could Helion be implicated in a mission from the night court. He doesn't know anything, or he would have offered them the blade himself. No this is something he's not at the center of. But it still concerns him.
Lucien. You look at the guests around the room. He is no where to be found. True he's not part of the inner circle. He's an emissary. But if it was something the inner circle could simply ask Helion for, why not butter him up with his son?
Lucien may or may not know what going on.
"Where's Lucien?" you ask.
At you question all of the heads move to you. Right, you hadn't spoken to them this whole time. Well you weren't going to give them a smile and greet them kindly.
"What business do you have with him?" Nesta asks.
"He's in Spring. Managing relations." Rhysand answers.
You nod your head. Spring. If that answer can even be trusted. Let's say you do trust it for the moment.
The inner circle needs the day blade. They didn't want to ask for it. They didn't let Lucien come.
"Were you planning on returning it?" you ask again.
Nesta, rolls her eyes at your question. You can't help the giddiness you feel of getting under her skin. You hardly did anything to warrant it. But it felt kind of good.
"As soon as we were done." Azriel answers this time.
You don't ignore the stress he puts not he word soon. You also don't ignore the way his eyes seem to never leave yours.
"That blade is our most powerful weapon. We don't just give it out to anyone." Helion chimes in.
He maneuvers around his chair and stands behind you. When he grips both of your shoulders with his hands, you can tell he's smiling even if you can't see him.
"But I will let you use it," Helion continues, "on one condition."
"Go ahead." Rhysand says.
"Wherever the blade goes, she goes." Helion says.
"That won't be necessary." Nesta says.
At the same time Cassian says, "That's odd."
Helion shrugs his shoulders and lets go of you. He leans into your ear to whisper his next words very carefully. When you understand him and what he wants, you nod your head only once.
He grabs the sunflower from your hands as you uncross them from behind you. Helion stands next to you now. You watch as Helion brings the flower up to his nose and gives it a sniff.
"We agree to those terms." Azriel speaks up.
"Woah hold on-" Rhysand tries to cut in.
"Great. I think this will be beneficial to both courts." your high lord agrees.
You turn to face him now, your back towards the guests. Helion was looking at you with a very faint smile. You heard every word he whispered to you. And you understand the reason why: Family.
What you don't get it is why he won't just speak to Lucien himself. Why play nice with a high lord that knows his son when he can just reach out to him? Invite him to the day court or send him a letter.
Everyone in this room knows Lucien is Helion's son, except Lucien. And now your mission is to tell him so that he might finally have a true place to call home.
Helion wouldn't so easily agree to lending out the blade like this if it weren't for Lucien. And the night court wouldn't try to steal it if Lucien did know, because he could just ask on their behalf.
Your shoulders sag at the thought. You had no interactions with Lucien. You only ever heard of him from Helion and he only started referring to him as his son a couple of months ago.
It'll be you. You'll be the one to see him, come eye to eye to him, and tell him the truth.
You can see it in his eyes. The sadness. You'd do anything for him. He's a father figure to you. And you'll see this through, for his sake and Lucien's too.
"Promise me you'll smile a little bit during your trip." Helion says.
"The Sun Wraith doesn't smile." you answer.
"You're the Sun Wraith?" Cassian's voice asks.
You turn around and face the general. It's all over his face. The look of shock. It wasn't hard to become something of a legend in this court and the ones surrounding it.
"Even people in the night court are scared of you." Nesta says.
On her face seems to be another emotion. Not fear. Not shock. Something lighter amongst the surface. Admiration maybe? You aren't too sure.
"I'll grab my things." you say to no one in particular.
"And the blade." Azriel's voice sounds.
"I never go anywhere without it." you say, reaching behind you.
Grabbing the flaps of your yellow vest you flip it over and your hand wraps around the hilt of the blade. You pull it out for all of them to see.
"Best security in all of the courts." Helion jokes.
-
THREE WEEKS LATER
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The mission has barely begun and you hate it here. You hate it in the night court. The days are shorter and you feel pale without even looking into a mirror most days. Nothing beats the sun of the day court on your skin.
Amren had told you it would get better. After your first meeting she had taken a liking to you. You were told by several members in the inner court that it was no easy feat. She talked to you the most out of everyone.
Second to her, came Nesta who was just curious about the things you allegedly did or did not do. You held off on telling her anything too juicy. It was funny toying with her with the details. She also likes your fighting style. Morrigan too.
Azriel talks to you. Sometimes. He's friendly to a point. Cassian is more friendlier than him but you're starting to understand it's just in his nature. Feyre and Rhysand are cordial. Elaine is, well you've been told that she's nice but you haven't really seen it. She greets you but that's it.
The inner circle didn't get on your nerves. But you also had your own mission. Deliver the news to Lucien that Beron isn't his father, Helion is.
Which is why though this whirlwind of a mission you're laying down on path of grass outside of the House of Wind. Weird. What was even weirder was the fact that Velaris, a secret city inside of the night court, has existed for so long with no one none the wiser.
You squeeze your eyes shut. Trying to turn your brain off. It wasn't working. The sun wasn't the same, it does't feel the same. You can't call off this mission either.
"Is this what you do in the day court?"
You'd know that voice anywhere. Which is weird to say as you've known the male for a couple of weeks now. But it's true. Azriel's voice was distinguishable from others. A bit low, but still soft. Clear.
"Yes." you answer.
"Is that all the explanation you can give me?"
"Yes."
You think he'll go away. He plays nice because you have the blade. He needs the blade, which means he needs you. Once he no loner needs the blade he won't need you.
When you hear the sound of him getting closer you want so badly to open your eyes. But you don't. You keep them closed. As much as you want to open them and see what he's doing.
The sound of him laying down beside you on the grass is one you weren't expecting. Also the feeling of soft cold tendrils nipping at your arm.
"It feels...nice. A bit cold." he speaks.
Of course he'd complain about he cold. Nesta had told you that Illyrians were whiny babies. You'd seen it personally when Cassian couldn't get a certain dish because there were no more potatoes for the day.
And now here his brother is. Complaining.
You hold up your left hand, the one close to him.
"Give me your hand." you command.
You half expect him to decline. To maybe even get up and leave. Or maybe say that he doesn't mind the cold. The other half of you expects him to just listen you-to see where it goes.
He takes your hand. You focus on letting the additional warmth you normally feel from the sun flow from your hand and into his.
Out of all the things you half expect and do expect, his laugh is something you don't plan for. It's deep. It comes from his core. It's gentle too. Which you wouldn't get just from looking at him.
"It's warm." he says.
"That's how the sun feels in the day court." you answer.
"I think you just spoke more than three words to me."
You scoff, "Don't get used to it."
"That was four words."
"Shut up."
"Two. We're regressing."
"Azriel."
"I'll be quiet now."
This is how you spend your time. If you are not training with Morrigan, Amren and Nesta. Or not eating with Cassian in the kitchen. You are laying out on the grass with Azriel in the sun.
It happens more times than you care to admit as the mission goes on.
-
ONE MONTH LATER
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This place, Velaris, was starting to grow on you. You didn't want to admit that out loud, or in your letters to Helion. Or how well you were gettign on with Azriel. The trips into the city, the lingering glances and words with hidden layers.
You letters should only have on subject, Lucien.
He has been back from the spring court for two weeks now. You've taken that time to get to know him. You couldn't fathom unleashing the truth on him as a stranger. You don't need to be his friend. But he needs to at least trust the words coming out of your mouth when you say them.
Family dinner they called it. Even though only three of them were related to each other. But you guess that what makes their family unique. They choose each other, every day.
This meal was special. Seeing as you had finished the mission that Helion sent you on to protect the blade. There was a fae that needed to be tracked down and would only come out of hiding if he could see the sun blade.
Of course you didn't let him, but you did convince him that the fake blade you passed onto him was the real thing. When he found it wasn't after he revealed his intentions with it he got angry.
Angry enough to rain hellfire down on both you and Azriel. If it weren't for your fast thinking and powers you both wouldn't have made it out in one piece.
Now you're sat with the inner circle to celebrate your feat.
Someone clears their throat. This drags your gaze from the redheaded male to the dark haired one. The both of them were sitting in front of you.
How the mother is cruel and precious at the same time. One male is your mission which you planned for. The other male you didn't plan for, and yet...
"Az was asking if you miss home." Morrigan says from your side.
"Dearly. But its not bad here." You speak, not quite realizing what you just did.
You watch as Azriel's smile grows and grows on is lips. It hits you then.
"Wipe that smile off your face before I take it back." you say to him.
"No I don't think I will." he jokes.
You shake your head with a light laugh. You can pick up on his laugh too from across the table.
"Well if it means anything, you fit in well here." Amren speaks up.
Everyone at the table quiets down at that. You look over at her, peering around Morrigan. You nod once at the sentiment.
"You need to tell him." Elaine says suddenly.
You look to her sharply. She's gotten better about speaking to you. More than a greeting but still less than a conversation. It does weird you out some times but you let it go for the most part.
"Oh?" you ask rhetorically.
"Elaine I don't think we should discuss this here." Feyre starts.
"He needs to know." Elaine says again.
It upsets you. She is his mate. She is the one connected to him. She has known this secret longer than you. But you'll be the one to tell him? She doesn't want to get her hands dirty. None of them do.
"What do I need to know?" Lucien asks all of a sudden.
You look to him. Hoping nothin is being given away by your face. When no one answers him he scoffs lightly to himself and looks around at the table.
This is happening now.
"It's obviously about me, none of you can look me in the eye except for her." Lucien continues.
"I can tell you, in private." you offer.
He nods his head and gets up from his seat. You follow his lead and get up too. The two of you walk out of the dining room and onto the balcony. You pull the door close behind you.
"Before you say anything, do they all know about this?" he asks.
He can't be asking about Elaine. She's the whole reason you're having this conversation right now. No, he's talking about Feyre. His friend. Or who he thought was his friend.
What can be left of a friendship after a lie like this?
"Yes." you answer simply.
Lucien shakes his head, "Okay, you can tell me now."
You take him in. The tense shoulders. The bowed head. His hair is perfectly combed behind his back. In this light, he looks like Helion. Not too much, but just enough.
How do you up end someone's life?
"Lucien do you ever think about what it felt like growing up with Beron as your father?" you ask.
Lucien looks at you sharply, "It was unspeakable. I wouldn't wish that life on anyone."
"And it shouldn't have been yours either." you reply.
His brows furrow. Right in the middle like they want to meet so badly. You wonder if he's felt like an outsider before. If he's ever felt it amongst his brothers. The black sheep.
"When my mission is over here, do you think you could come back with me to the day court?" you ask softly.
His face goes from confusion to somewhat understanding. But you haven't told him enough for him to completely get what you're saying, what you're asking of him.
"A couple of times Eris tried to make me visit the day court." Lucien admits.
You nod your head at that. Of course. Ever the perfect actor. You knew him for a little slice of time in your life. A period in which you won't ever forget. He was your first kiss. You were young and kids, trying to figure out your own way in life.
Kissing Eris, the treacherous fox of the autumn court, was every bit exciting at your age. You gossiped, and word got around. But he didn't deny it. For all the lies and manipulation he pulled you thought he might say you were delusional, that you had made it all up. But he backed you claim.
Eris knew Lucien wasn't Beron's son. Eris probably protected him as best he could. In his own, Eris way. Whatever that means.
"You can invite him too." you say.
Lucien looks past you. No doubt at the inner circle lingering inside. If you were in his position you wouldn't even go back in there. You'd never talk to any of them again.
"I'll take my leave now, but thank you. For being honest." he says.
You give him a small smile, "To be clear I was to tell you the news in a gentle manner. What just happened was out of my hands."
"I get it. I'll see you around." he says.
You bid him goodbye. Then he's walking past you. You hear the door open and how voices inside seem to call his name. You don't hear him respond to any of them. You hear the front door slam.
With a breath you turn around and head back inside too. When you do everyone is looking right at you. It unnerves you. You hate it.
"I've done your dirty work now. I think I'll call it a night." you speak.
"He didn't deserve to find out like that." Feyre says.
"You're right, he deserved honesty from his friends." you retort.
"You were sent here to tell him the truth. Am I wrong?" Rhysand asks.
You turn to face him clearly. You can't believe he just said that. You cannot believe he formed the words with his mouth to say that to you.
Without saying another word you walk right out of the dinning room. You ignore Nesta and Amren calling out to you. And you ignore the shadow that walks with you right out of the room and into he hallway.
As soon as you get inside of your guest room the shadow disappears.
SUNRISE, THE NEXT DAY
You're skip training and packing for home instead. You wish you could pack faster but that isn’t possible. You don’t want to be here for another second. Not in this court, not among the inner circle.
When you throw in your last few shirts into the luggage a knock raps on the door. You don’t know who it is, but if it is Rhysand or Elaine you won’t open the door.
“Who is it?” You ask.
“It's me, can you open up?”
You go over to the door and open it. Standing there on the threshold is Azriel.
“I’ll be leaving soon.” You say.
His eyes seem to widen at that. You watch as he peers over you and takes in the bareness of the room, and the packed luggage. He straightens himself out.
“Why so soon? It feels like you just got here.” He replies. 
Based on his words alone he doesn’t want you to leave. You can feel it too. How it’s only been a month or so but the two of you are comfortable around each other. 
You sigh, “The mission is over.”
“And we’re back to this? Four word sentences?” He asks.
“Azriel.”
He looks down both sides of the hallway. His head turning left then right. Then he’s turning back to you. He looks nervous. Antsy. He doesn’t normally look that way. He’s usually so composed. 
He takes you by surprise. He side steps into the room and closes the door behind him. At that you know your eyes go wide. He holds up his hands in defense.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for that but I just—are you mad at me?” He asks.
You scoff, “Yes I am.”
“Okay I knew that, but I was also confused because on that mission you saved my life.”
“Hardly.” You answer simply.
He groans at your one word answer, “You made sure those arrows didn’t plant themselves in my wings. You made sure I was safe.”
“It was nothing.” 
“No it was something.” 
You’re catching on now to how tense he is. Tense or nervous you can’t tell. His eyes are frantic. His breathing is also uneven. And his shadows are fully out on display now.
You do the one thing you can think of. You reach out for his hand. He doesn’t even seem to notice it. When you make contact he looks you in the eye. “Please calm down.” You whisper.
He bows his head, his hair covering his face now. All of a sudden he sinks to his knees. The action catches you completely off guard. 
“I’m sorry.” He says again.
You focus on sending him warmth from your hand. In a second you can see his shoulders begin to shake. From this angle you can’t tell just yet if it’s what you think it is. 
So you bring your free hand to the side of his face. You feel it. In the palm of your hand you feel his wet cheek. He’s crying. Azriel the shadow singer is crying, on his knees in front of you.
“I could have died and for the first time in a very long time I felt this deep regret in the bottom of my belly.” He chokes out.
What would he have to regret? 
Slowly you drag you hand down his cheek. You place your pointer finger under his chin. Titling his head up, you meet his eyes. From this close you hadn’t realize how many shades of brown they hold.
“Azriel, you’re okay. I promise you you’re okay.” You whisper.
He shuts his eyes, more tears flowing down his face now. 
“I don’t think I will be.” He admits.
“Why?” You ask.
He opens his eyes again. 
“Because you hate us now, you’ll never come back here.” He answers.
In a sense he was right. Not totally. You didn’t hate the inner circle. You just couldn’t stand what they did last night. How they acted, how none of them would fess up. Even though some of them had known Lucien for a long time.
But you didn’t hate them. You didn’t hate him.
“I don’t hate you.” You reply.
“I could see it on your face last night. And now, you’re leaving so quickly. You want nothing to do with us.” He adds on.
There’s silence between the two of you. The emotions Azriel is feeling right now feel heavy. Way too heavy for someone he’s only spent about two months with. 
You had heard many rumors about him. But him being like this, wearing his heart on his sleeve like this? You don’t think you could have ever imagined it.
Remembering that he’s waiting for you to answer, you remember to speak.
“Yes I’m upset and I want to go home. But that doesn’t mean I never want to see you again. Azriel I really enjoyed my time with you.” You speak.
You don’t realize it but your hand is stroking his now. 
He gives you a look you can’t figure out, “Why does it feel like that time is over already? Like I’ll never see you again?” 
He reaches up and places your hand on his cheek again. You don’t emit the warmth from there but he nuzzles into your hand like you are. His thumb rubs back and forth on the back of your hand there.
“You talk like everything is set in stone. Like there is only one path.” You say.
“I can just, sense it.” He explains barely.
You shake you head, “Azriel I was always going to leave.”
“Not like this. Last night changed everything.” He says, but it comes out more like a whisper.
“Get up.” 
He looks at you, a bit of shock. You watch as he follows your command and gets back on his feet. He keeps your hand pressed to his face the whole time. Your other hand falls to your side.
“You can come visit me.” You say.
He’s silent. Silent but he nods his head at your words. You’re not sure if he believes you fully. But it’s enough. He wipes the tears from his face. His wings perk up, off the floor now.
You wrap your arms around his body before you can think against it. Instantly you feel his arms around you. Pulling you closer. He rests his head on top of yours. It feels right. It feels natural. No, it feels like something else too.
It feels the exact same way the sunlight in the day court feels on your skin. Like it is meant to be.
part two here!
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illyrianbitch · 2 months
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Death and His Reaper
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Pairing: Reader x Azriel
Summary: After suffering a devastating injury in battle, Azriel finds himself on the brink of life and death where he meets you, The Mother's reaper.
Warnings: angsty fluff?, brief mentions of battle and injury, lil convos about life and its meaning, Azriel without his shadows, lowk love at first sight
Word Count: 13k (yall just get used to these long ass one shots im so sorry)
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
 Azriel could feel the hot, metallic taste of blood filling his mouth, the sharp sting of pain shooting through his body with each ragged breath. A pounding, almost unbearable, pain in his head consumed him, a relentless throb that pulsed with every beat of his heart– each pulse sending waves of nausea washing over him. He tried to move, to shift away from the agony, but his limbs felt like stone, heavy and unresponsive. His muscles screamed in protest with every attempt to shift position, every movement met with waves of agony that radiated through his battered form.
Dark spots filled his vision as the ringing in his ears grew louder. Everything was fuzzy, hazy, blurs of movement and moving color. Azriel could hear sounds around him. Loud sounds, piercing sounds. Distantly, he could make out what he assumed were screams. He wasn’t sure though, and wasn't able to think about it too hard. His shadows were whispering to him, louder and louder, but he couldn’t hear them. The sound rattled in his brain as he blinked. Once. Twice. His vision became more unfocussed.
With a final, shuddering breath, the world dissolved into darkness. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
There was a humming in his ear when Azriel came to, a light vibration he wasn’t familiar with. The ache in his body grew duller with every blink— his eyelids still heavy with pain, or exhaustion, he wasn’t quite sure. One of the same, he guessed. He let a moment pass, taking deep breaths as he oriented himself. He laid in a bed, soft white sheets placed upon him gingerly. Had Feyre tucked him in? He thought for a moment. Why would Feyre tuck him in? 
Another moment passed. Azriel became aware of his clothing, his body still strapped in his illyrian leathers— leathers that were eerily clean. No smudges, no stains. Pushing himself upright, Azriel glanced around the room, his movements slow and unsteady. There was no one else in sight, no familiar faces to provide him with answers. He frowned, his brows knitting together in a puzzled expression. With a hesitant sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, his muscles protesting at the sudden movement. He wavered for a moment, grasping for balance, before taking a cautious step forward. 
He casted a casual glance towards the bed, rubbing his hands across his face in exhaustion as made a move towards the door, his thoughts scattered and disjointed. But then he stilled, his head quickly snapping back. Instead of an empty bed, Azriel's gaze fell upon his own body, lying prone and unmoving— paled, almost colorless, wings hanging limply at his sides. He blinked, a flicker of confusion and fear knitting his brows as he registered the scene before him. 
“Quite strange, isn’t it?”
Azriel whipped his head around, his hand instinctively reaching for a dagger at his hip that he failed to find. His wings flared out angrily, fully extended with curled ends, each single claw at the apex poised and ready to strike. His eyes were wide as they focused on you. 
You let out a quiet laugh, a gentle sound that caressed him like a comforting hand. He felt himself falter, a sense of confusion washing over him. Yet, within that confusion was a warmth that spread through him at your presence, at your voice— soft, like a faint ray of sunlight breaking through a storm cloud.
He fought the sudden urge to stand down, an odd sense of safety wrapping around him, unnerving him with the ease in which it filled him. He struggled back, pushing the feeling away. Stay guarded, stay ready, you are a threat. Yet even in his attempts, he recognized a slight release in the tension surrounding his shoulders, a small release in the stance of his wings– decisions he hadn’t consciously made. With his eyes still trained on you, his hand searched the side of his thigh, his hip, the backside of his waistband. He patted frantically, fingers itching to find a form of protection. When his search came up empty once more, he settled for holding his other hand out towards you in warning, his palm facing you as his body fell into a defensive stance. The blue siphon on his hand glowed aggressively. 
The corners of your mouth tilted into a small smile.  “You do that everytime.”
Azriel didn’t return the gesture. Instead, he narrowed his eyes as he properly took you in. He scanned your body; the way you stood comfortably in front of him, your hands clasped together, placed delicately in front of your waist. It almost hurt to look at you, he observed. He had to squint to make out your features. And when he did, he was hit with one thought: you were beautiful. 
He cursed himself for recognizing it, for letting the thought echo in his head. You were a threat, he reminded himself, a stranger in his home. He was confused, disoriented, and yet you stood in front of him, presence dripping in a calm ease. You stared at him with a look he couldn’t discern, not when his mind was a muddled, confused, blurry mess. But the way you were looking, so expectant, so patient– it made him slightly nauseated. 
 “Who are you?” Azriel’s voice was loud and rough. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, a twitch in his wings, still extended wide. “What the hell are you talking about?”  
Azriel scrambled for words, his head aching as he searched it for answers, for explanations. His confusion exposed him in a way that made him feel naked— at risk.  None of it was right, not him standing over his own body, not him conversing with, what might possibly be, the most gorgeous female he’d ever seen, not the empty room around him. Was he dreaming? Was he being tortured?
You slowly lifted your hands in defense, remaining careful of how fast your movements were. “I’m not here to cause you any harm.”
A skeptical expression crossed his face. “Then why are you here?” He eyed you intently, his gaze scanning you as if sizing up a potential threat. His outstretched hand stayed unmoving, still on the defense. But you recognized a subtle shift in his posture, a slight calm flickering in his moving eyes.
Azriel was always the more difficult of the three to soothe. You had noticed this the last time, his wings shredded with ash arrows, his blood coating the floors beneath him. Even then, even through the exhaustion that bled into his unconscious mind– into his soul– he had fought you, acknowledged you with apprehension and distrust. You never blamed him, though. You understood. You would be fearful, confused, and defensive, too. 
“I’m here to help you.” 
Your voice was lower now than it was before. A soft murmur. He recognized the cadence, the words. It felt like a voice he’d heard before but couldn’t quite place. 
"Who are you?" Azriel demanded as he frantically looked between his own body and you. He felt a sense of fear he wasn't accustomed to, a worry that either body would vanish were he to take his eyes away for too long. "What the hell is going on?"
You took a step forward as he turned to look upon his body, reaching an arm out to touch him, to begin to explain, when his head swiftly turned back to you. Azriel recoiled, taking a step away from you, his eyes scanning you again— wide and wild. There was a rustle as his wings mirrored his actions, still extended aggressively, unmoving. You quickly stilled, realizing your mistake of initiating contact too soon. Your brows furrowed as you gave him an apologetic smile. You took a step back, settling to stand a bit further from him than you were before. 
Hazel eyes watched your every movement, his body tense as you fixed yourself into place, standing in front of him with the small smile still on your face– it reeked of pity, he thought. It didn’t feel right. No matter where he was, or who you were, he wasn’t supposed to be this off guard, this jumpy. 
His face fell as the realization hit him: he couldn't feel them. His companions, his protectors, his shadows– there were no whisperings in his ear, no cool trail as they snaked around his body. He hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by you, by his lifeless form. The absence of his shadows explained this sudden vulnerability– he was receiving no information on you. No intel about who you were, what weapons you may have, who was around to witness. As quick as the realization settled into his stomach, Azriel called out to them. He dropped one of his hands lower as if to make it easier for them to find him, to reach him, but nothing came. No cool touch on his body, no whispers. Instead, silence enveloped him as he took notice of motion around him, black wisps of smoke scattered throughout the room. 
You watched his movements, watched as he examined himself, as he craned his head to scan his body. "They can sense you," you explained, gesturing towards the shadows that seemed to be bouncing around, slithering on the ground like they were blind and confused. Some rested on his unmoving body, some around his feet, but not quite on him. His wings began to retract and slump as Azriel’s face slightly fell, his mouth open and brows furrowed. 
He looked down, observing his hands tentatively. “Why aren’t they with me?” Azriel asked. His voice was slightly strained. He didn’t look up at you, his vision trained to his scarred hands, to the floor below him where shadows circled aimlessly. He felt an ache in his heart,  a longing to be covered again, to be with them, to be protected. He felt too naked, stripped of every layer that protected him— no shadows, no intel, bare before you.
“Your shadows are sentient,” you explained, “they don’t die with you.”
His head snapped up, hazel eyes meeting yours instantly, widened with disbelief. "Die?" he repeated, his eyes scanning yours. "What do you mean die?"
In a slight moment of shock, Azriel took an unconscious step forward. His body tensed, and you watched as the rest of his frame followed suit, the muscles in his jaw clenching. There was an evident unease in his face, tension etched into his features.
You maintained a stillness, a deliberate choice not to intrude further, to remain respectful of his boundaries. Your gaze held a mixture of understanding and patience, offering him a moment to process the information without feeling overwhelmed. Then, you softly asked, “Where do you think you are, Azriel?”
His name sounded foreign on your tongue but he didn’t have the space to acknowledge it, instead rummaging through his other thoughts. He blinked, taking in your question.  A dull ache in his head creeped up on him, but your voice soothed it instantly— soft, comforting. 
"I... I don't know," he stammered, voice low and quiet, void of any assertion it held moments prior. His eyes darted back and forth, attempting to piece together fragments of memory. His wings now mirrored his defeated state–  limp and listless, curled in, the membrane hanging dejectedly.
Sensing his growing distress, you adjusted your approach. "What is the last thing you remember?" 
Your voice, smooth like honey and warm like tea, flowed through him. For a moment, he allowed it to sit, allowed it to spread, letting it calm him in a way that he was fighting before.  
"I…" Azriel muttered to himself. Slowly, fragments of memory began to resurface, faint but discernible. He looked back at his body, examining it as if trying to find the missing pieces, memories popping up like distant echoes, flashing in the corners of his brain. The ache was back, slowly spreading throughout his head. “I was fighting.”
He looked back over his shoulder, twisting his body to peer at where his physical body lay in the bed, the colors of the room now registering with a strange clarity. Tandem disembodied flashbacks surged through his mind—flashes of fighting, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, and the cacophony of clashing weapons. Each image hit him like a sudden jolt, disjointed and chaotic.
In one fragment, he could almost feel the weight of a blade in his hand, the strain of muscles as he swung it in a frenzied dance. Another flash brought back the distant echoes of shouted commands, the clash of metal on metal, and the acrid scent of sweat and blood lingering in the air. The blurry memories continued, each scene disconnected yet vivid in its brutality. He shivered as the ghost of each sensation trailed his body, a twitch in his wings as he recalled the injuries they had sustained. 
Then, a searing pain in his head, a sharp and sudden ache that brought him to his knees in his mind's eye. The pain lingered in his skull like a phantom sensation, and with it, a realization began to form. His eyes met yours with a cold, distant understanding. A wave of sadness hit you. 
"I'm dead,” he stated, his voice quiet, “Aren't I?"
A sympathetic smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Not yet," you clarified, taking a step to move closer, the movement slow and deliberate. "You're in between."
"In between? In between where?"
You took a moment to look at him, your gaze lingering on his face. His eyes were darker now, troubled, as he stared back at you. “Your body,” You started, gesturing towards his sleeping form to guide his attention back to where it lay, “It's still fighting.”
Azriel nodded slowly, taking in each of your words, digesting them, letting them sit. There was a shift in his expression—a solemn understanding replacing the earlier confusion he once held. You continued. 
 "Madja, she's a brilliant healer. She has brought back many from this same brink."  
When Azriel looked back at you, you shifted your focus to his head, motioning with a gentle sweep of your hand, then directed your fingers towards your own temple. "And your mind," You said, "it's fighting too." 
Azriel frowned. He was a soldier. He sustained many injuries before, had fought in battles that left him with gaping wounds, with his organs rearranged. This was nothing new— so why was this different? Had he always been out this long? 
You watched him intently, observing the way his thoughts seemed to churn beneath the surface, how he began to blink rapidly, how his brow furrowed. He was still confused– you could feel it. You let out a small sigh, running your eyes across his face. 
"The injury you sustained was worse than any you've ever had," you explained, your voice steady. Flashes of his memories interjected—him fighting, soaring into the air only to be shot down, engaging in combat once again, his head colliding with something hard, the sickening sound of a crunch. "Not only to your body but to your head. You cracked your skull open completely, Azriel. The trauma of the infliction itself… well, let's say it damaged your brain. Heavily."
As Azriel looked directly at you, his hazel eyes glazed over with deep contemplation. He nodded absentmindedly, "Okay.” He said. He looked over to his unmoving form again. 
With his attention fixated on his proper body, you took the time to observe him more closely, scanning his face and his body, taking in the details of his fighting leathers. Azriel was a vision— your favorite male to visit, your favorite soul to see. You can’t remember the first time you saw him, the first time he laid on a bed, a grasp away from death. You suppose it was centuries ago, when he first became a soldier. But even then, time escaped you. 
Your gaze wandered to the wings adorning his back, now freed from their earlier alarmed nature, not fully extended but not fully kept back. You thought back to their wide and impressive extended form, the membrane between each robust wing bearing a faint sheen, casting a subtle shimmer in the ambient light. Even now they were mesmerizing–  the leathery texture, the powerful structure, the way they naturally framed his form. The tips of the expansive wings curved slightly, giving Azriel an imposing yet graceful appearance, even among current circumstances. Azriel's voice brought you back to attention. 
"So I'm stuck here?" 
"For now."  You responded, your voice carrying a gentle reassurance. The look on his face, only beginning to finally process his reality, pushed you to postpone any further explanations. Time was not an issue, not now. 
"And you are..." Azriel's voice trailed off.
"Y/n," you answered. 
He let the name sink in, repeating it with a slow, deliberate pace, "Y/n." 
“Yes.” You nodded.
“And you’re here to help me.”
Another nod. “Yes.”
He rolled his shoulders as something that resembled a skeptical scowl slowly made its way through his face. Then, Azriel squinted his eyes at you.  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
You couldn't help it—a small laugh escaped you, echoing softly in the room. The sound made Azriel jolt back slightly, caught off guard. Dying it down with a small, genuine smile on your face, you caught Azriel’s uncomfortable gaze, his wings now extended slightly, the corners of his lips downturned in confusion.
"I’m- I’m sorry,” You said, clearing your throat. “It's just... you are curious this time around.” 
Azriel's hazel eyes widened in shock, his brows furrowing in confusion. "This– this time around?” His eyes rapidly scanned your face with a deep intensity. Faintly, he recalled your earlier comment, the laugh when you said that he reacted the same way every time. “Have we met before?"
You offered him a small smile as you said, "Many times.”
Azriel let out a deep breath. Here he stood, suspended between life and something else entirely, facing someone who knew him in a way that he couldn’t even remember. A sense of anxiety filled his chest. He wished for his shadows now, for them to wrap themselves around his arms, around his neck, to offer some calm. He searched you for any sign of deception, looked at the way your eyes followed him, the stance that you held. But all he found was a sense of sincerity and tenderness. 
“Your family tends to face death a lot more than others in Prythian,” you explained, “You and your brothers especially." 
At the mention of his brothers, Azriel's heart dropped, a heaviness settling in his chest. Thoughts of his family rushed in—wondering who had found him, the worry that surely gripped them. He straightened up, a sense of urgency urging him to survey his surroundings. His family… His gaze moved beyond you, taking in the details of the room. It was his guest suite in the River House, the room he’d stay in when he came to visit Rhysand and Feyre, the room they would drag him into when he needed to rest or heal. It was his room. Yet, there were no sounds of people, no familiar voices—just the quiet emptiness that surrounded him, surrounded you both. Surely they would be near him, Azriel thought, Madja at the least.
"Where is everyone?" He asked, still scanning the room. He walked towards the large windows, taking in the nighttime view, gorgeous and still— mountains covered in snow, a city lit by moonlight. 
“Here, it's just you," you said gently.
Azriel turned to face you once more, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. He didn’t ask for any further explanation, a sense of exhaustion heavily weighing on him. His eyes bore into yours. "And you. You exist here too.” 
“I do.”
He took a step towards you, wings rustling in their position behind his back. Azriel scanned your face, hazel eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and weariness. He wasn’t afraid of you, didn’t believe you were a threat– not anymore, at least. But you were still here, in this state of existence that only he was in. 
“Why?”
The question was pure curiosity, not a hint of distrust or malice within it. You observed him, noting how he seemed to have settled, the tension in his frame easing. Instead, a subtle sadness lingered, a reflection of longing. Azriel loved his family, this much you knew. He was a devoted male, devoted to serving those he loved, devoted to his position, to his duties. Of course he was missing his family. Your heart ached. 
"I'm here to help," you assured, "I’m to stay while you heal, or until–"
“Until I stop…” Azriel finished the sentence, a quiet acceptance in his voice. "And then you guide me."
You were taken aback as Azriel's hazel eyes locked onto yours, a moment of realization passing between you. Usually, it was you who revealed your purpose to those you reaped, explaining the meaning of your duties, easing their worries. You blinked, your head tilting back slightly as you clasped your hands together. Azriel continued, stating with a quiet certainty, "You're a reaper."
You nodded, titling your head as you took in his face, his brows slightly knitted. “I am.” 
You weren’t supposed to be doing this. In situations like these, where they were stuck between the life before and the life after, you were to leave them in peace– wait until they decided or their body decided for them. It was never intended for you to stay with them during the waiting period, to keep them company. No, this was something you felt inclined to do. You couldn’t leave Azriel if you wanted to, it felt wrong— and you didn’t want to. Not one bit. 
"You weren't what I expected," Azriel admitted.
Azriel had a faint idea of your kind, of your duties. He heard accounts of near-death experiences, tales of encountering a radiant light, foggy memories and beliefs of meeting a beautiful entity—whatever that meant. He always wrote them off as distant narratives, existing in the realms of folklore and imagination. He would have never imagined something like you – something so… delicate. 
Curiosity lingered in your gaze as you asked, "What did you expect?" 
"I don't know," Azriel replied honestly, his head beginning to throb and ache again. A hand instinctively rose to the back of his scalp, fingers rubbing at the tension that surfaced. The ache radiated through his skull as he massaged his hairline. You recognized the discomfort with a small frown, playing with your hands as you observed him for a moment. 
 "Azriel,” You spoke, drawing his attention back to you, “I'm going to give you some time to process everything. Explore, think. When you're ready, and if you want to, you can find me then."
Azriel looked at you, uncertainty drawn across his features. "How will I know where you are?”
"You’ll know.” A soft smile played on your lips as you reassured him. “Trust me.”
As you left, Azriel took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the quiet expanse embrace him.  
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
You were right. Azriel knew exactly where to find you. How we knew, he didn’t know. He wasn’t even aware of how he got to you, how he managed to move. One moment he was wandering, taking in the quiet halls of the house, the next he was thinking of you, seeking you out— and then he was here, watching you. 
It was dark out still, a fresh night breeze in the air. Azriel stood for a moment, taking in his surroundings—a small clearing nestled between two towering mountains covered in snow. The landscape was rugged, the terrain too harsh to be in the vicinity of Velaris. Somewhere beyond the borders of Illyria, he concluded. He turned his focus back to you. Draped in a simple cream-colored dress, you stood at the edge of the clearing, your silhouette softly illuminated by the glow of the full moon that hung in the sky. The moonlight painted the terrain around you with a soft, silvery hue, casting long shadows that danced across the uneven ground. 
“Hi, Azriel.” The words left your mouth before you turned your head to look at him. When your eyes met his, you gave him a smile. He faltered for a moment.
“Hello… Y/n.” He said your name quietly, adding it onto his greeting tentatively, as if he was testing how it felt on his tongue. He liked it, he decided. It tasted sweet. 
You turned your head back to the view in front of you, and Azriel took it as an unspoken invitation. Slowly, he found himself walking towards you, the snow crunching beneath his boots. You both stood in silence, and Azriel found a sense of calm rolling through him. Taking a deep breath, he let his wings unfurl slightly, not having noticed the tension they had been carrying, tucked tightly behind him.
Azriel turned to gaze at you. You stood still, eyes trained forward on the view before you. Your focus prompted him to take in the sight once more, bringing his attention back to the vast expanse ahead.
"Where are we?" he asked, his voice low and steady.
It was now your turn to look at him, to observe the side of his face as he looked forward. The faint glow of the moonlight casted shadows on the contours of his face. He looked almost holy, something devout and ethereal. "You don’t recognize it?”
Your question led to a contemplative frown creasing his brow and he turned his head, taking in the soft smile on your face. “Should I?”
You turned your body fully to face him, craning your head to look up at him. There was a subtle shift in his expression as your eyes met. You nodded toward the view, a gentle encouragement.
“Look again.” 
And he did. 
Then, his gaze softened, a hint of recognition flickering in his eyes. Azriel's shoulders fell, a subtle release of tension, and his wings shuddered softly. "I used to come here," he said quietly, "A long time ago… I used to come here."
His eyes shifted between you and the view. You met his gaze, nodding in silent understanding, leaving a space of silence that invited him to continue talking if he desired to— if he was comfortable. 
"I found it flying one night," he continued. His memories now seemed to dance in his mind, distant yet vivid, a time before Amarantha, before Koshei. A faint smile ghosted his lips. “I'd find time between missions to come here and just breathe. Now I could never validate wasting time to be here, doing nothing."
You let out a small hum. “Taking time to breathe is never a waste.”
Azriel turned to look at you. "How did you..." 
"Know about this?" you finished for him. He nodded.
You smiled, the expression warm and animated. Holding your arms in front, one hand cradling each elbow, you continued, "I could feel it. Part of our duty," your voice carried a gentle honesty. "The Mother helps us to find your peace."
Azriel's gaze scanned you again, a subtle curiosity in his eyes. His attention shifted to your arms, and then to the snow-covered surroundings. "Are you cold?" he asked, concern lacing his words. Instinctively, he placed a hand on your bicep, but quickly retracted it when he registered the movement. 
You kept your gaze locked with his, unfazed. "No," you replied calmly, and then added, "Neither are you."
Azriel blinked, and then he looked down at himself, his eyes scanning his own body, his arms. He wasn’t cold. He thought back to every time he had visited this place, this lookout. Being so high up made the air nippy, made the breeze cold–  he always wore an extra layer.  But here he stood, alongside you, and all he could feel was a sense of warmth. Interesting. It was all so interesting to him. 
Azriel nodded to himself, turning to face forward again. He traced the tops of the snow-covered mountains, the valley below. You remained sideways for a moment, watching him as he processed the image before him. Another moment passed and then you, too, turned to face forward, mirroring his contemplative posture. 
“So, what does it all mean?” He asked, his voice a low murmur. 
You stilled, rubbing your lips together as you took in his question. You glanced to the side, his eyes still trained before him. It wasn’t the view he was talking about, you knew this. He was asking the question many before him had, wondering about the purpose of life, the answer to their troubles. You thought for a moment, pondering on what to tell him. There were no right responses here— at least, none that you thought would satisfy him. So, you answered from your heart.
“Does it have to mean something?”
Azriel’s head turned to you. “Yes,” He said, all too fast. It had to mean something. His entire existence, his suffering, every life he had taken— it had to mean something. He needed it to mean something. The agony he had lived with, the anger he wore as second skin, it was all for something… for some reason. He needed it to be. So he continued, “It has to.”
You studied him, watching the subtle shifts in his demeanor, the weight of his gaze lingering on you— there was something in his eyes, a sense of desperation, of fear. You took a deep breath, and then you offered an understanding smile.
“Then it means whatever you need it to mean.”
Azriel frowned.
“That isn’t an answer.”
You tilted your head slightly, looking at him for a moment before you responded. “Well,” You said, "Perhaps you asked the wrong question.”
“What do you mean?” His brows knitted together, forming a furrowed line of confusion on his forehead. Faintly, in the back of his head, an ache gnawed at him. 
Facing each other now, you maintained eye contact as he looked at you intently.  “Ask me what you really want to, Azriel.”
”I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There was a tinge of frustration in his voice, delicately mixed into the confusion that laced it. 
You simply shrugged, giving him a close-mouthed smile. “You will.”
In normal circumstances, your elusive answers would have driven him crazy—  he would be suspicious of you, find a sense of guilt in your failure to give proper, concrete responses. But he wasn’t in a normal circumstance, and you weren’t a threat. These were two things he knew, now, for sure. So he took your answers, as ambiguous as they were, and let them sit with him in the comfortable, cool, silence. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Azriel found you again by the Sidra, walking along the cobblestone streets of Velaris. It was the same again, him being able to find you without so much as a second guess. It was daytime now, he noticed. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm glow onto the city streets, filling his body with a comfortable, familiar, warmth. A few steps ahead of him, you stilled, turning around gracefully to face him. 
“Hello Azriel.” 
He stopped, making a motion to look around as if he were to find someone else, another person you might be referring to. Quickly he remembered that it was just you and him in this plane, in this form of his existence. He cleared his throat.
“Y/n,” He greeted, with a small nod of his head. 
He walked towards you, stopping into place in front of you, a few feet ahead. The sunlight hit your back, creating a soft, radiant glow around your silhouette– it outlined your figure, forming a subtle halo around your head that seemed to blend with the warmth of the sun. It almost looked as if the sunlight itself was embracing you, framing your presence with a touch of radiance. Azriel took a moment to admire it. 
He realized seconds later that he’d stared for too long, that you were now gazing up at him expectantly, eyes scanning his face. 
Azriel wasn’t much of a talker, not around strangers, and sometimes not even his own family. It was never that he didn’t have things to say— quite the opposite, really. Az thought about everything, and he thought about it all very deeply. He had too much to say, too much that he’d observed. But now, in front of you, his mind was drawing blanks. He thought back to how, not long ago, you both stood on a snowy mountain, looking into the comfortable darkness of the night. How time worked here, with you, he didn’t know. It didn’t bother him, however, not like it did when he first woke up. In fact, he had begun to enjoy it. To enjoy how free it was, how there were no rules, no expectations, no missions. 
Azriel paused, his thoughts swirling, and then, almost as if caught off guard by his own words, he blurted out, "I would like to show you something." 
You blinked in surprise, your mouth parting slightly as your heart seemed to skip a beat, carefully falling back into a rhythmic melody. A smile spread across your features– a broad, teeth-revealing smile. The corners of Azriel’s lips turned up in response. If you didn’t know any better, you would have described the smile as almost awkward in its delivery. Though modest, it still held a certain beauty as it graced his face. The lines that had once etched across his features seemed to smooth out, replaced by silent calm evident in the softening of his gaze, the subtle curve of that smile. Your own smile settled into a close-lipped one, and you gently pulled your bottom lip with your teeth before nodding your head.  
“Lead the way, Azriel," you said, and he began walking, but not without a quick glance back at you, ensuring you were following his lead. As you walked beside him at a comfortable pace, his wings fanned out comfortably. Their immense size allowed them to extend behind you, and even though you walked at his pace, you could feel their presence above you.
The streets of Velaris unfolded before you as you walked alongside Azriel. You took it all in– the beauty of the city, its intricate architecture and vibrant atmosphere. It was always a pleasure to experience it, to breathe in its life. Even amidst the circumstances that brought you here, there was a sense of appreciation for the privilege of experiencing such a place. A sense of jealousy welled up within you. Envy for those who could lead a normal life here— those who could wake up, take a walk by the Sidra, greet their friends in the morning light. It all seemed so mundane, so easy. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to give it the air to breathe, the space to fester. You looked towards Azriel.
“Where are we going?” You asked, as you both rounded a corner into a small alleyway. The space was narrow, causing you to fall into line behind him, your vision focusing on his wings. They were beautiful before, in the nighttime glow, but seeing them in such close proximity, with the sun casting through their membranes, it was a different experience. Such beautiful, beautiful things, you thought. You ached to run your fingertips across them. 
He responded over his shoulder, "Aren't you supposed to know everything?"
You sensed a slight playful tone in his voice, letting out a small laugh at his question. 
"That's not how it works," you replied, "I'm not The Mother."
Azriel stopped for a moment, causing you to skitter to a stop as well. He looked back, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he uttered a simple "huh." 
You suddenly felt a vulnerability settling in, an awkward awareness of yourself and your proximity to him. Before it could fully take hold, Azriel resumed walking and you followed. The alleyway began to open up to a bigger road, allowing the space for you both to begin walking side by side once more. 
"Azriel,” You said, casting a glance up at him, “If you're leading me to some private area to kill me, I hate to tell you that it won't work."
He stopped, and then craned his head down to look at you. A nervous flutter danced in your chest as a sense of self-consciousness crept in. What a stupid joke to make, you thought. What if he believed you were making a crude reference to his duties as a spymaster– assuming the worst of him and his abilities?  Had you inadvertently touched on a sensitive subject in an attempt at humor? You weren't friends, you reminded yourself,  there was still an expectation of professionalism to uphold. Azriel looked at you for a moment. And then another.
And then, he laughed. The sound, small and amused, radiated through your chest. You awkwardly joined in, unsure if your joke had landed or if it was something else entirely.
"Why would I kill the one who will bring me peace?" he asked, his words delivered with a touch of sincerity. 
You let out a breath, taking in his face, the hazel of his eyes as he stared down at you. You smiled back at him, letting out another laugh, this time more certain and lighthearted. "Right, that would be foolish of you.”
You knew that Azriel was talking about your duties, about the job of a Reaper, not you specifically. But for a moment, you let yourself live in a fantasy, one where you weren't simply The Mother’s hand, where you didn’t only exist here, in a space where no one remembered you. 
Azriel beckoned you to walk into the bigger street. It was only a few more steps before you stopped, taking in the sight of a quaint shop before you, adorned with small tables and chairs, surrounded by hanging plants and flowers. The window boasted a delicately hand-painted logo: Fillings & Emulsions.
Azriel took notice of the silence surrounding you both, no hum of the usual Velaris life, no laughter, no murmured distant conversations. Yet, the shop still smelled like its usual self— a sweet, buttery aroma of delicate treats and pastries. Azriel breathed it in with a smile. He opened the door, a small jingle sounding above him where a tiny bell rang. He held it open for you to enter.
Your gaze swept across the interior, taking in the small tables and the glass display filled with pastries of various shapes and colors. Behind the counter, loaves of bread sat neatly on wooden shelves.
"I like coming here, when I have the time." 
Wandering around and exploring the cozy pastry shop, your gaze casually shifted towards Azriel, who remained by the doorway. "You're a dessert person?" you asked as you continued to meander through the charming space. 
“Sometimes,” Azriel replied, walking further into the store. He looked around, taking in the familiar environment, the comforting decor. “But they have these sour candies that I love. They come in this little gold box-”
“You mean these?”
Now behind the counter, you turned around to face him, a small delicate gold box in your hand. The plastic cover revealed 12 small square gummies nestled inside, each in their own white wrapper. You looked up at him for confirmation. Azriel met your eyes before his gaze traveled down to your hands.
“Yes,” he breathed, a small smile forming on his lips, “Those.”
You smiled at the response, slowly making your way back around the counter, a few feet away from where he stood. You surveyed the store, eyes bouncing to the different tables and mismatched chairs. “Where do you usually sit?” 
 “I, uh, I don’t.” Azriel cleared his throat. “I never have the time. And when I do, I usually just head home.” 
Azriel didn’t explain further, didn’t tell you his real reasons. It was true, he usually didn’t have time to sit and leisurely enjoy a box of candies. But when he did, he was often too afraid to stay in the store itself. 
Azriel knew he called attention, that his wings stuck out in stark contrast against the gentle streets of the city, the quiet hum of life. He’d conditioned himself to appear smaller when walking around, to avoid direct eye contact so as to not intimidate those he passed. But even then, his presence was offputting– he’d catch citizens avoiding him, creating more distance between them or switching to the opposite side of the street.  It was part of the job, he told himself. He was a large male, fully aware of how terrifying his stature could be, how frightening his own wings could be— especially when fully extended. Not even to mention his scarred hands, ones that he was sure fae could imagine easily drenched in the blood of his enemies. He wore gloves when he could. He wasn’t ashamed of them– his hands– not as much as before, but he was always acutely aware. Aware that they weren’t normal, that they drew attention, that for the comfort of others, he hid them away. 
He came to, his thoughts slowly dissipating as he registered his surroundings once more, his gaze landing on you. You looked at him with a small curiosity in your eyes.
“Well,” You said, taking a glance around, “Would you like to sit now?”
“I would.” He nodded, offering a small smile that carried a touch of timidity. It wasn't like before, no uncertainty or awkwardness, but rather a gentle expression that hinted at a reserved warmth. 
“Inside or outside?”
Azriel looked over his shoulder, towards the small door and the seating outside. 
“Outside,” he replied.
A hum of agreement escaped your lips as you gave him a smile, taking a step to the side in order to walk around him, leading the way. The gentle jingle of the little doorbell echoed delicately as you stepped outside.
 Azriel followed you, watching as you approached a small steel table. The white paint was chipped, flaking off at certain areas of the legs, but you didn’t seem to mind. The air felt crisp and clean, rays of sunshine peeking through alleyways and the tips of the stores that lined the street. Azriel took a moment to breathe it in, savoring the clarity that hung in the atmosphere, the silence. You pulled out your chair, the movement emitting a small screech as it slid against the cobblestones. Azriel walked to the table, standing opposite of you, and carefully took a seat. 
As you slowly opened the box, Azriel adjusted himself in the seat. It was small, the steel back stiff and straight, making it hard for him to sit comfortably with his wings. After a small struggle, he settled into a position sitting up right, wings draping across each side of the chair. The frustration melted away as he took in his surroundings once more. He felt a certain peace he’d never felt before. A lightness in his movements, in his touch. The fresh air kissed his skin, a soft breeze whispered into his ears, threading itself through his hair. 
“Is it always like this?” He asked. 
You pulled the lid off the box, casting a glance up at him. Azriel’s head was turned sideways, his gaze following the curve of the streets.
“Like what?”
He looked at you, catching your eye. His face held a graceful calmness, brows slightly furrowed, and the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly. With a soft, velvety tone, he replied, "This peaceful." 
Turning to the side, you quickly scanned over the streets, registering the simple beauty that surrounded you both. Turning back to him, a tender smile played on your lips.
“Yes,” you replied, “It is.”
Azriel's response was a simple silent contemplation. Leaning back with a subtle adjustment for comfort, his wings gently folded and his gaze fixed on the table. Azriel loved Velaris. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the peace of an empty city that graced him now. Sitting with you now, at a small table by the streets, was something he was never able to do— not truly, not to this extent. He held the feeling close. 
 "Which are your favorites?" 
Your voice pulled Azriel back to reality. He blinked, and then he looked at you. 
"The green ones.”
You picked up one of the green candies nestled in white wrapping and offered it to him. Your hands briefly touched as he gently accepted the candy from you. You felt the texture of his skin against yours, the small ridges formed by the scarred tissue that extended to his fingers. 
Azriel waited for it– the expected recoil from unintended contact, his body having been naturally accustomed to jump at the slightest of touches. However, this time, there was no involuntary withdrawal, no rush of icy embarrassment. 
He was always so careful of his touch with Elain, acutely aware of how his hands looked against her immaculate skin. Although he refused to admit it, it bothered him deeply, how obvious it made his differences appear. Yet, that caution wasn’t found now, in his movements with you. Instead, a sense of certainty filled him, a gentle nudge to his heart, a contentedness with himself and his presence. You were beautiful, graceful, kind– and he didn’t feel guilt when touching you, didn’t feel as if he were about to taint something too beautiful for his hands.
You observed him as he stared at his hands, now resting on the table, the candy still in between his fingers. With a small movement, you gently cupped the side of one of them with your palm. 
“Azriel,” You softly said, pulling his attention to you. “They didn’t feel this type of peace— didn’t feel peace at all, actually.”
Azriel stayed quiet, his gaze now trained on where your hand touched his. You pulled your hand back, and Azriel's gaze followed. Then, almost imperceptibly, the hazel of his eyes brightened. There was something about the way you spoke to him, about how kind your voice was. They didn’t feel peace. Your words rang in his head, a wave of relief passing through his body. It healed a part of him that he swore was broken, warmed his body like a summer's eve. He gave you a small smile. 
You worried for a moment that you had forced thoughts onto him, ones that harbored pain and loneliness. But you felt it in your gut, a need to tell him, to let him know that they had suffered the way they deserved— that his hands were solely a part of him, a body part, natural. And from his response, it seemed as if he understood what you were saying, and most importantly, that it resonated with him the way you wished it to. You returned your attention to the sour candies before you.
"Can I ask why you like these so much?"
Azriel looked at you, a close-mouthed smile forming. His eyes crinkled a bit, and then he explained, "My mother used to give me candies just like this when I was able to see her. I never figured out how she got them. She..." He trailed off, readjusting how he was sitting. His gaze met yours as he finished, "That's why."
You could sense the sadness now evident in his face, his wings rolling in closer to his body. You let out a small breath as a sudden pang of sympathy hit you. 
"Let's talk about something else," you suggested, subtly shifting the focus as you played with the edges of the candy box
Azriel leaned forward quickly, his hand reaching out to gently rest on yours before either of you had the chance to register the movement. "It's alright,” he said softly. “I'd like to talk about this. I don't talk about her much.”
Your gaze lingered on his hand touching yours, on the warmth that spread through your skin at the contact. Be professional, you reminded yourself. This is not real. 
With a genuine smile, you nodded, careful not to move a muscle, not wanting to disrupt the moment, to risk the chance of him retracting his hand.  "Then please, I'd love to hear.”
And so he did. Azriel spoke of his mother, of growing up admiring her long hair and the way she smelled of pine and snow. He realized that he had never talked so much about himself, never shared such intimate details about his life. He realized, too, that he quite liked it. He liked talking to you. He liked you. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Days and nights had passed, Azriel was sure of it, but he was never tired, never slept. Time worked so differently here– he wasn’t aware of it passing, wasn’t aware of what he’d done the day before or even hours prior. All he was aware of was the peace in his heart, how it radiated throughout his body, relieving him of centuries worth of tension. Amidst it all was you, a companion Azriel had grown to enjoy— to adore, if he was being honest with himself.
You were kind and patient, welcoming in a way that had him opening up to you, telling you stories that he’d never dared to share with anyone else. There was no fear of being vulnerable here, with you, no threat he had to worry about, no anxiety regarding a new enemy or an evil to defeat. It was all so easy. 
Azriel walked through the hallways of the House of Wind, taking in the familiar sense of home that filled it, the beauty of the sun-warmed stone. He found himself outside of his own room, staring in at the space. It was strange to think that his body, his real body, lay in another bedroom, in another home— in a form of existence that he no longer held. It was all so very strange. But he didn’t mind, not anymore.
He felt you before he heard you, a gentle breeze fanning over him, a smell of sweetness filling his nose. He turned to face you, taking in your presence, the cream dress that adorned your figure. It was there again, the subtle halo around your head, framed by faint rays of sunlight. 
“Hello, Azriel.” You greeted with a large smile. He mirrored the gesture almost instantly. 
“Hello, y/n.” 
You took a few steps forward, craning your head to peer into the room behind him, past the doorway he stood under. 
“Is this your room?” 
“Yes,” He said, taking a step aside to allow for you to pass him as you entered. “One of many. My family, they have many places to call home.”
“Do you miss them?” You asked, casting a glance over your shoulder as you moved around his room, “Your family, I mean.”
Azriel stilled for a moment. He hadn’t thought of them as much as he would have expected, a part of him felt guilty for not being as heartbroken. He did miss his family– he was worried about them, about how they were doing, if his help was needed. But he didn’t feel a rush to return to his life, no nauseating need to fix his current situation, to be healed and awake. 
“Yes.” He replied. He watched as you walked around, carefully taking in your surroundings. His room wasn’t very interesting— simple decorations that had already been placed before he took residence, various random books. 
“Where do you disappear to?” Azriel asked. 
You turned to look at him, taking him in for the first time since you entered. It was still there, you noticed, the sense of calm on his face, the evidence of a serene ease. His eyes held a lightness that you’d seen grow since he first came to you. His shoulders were relaxed, his wings comfortably fanned out behind him in an open and unhurried sprawl.
To do your job, you thought. The duties of a Reaper. Visiting souls in distress, leading them to their peace swiftly– efficiently. Not staying with them, not keeping them company. No, those were things you’d reserved for Azriel. You only hoped that The Mother wasn’t angry, that your affinity for him didn’t disrupt a delicate balance. 
“As much as I enjoy our time together, I still have duties to fulfill,” You replied. “Did you miss me?”
You intended for it to be a joke, a lighthearted comment that would make him laugh– a melodic sound you had gotten used to recently, one that you savored and replayed in your mind. Yet Azriel’s eyes met yours with a serious gaze. 
“Yes,” He answered, his voice sincere. “I did.”
Something in your chest fluttered and your mouth parted, a pleasant shiver rolling through your body. There was a small heat that rose to your cheeks. For a moment, you looked at the floor, composing yourself before meeting his gaze again. A genuine smile graced your lips as you softly admitted, "I missed you, too." 
A few moments later, you walked along Azriel as he shared stories about his home, his brothers, and the various experiences he'd had, absorbing each narrative with hungry ears. It was a beautiful thing to see, Azriel open and laughing, the smile on his lips as he recalled favorite memories. This house, The House of Wind as Azriel had called it, was filled with life– his life. You could feel it everywhere as you walked. There was a small tug at your heart. He had a life. A beautiful, real life. 
Eventually, you both stopped at a large window, the outside world spread before you in a breathtaking view. Azriel found his gaze dropping to the streets below, devoid of the usual bustling life he was used to. Faintly, a small ache hit the back of his head. He blinked it away. Then, he frowned slightly, a realization hitting him that he didn’t enjoy seeing the streets empty– that something felt missing. He turned to look at you, brows furrowed. 
"Do you ever get lonely?" 
The question lingered in the air for a moment, stealing the air from your lungs. Why it seemed to strike, you couldn’t tell, but it left a burn in its wake. You let out a deep breath as you looked up at Azriel.
“The Mother blessed me with a duty that is fulfilling.”
Azriel looked at you, studying your response. A sense of sadness filled him, a gentle ache in his heart at the idea, at the image of you alone, wandering the empty streets. Softly, he spoke, "That's not what I asked." 
A wave of emotion washed over you. There was a sanctity to your duties, to the job that you held. You were honored to help The Mother, to be the one that granted such peace. You never knew that you could feel such longing, such a desire to be someone else, something else, until you met Azriel the first time he crossed. And then the time after. And now. 
 "Yes, Azriel,” you admitted, “I do.”
As you both stood in the quiet moment, the stunning view from the window still visible in your peripheral vision, you looked at Azriel. You took in his details—the tousle of his hair, the gleam in his eyes—committing the scene to memory. This was an image you wanted to save forever, one of him so close, so connected. 
Azriel broke the silence with another question, "Why do you do that? Say my name so often?"
You didn’t realize that the frequency in which you used his name was noticeable. It rolled off your tongue so easily, so naturally. You thought about it for a moment, thought about the feeling you got before you said it. 
"Would you prefer me to call you by something else?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as you observed Azriel's expressions. "Shadowsinger, or Spymaster?"
His response was immediate and he took a step forward as he spoke. "No," Azriel said, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I-I like it."
You smiled at him. "I suppose I do it to make sure you feel seen." 
A flicker of confusion crossed Azriel's face, his brows knitting together. "Seen?"
"To show you that you're not just what you do," you explained, your voice carrying a quiet sincerity. Your words trailed off softly. A beat passed, and then you added, "At least not to me." 
In his hundreds of years of life, Azriel was never seen. He had been perceived, observed, even known, but never truly seen. Not like the way you looked at him, the way you allowed him to breathe, allowed him to exist as nothing more than simply Azriel. 
Your gaze held seemed to see beyond the layers he had meticulously built around himself for so long, beyond the titles and responsibilities that often defined him. For the first time, he felt a sense of vulnerability mingled with relief—a feeling of being understood in a way he hadn't experienced before, in a way he never felt he deserved. A warmth spread through his body, starting from the pit of his stomach and radiating outward, enveloping him in a comforting embrace. 
Without even realizing it, his hand moved towards you, lifting a strand of your hair and gently holding it between his scarred fingers. In the past, he would have hesitated to touch another person so intimately, but in this moment, there was no hesitation, no sense of reluctance, only a pull to you and you only. Was this part of what it meant to be a Reaper? He wondered, to cause such comfort in those you kept company? To make them feel like this? 
He watched the way the strand of hair caught the light, twirling it between his fingers with a tenderness he had never known himself capable of. He met your eyes, slightly widened, observing him intently. With a soft smile, Azriel spoke, "I see you too, Y/n.”
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
His view was filled with rolling hills, vibrant in green hues, a gentle afternoon sun in the sky. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of babbling brooks and streams, a soothing melody that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rustle of the wind through the grass, through the leaves of the trees that surrounded you. Azriel understood why Mor was so fond of her estate, why she ran off to it when she could. If it was surrounded with views like this, with such quiet life, beautiful life, he would escape to it, too. Beside him, you lay on the soft grass, your hair spread out around you like a halo. 
Despite the open air, Azriel felt groggy, his eyelids heavier than they’d felt in a while. Something felt strange, a trickling sense of anxiety within his body. The wind in his hair and the air on his arms, on his wings, didn’t feel the same— it wasn’t as lively, wasn’t as strong. There was a sharp throb in the back of his head, sending a sudden wave of pain crashing over him. He grimaced and let out a low groan.
Instinctively, you jumped up at the sound, angling your body to face him, concern painting your features. Your heart dropped as you watched him bring a hand to the back of his head, brows furrowed in discomfort.
Amidst pained groans, Azriel turned to you with a frown. "I’m sorry. I just- I keep having these horrible headaches.”
You let out a small breath.
"It's because you're healing," you murmured softly, your voice tinged with sorrow. Your gaze lingered on him, sadness flickering across your features. When Azriel’s eyes met yours, you quickly blinked away any evidence of it, calling forward a gentle, unassuming, face. 
His hand dropped slowly from the back of his head. "I am?" he echoed.
You extended your hand, hovering it gently over the back of his head where his hand had been moments ago. "This is where you damaged your skull," you explained softly,. "The injury that got you... Well, here. With me." Your gaze swept around the tranquil surroundings, a small, bittersweet smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Any progress in your physical body, you feel here too," you continued, your voice tender yet matter-of-fact. "The ache is calling you back."
"Back to my life," Azriel murmured, the words barely audible as they slipped from his lips, softening and fading before they fully formed.
You nodded, a lump in the back of your throat. 
Azriel's expression shifted abruptly, a flash of tension replacing the settled calmness that had graced his face for quite some time now.  "I don't want to go back," he said. It was a tone of voice you’d never heard from him before, a sense of desperation that didn’t fit him. 
 You shook your head gently. "You don't mean that.”
But Azriel remained resolute. Moving closer, he reached out, his hand coming to rest atop yours on your thigh. "I do," he insisted, his tone unwavering. “Y/n, I do.”
“Azriel,” You said sternly. “You have a life waiting for you, a long life.”
“But I’m so tired. All the time,Y/n” he admitted, his voice heavy with weariness. “And this,” he gestured around him, his eyes lingering on the rolling green hills, "this is the most at peace I’ve ever felt."
You felt a selfish impulse, a desire to indulge in his fantasy, to urge him to stay, to fight against the inevitable pull back to reality. But you knew it wasn't fair, that it wasn’t right. If you truly cared for someone, you had to be fair to them. And you cared for Azriel– cared for him in a way you’d never felt before. 
“But it’s not real,” you interjected softly, leaning in, your brows furrowed, your forehead creased with concern. "This isn’t a life.This isn’t a reality— this is an in-between. Sooner or later, you will find yourself on one end.”
Azriel couldn’t understand. His heart hurt. Why weren’t you agreeing with him? Why weren’t you telling him to stay, convincing him it was worth it? This peace he felt with you, this quiet life you lived, he could stay. He would stay. 
“You’re real,” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. “And right now, this...” he trailed off, his gaze sweeping over your face, "this feels real to me.”
You took a deep breath, feeling knots tightening in your stomach, a lump forming in your throat. You swallowed down the words you wanted to say, replacing the ones on your tongue with those he needed to hear. 
"I'm a Reaper," you said, reminding him of the inevitable separation it entailed. His eyes, a dark, almost sad brown, met yours. “Reapers aren’t meant to stay.”
The knots in your stomach were twisting now, weaving themselves through your ribs. It was hard for you to breathe, hard for you to look at Azriel as he stared at you with such clear hurt on his face. He couldn’t stay. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t the plan. Azriel was going to return to a life where he would not remember you, a life in which you didn’t exist. And you would remain here, waiting in a form of existence that had no time. 
"Your family misses you," you continued, your gaze unwavering as you locked eyes with him. The knots now wrapped around your heart, squeezing.  "You still have things to do. They need you. You need them."
Surely your heart was about to burst, the pressure in your chest now overwhelming– crushing you, your heartbeat erratic. 
“Come with me.” Azriel said.
You let out a small breath, a soft laugh escaping your lips at the absurdity of his suggestion. It sounded so simple, so easy, but you knew better. It wasn't that simple, life was never that easy. You were a Reaper. He was a soul. Before you could respond, Azriel continued, his voice still gentle but earnest.
"You'll love them. And you'll love Velaris when it is filled with people. With life."
His eyes bore into you, seemingly searching for something, trying to memorize every contour of your face, every flicker of emotion that danced across your features. 
"I can't," you replied softly, your heart heavy with the weight of your duty. You shook your head again as you tightened your lips for a moment. "That's not how this works.”
Azriel's demeanor softened, a small breath of defeat escaping him as his wings drooped slightly. He took in everything you said, his gaze flickering down to where his hand still rested atop yours before meeting your eyes again.
"I don’t want to leave you here," he said quietly.
Here, alone, he thought. It was true, everything was so beautiful in this form of existence. It was quiet, serene, and calm. The nights were beautiful, the days were glorious. But without you, it would have been empty. Void of life. He didn’t want that for you, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you in such a vast space. It felt wrong. 
You recognized the concern in his eyes, realizing that his desperation stemmed from a place of caring– caring for you.  It struck a chord within you, stirring a bittersweet pang in your chest, right beside your rapidly beating, tied up heart. Somehow, knowing that he cared for you only made you care for him more, deepening the sorrow that lingered in you, the feeling that now coursed through your veins. 
Tilting your head, you offered him a soft smile, a gesture of reassurance, you hoped. "Azriel," you said gently, your voice tinged with a warmth he had grown to love,  "I'll be alright. I'm happy here. It's where I belong."
It wasn’t all a lie. This was where you belonged, and you would be alright. But you weren’t sure if you’d be happy. Happiness wasn’t something you used to think of. You had a duty, a sacred, important duty, nothing else really mattered— not yourself, not your desires, not your heart. 
Azriel took in your answer, swallowing the urge to fight it, to convince you further.  But the pleading in your eyes, coupled with the ache in his chest and the heaviness in his stomach, left him feeling defeated. With a resigned nod, he looked at you, his voice soft but determined.
"I'll find you," he whispered.
You blinked, caught off guard by the soft declaration.
"I'll find you," Azriel said again, his tone firmer, as if he were making a promise that he intended to keep.
You understood the sentiment behind his words, recognizing the determination in his eyes. You knew, without needing to discuss it, that as a skilled spymaster, he possessed the ability to find people. Yet, deep down, you also understood the inevitable truth—that soon, he would forget you, forget the time you spent together. The thought caused a sharp ache in your heart, one you preferred not to dwell on.
So, with a heavy heart, you simply nodded and murmured, "Okay." And offered him a smile. 
You sat there in silence, the weight of his words hanging in the air around you. Breathing in the crisp, fresh air, you let the sounds of nature wash over you, grounding you in the present moment. Your gaze lingered on his face, committing every detail to memory, as if carving it into your very being. You wanted to remember this. Remember him, his touch, his care for you. 
Azriel—the shadowsinger, the spymaster, a skilled killer. And then there was you—the servant of the Mother, a guide for souls, bound by duty and devotion. Death and his Reaper. What a poetic pair you made.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
It was time. 
You had been right, when you talked him down before, sitting on the beautiful green hill.  Azriel had a life to return to, a family he missed– a family that missed him. He didn’t belong here, no matter how much he wished he could. He could feel it, nestled within his ribs, a deep pull to his body. 
Azriel stood in the familiar confines of the River house, his gaze fixed on the bed where his physical form lay peacefully. He took in the sight of his body, now filled with color, vibrant and alive, a stark contrast to the pale, lifeless form he had been when he first awoke. 
A sense of disorientation washed over him as he realized he was back here, in this room, though he couldn't recall making the conscious decision to return. From behind him, he felt your presence, a familiar energy that always seemed to embrace him with a comfortable warmth, the sweet smell in his nose.
 "I didn't even realize I was coming here.” Azriel said. 
Without turning, he heard your soft voice. "You never do," you replied simply, “Your body calls and you answer.”
Azriel nodded slowly, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. He breathed out heavily. He longed to turn and look at you, to embrace your presence, trace the features of your face. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to confront the truth that lay before him—that he wanted to go back, back to the land of the living, to his family, to embrace his life once more. But he wasn't ready for what he needed to do in order to return– wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you.
“Azriel,” You said, as you gently placed your hand on his arm. He turned to look at you, his heart skipping a beat.The faelight cast a soft glow on your body, illuminating the delicate features of your face, dancing through your hair like shimmering strands of moonlight. And there it was—the small, reassuring smile that you had offered him so many times before. The smile you had given to him when he first woke up, afraid and alarmed, in the same place he stood now. 
He couldn't help but feel a flicker of happiness at the sight of your gentle smile, but just as quickly as the feeling washed over him, it was replaced by a bittersweet pang of realization. The reality of why you were here, why you were looking at him with such tender affection, why he could barely feel your touch— and why his head throbbed with searing pain. He glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping form, and then looked at you again. 
“Y/n, I-”
You gently shook your head, a soft shushing sound escaping your lips as you reached out to calm him. "It's okay," you reassured him, your voice gentle but firm. "You won’t feel a thing."
But Azriel shook his head too, his expression filled with concern as he took your hands in his. "That's not what I'm worried about," he admitted quietly.
You met his gaze, taking in every detail of his face, breathing in his scent. Your gaze drifted towards his wings, so beautiful, so powerful. And then you looked back at him.
"I'll be okay." 
It was a promise, not just to him, but to yourself.
Azriel's senses dulled and the pain intensified, a sense of desperation washed over him. He thought back to your conversations earlier. He never figured out how time worked here, perhaps the conversation had been days ago, even weeks. But, to him, it felt like hours prior. Maybe a day, if he was being generous. Still, his mind raced with thoughts, with things he wanted to tell you, to ask of you, things that hadn’t been there before. Ask me what you really want to, Azriel, you had said, so he did.
“Am I worthy?” His voice rang out, unsure, afraid— of the answer, of what the question meant. “Am I worthy of this life? Is… is it worth it?”
You smiled. A broad, bright, and kind smile. 
You felt Azriel's hands tremble slightly in yours, guiding them to your lips. With tender reverence, you pressed a small, tender kiss upon his scarred flesh. “Yes,” you whispered, “If only you knew.”
You understood now, why The Mother always urged for a swift journey. You weren’t supposed to spend such intimate times with your souls, you weren’t supposed to grow comfortable in their presence, to learn about their favorite candies and the way their mothers smelled. You weren’t supposed to because it distracted you from your duty– and more importantly, you weren’t supposed to because it prevented you from the heartache you felt now. A piercing pain in your chest, a heaviness in your stomach. 
You lifted a hand and gently placed it on his cheek. The warmth of your touch radiated through his body, sending a wave of indescribable sensation coursing through him. The world seemed to blur around him, the ringing in his ears drowning out all other sound. He squinted against the growing brightness, his head throbbing with a relentless ache. He heard your voice, soft like honey, sweet like tea, whispering in his ear in perfect clarity. 
“Goodbye, Azriel.”
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Azriel jolted upright, his body propelled by a surge of adrenaline that left him momentarily breathless. With a deep inhale, he struggled to steady his racing heart, his surroundings swimming into focus with agonizing slowness.
Each detail of the room seemed to materialize before him in excruciating detail, from the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the window to the faint murmur of voices drifting from the doorway. His hand instinctively went to the back of his head, a gesture born of instinct rather than any physical discomfort. Confusion furrowed his brow as he tried to recall why he had woken with such a start, where he currently was, why he laid on a bare bed, but the memory seemed frustratingly out of reach– blurry and unfocused. 
As Azriel's eyes adjusted to the soft light filtering through the room, the door creaked open, a distant sound barely registering in his slow mind. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, a blur of motion filled his vision and Cassian was upon him, bounding forward with a crushing embrace. "There's my boy!" 
With a startled gasp, Azriel felt the air rush out of his lungs as Cassian's hug engulfed him, the force of the impact momentarily disorienting him further than he already was. A small, involuntary sound—a mixture of surprise and amusement—escaped his lips as he tried to regain his bearings. Azriel's gaze flickered past Cassian’s broad shoulders, to where Rhysand stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and amusement.
"Okay, Cass," Rhysand said, walking towards the bed. "Let him breathe. We don’t want to give him another head injury."
Cassian released Azriel from his enthusiastic embrace, though a joyous gleam danced in his eyes as he stepped back, offering Azriel a sheepish grin. "My bad," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment, “I just missed ya.” 
Rhysand stood casually, a playful smirk dancing across his lips. "If you were seeking attention, Az, you could've simply asked," he said with a wave of his hand. "No need to resort to dying for it."
The comment elicited a shocked blink from Azriel, his brows furrowing in confusion. "I- What?" he echoed. A few of his shadows slithered up his arms, wrapping themselves across his shoulders, the cool trail of them relieving tension in his upper body. 
Rhysand let out a small laugh as he clapped him on the shoulder with a reassuring grin. "You have a lot of catching up to do, brother," Rhysand remarked, “Let's get you back to the land of the living.”
Azriel offered a small, uncertain laugh in response, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a hesitant smile, his mind still cloudy, disoriented. Rhysand and Cassian began talking, referring to him, attempting to fill Azriel in, but he wasn’t paying attention, their voices blending into a distant hum.
Instead, Azriel's attention was drawn to an inexplicable warmth on his cheek. Instinctively, he lifted his hand and gently touched the spot, feeling the comforting heat beneath his fingertips. He frowned, trying to make sense of the sensation, but the warmth seemed to soothe his lingering disorientation, grounding him in the present moment with a sense of…ease. 
Azriel's attention shifted towards the corner of the room, where a soft beam of sunlight filtered through the window. A handful of his shadows floated and twirled, their graceful movements dancing within the warm glow. He smiled, tilting his head at the sight, his hand still on his cheek. What a beautiful sight, Azriel thought. And then he was turning his attention back to his brothers, a wide smile now on his cheeks. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
y'all... imagine meeting ur soulmate but u can only see her when ur dead and cant remember her otherwise lol sucks for azriel.
anyways! i hope y’all enjoyed. this idea popped up in my head and i couldnt make it go away. now time to finish beneath the ashes of our broken oaths pt 3 & a cassian one shot 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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sillymercury · 28 days
Text
Totally Annoying and Not Funny at All
Azriel x reader
<3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warnings: some swearing and suggestiveness
Word count: 6.7k (I’m so sorry??)
Summary: Azriel finds you annoying and he never laughs at your lame jokes… until he does.
<3
Azriel tried his best to ignore the mumbling that was sounding behind him, tune it out like he did with everything else he didn't want to hear. He sighed rolling his shoulders as he continued to shlep up the uneven rocks.
He had been stuck with you... again. He tried raging against his brother’s order, insisting he could handle a simple recovery mission on his own but Rhys didn't budge, saying, "She's a fine scholar who has studied Marestone for years, with her help you can turn a three day mission into one and a half." But being here, with you, he couldn't help the but wondering on the implications of leaving you here and ditching the mission completely.
It started when you appeared in his doorway as he was getting ready to leave, his shadows alerted him of your presence and he stopped short to give you a hard look. Maybe if he looked mean enough you wouldn't want to go, he knew it wouldn't work but he had to try it anyway.
You let out a low whistle as your eyes tracked up and down his body, "Is that a sword in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You had a devilish smile and your eyes shone with mischief. He just rolled his eyes at the words, the same line every time you see him. Last time you asked if it was a shadow, the time before that a dagger, and the time he was carrying training equipment you asked if it was a fighting dummy.
He didn't speak to you as you sauntered through his room uninvited and landed belly up on his bed, shadows darted around your face and you giggled "at least someone's happy to see me." You pawed at the shadows as they darted through your hands, a little cat and mouse with the naughty shadows that didn't listen when its master tried to call them back.
You rolled over and watched him as he continued to sheath daggers and swords all over his body as the shadows played in your hair. "You know," you started and he rolled his eyes again, knowing it was going to be a repeating offense since he had to spend the next day and a half with you, "The Northwood mountains are relatively safe, I don't think you'll be needing all that hardware."
He didn't have to look over to know you had a stupid grin plastered on your face as you watched him. He just huffed and responded coldly, "You never know." You didn't really and he knew that, you moved through the world like it was your playground and you were put on this planet for the sole reason of having fun, never worrying about the dangers life has to offer. Must be nice not having a dirty past he thought to himself.
You returned the sentiment by huffing in response as well, the only difference of yours was light and airy and not laced with annoyance. "Your right your right," you had opted to rolling back over and kicking your feet as the shadows swished around your ankles, "I hear badgers are particularly dangerous this time of year. I might need you to save me,” you laughed at your own dramatics and Azriel cut a glance in your direction only for his eyes to catch on your feet.
With two stomps he was next to the bed grabbing your ankles, he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, earning and excited wooo from your lips before he threw your feet over the side. “No shoes on the bed,” was all he said before he went back to what he was doing, packing his sack with anything he could possibly need for the overnight trip.
You sat up straight and the shadow moved to curl around your neck like a scarf, “Sorry, I forgot that you’re a neat freak.” You were provoking him and he knew it but he still couldn’t help himself.
“I’m not a- I’m not a neat freak, I’m just not dirty,” his tone was meant to be offensive and he felt his anger rising at the fact that you didn’t take any.
“Pfft, says the guy who notices if his knives have been breathed on… you’d hate to see my room,” you seemed to remember the fact as you said it as you leaned over and started pushing around the things on his bed side table. You smiled at your actions as you could already see his reaction in your mind, meanwhile, a shiver when down Azriel spine. He didn’t even want to imagine your bedroom, the thought made his skin crawl. The one time he was tasked with picking you up from your apartment he saw through the crack in your door that you had clothes, shoes, books, and a bunch of random nick-nacks and toys strewn about haphazardly. “And I prefer to use the term messy. Not dirty.”
He was crossing the floor to the closet to grab his night sack when stopped to readjust his night table and he cut you a glare, “Shoes on the bed is dirty,” he gave you a once over before turning to walk in his closet. You made a face at his back before putting your feet on the bed again and kicking it wildly before moving back quickly as he came out. His shadows danced around you amused and you smiled at them. Laying back on your belly you made sure to keep your toes on the floor as you passed secrets back and forth with the shadows, giggling to yourself.
Azriel pulled the sack over a shoulder and looked over at your ass sticking up in the air, his eyes only lingered for a second but one of his shadows whispered to him, smack it, and with that he used all of his willpower to pull the shadows away from their bad influence. You frowned at the lost of your friend but stood up an asked “Ready Azzy baby?”
He frowned at the stupid nickname, he told you a million times not to use it but at this point he wasn’t sure if you even knew his real name. Looking you over clocking your attire he realized you didn’t have any belongings with you other than a small over the shoulder bag and his face morphed into a smirk at the thought of you sleeping on the ground. Your eyes shone at his reaction as he leaned towards you a whispered, “Don’t call me that.”
You shivered at his proximity and said, “Sir yes sir,” he leaned back and you bit your lip as he rounded you and walked toward the door, “I do as I’m told,” your tone was suggestive and his shadows tore from his grip to dance around your waist.
He didn’t turn but you could hear the smirk on his voice, “What if I told you to keep quiet for the rest of the trip?” He knew you would have some quick quip as to why you wouldn’t but alas a boys gotta try.
The suggestiveness lingered as you said, “Well then I might misbehave,” the shadows found your response amusing as they twisted up your torso but Azriel just responded with the shake of his head.
Now here you both were climbing up the Northwood mountains in search of a cave entrance, you had found two already but a quick sniff told you that it didn’t have what you were looking for. The flight was bearable, you didn’t talk much but when you did he would just fly faster so the wind would drown out your voice, you caught on and opted to spend the flight quietly leaning your head on his shoulder.
Being completely honest you liked Azriel but after your first meeting you knew he didn’t like you and never would, so the quips started off as a defense mechanism but you realized his shadows liked you and they seemed to love your teasing and playfulness so you settled for that; it also helped that Az looked so cute when he’s angry.
If Az was being honest he didn’t totally hate you, you were cute and your wit was unmatched but it was so much easier to act uninterested and distant.
At some point during your hike you were asking Az if he had heard the song that had been looping in your head, “Have you ever heard ‘Pl-“ was cut off by a swift no. You rolled your eyes and droned on and on about how you loved it and it was so amazing. You gave him a sample of what the song sounded like but since their wasn’t any lyrics you were just making noises with your mouth, you definitely weren’t doing the song justice and you knew he would find it terribly annoying but you couldn’t help yourself. You were just about to stop when he sent his shadows to muffle your voice and the act alone fueled you conviction so you kept going.
He had to use his entire mental capacity to force his shadows to quiet you, they didn’t want to because for some unholy reason he couldn’t discern, they liked the sound of your voice. They liked you in general but then again you were the only other person in the world who would talk and interact with them.
The mumbling stopped and he thanked the mother herself as he recalled the shadows that were quieting you but when he didn’t hear your footsteps he whipped around to scan the scene. For a brief second he thought with his luck you might have fallen over the side of the mountain, and he questioned whether that would be good luck or bad.
Instead you were face down in the dirt, he almost laughed at you splayed out on the ground like a starfish but stifled it and he walked over and nudged your arm with his foot. You rolled onto your back and stared directly at the sky, “I fell,” you said simply.
He bit back his laugh again, “Yea?”
“I was wondering how long it would take the Spymaster of the night court to notice, turns out 11 seconds.” He looked off into the distance so you wouldn’t see his smile, regaining control he looked back down but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eye.
He shrugged down at her, “I guess your little friends didn’t see fit to tell me.” You sighed as you held out her hand, Az didn’t put much effort in trying to lift you but when you were dead weight he pulled harder. In that half second that he put all his force into pulling you up you brought your foot to his chest and pushed him over your head causing him to hit the ground with a thud.
You laughed heartily and he just stared at the sky listening to the sound. “Good one,” his voice was flat and that made you laugh harder. Rolling over you propped yourself up with your arms to witness the damage, it was his turn to be splayed like a starfish and you laughed so hard you thought your stomach would bust.
He tilted his head back to catch a glimpse and your smile was so broad he wondered if your cheeks hurt. He turned back to the sky and clocked the myriad of colors that dusted it, he had probably about an hour until sunset. He also propped himself up and scanned his surroundings once again, his shadows read his mind and told him this was as good of a place he would find to make camp. “It’s getting late, we should probably set up camp for the night.”
You moved to sit with your legs crossed and face the man who had his back to you. “Okay! What should I do?” Your not a camper, in fact you’ve never slept outside of a well established shelter with heating and cozy beds. For some reason when Rhys told you the trip would be overnight it didn’t even cross your mind that you would be sleeping outside.
“How about you just sit there and look pretty,” Az said as he got up and dusted himself off. You smiled at that, not only was it as close to a jest as he’s ever gotten but it’s also the closest to a compliment.
“Well I can definitely do that,” you leaned back onto the ground using our arm as cushions as watched the clouds glow as they moved across the painted sky. Azriel got to work, he collected sticks and logs to build a cozy little fire and catching a couple of small rabbits for food. He rummaged through his sack to pull out a pan and a pack of veggies to heat up with the meat before he pulled out his sack and tossed it to the side to unfold later.
When you smelled the food cooking you perked up and moved to crouch next to him and watch; you hadn’t even realized you were hungry until the smell hit. He looked at you out of the side of his eye, you were practically drooling as you stared at the food meant solely for him.
“I take it you didn’t pack any food,” he knew you didn’t, that’s why he caught the extra rabbits, he practically had magical foresight when it came to you. A vision of you begging for some of his food had him laughing to himself as his shadows did the hard work of catching the small creatures.
You purses your lips in thought before, “Oh!” You rummaged through your small bag and pulled out a baggie mixed with nuts, berries, and chocolates. “I brought trail mix, I’ll share if you do,” you sung the last part as you shook the baggie near his face.
He pushed the bag away lightly while shaking his head, “Fine. But I only like the chocolates,” it was a lie, he liked nuts and berries too but he had a feeling the chocolates were your favorite part so he opted to give you a taste of your own medicine. You grunted as you plopped down on your butt and mumbled a fine, whatever mostly to yourself. He smiled knowing you couldn’t see it as he finished cooking.
You two mostly ate in silence other than you offering up random facts about whatever popped in your head like how wombats poop squares or how peanuts can be used to make explosives. Azriel just nodded at whatever you said not admitting out loud what he didn’t know or what he found interesting. He offered you some of his water which turned out to be a mistake as you drank over half of it, he thanked his gift of foresight that told him to pack multiple canteens.
When you guys finished eating you both brushed your teeth with what was left of the water and Azriel was glad you at least packed your toothbrush even though you forgot toothpaste. Twilight was upon you when you finished, he rinsed off the dirty pan with the second canteen and shoved it to the bottom of his bag before rolling out his sleep sack. The corner of his eye caught you watching, awkwardly sat on your hands, lips pursed like you wanted to speak but were holding yourself back.
“Don’t even ask,” he said without looking at you as he slipped off his boots and the top layer of leather to reveal a tight fitted gray long sleeve.
“Oh come on! You don’t even have a second blanket?” When Az shook his head you groaned heavily, he made a slick comment about preparing better for overnight trips and you shook your head as you pulled your knees in close. “I didn’t know we’d be sleeping outside, I guess I assumed we’d have beds out here.”
“Oh yea,” Az said he climbed in, “Most mountains have rooms you can rent out, with heating and plumbing too. This one must just be defective.”
You couldn’t even be mad, he was making jokes, for the first time since you met him. All of your chipping must’ve cracked his icy exterior enough to make him open to shoot quips back at you. You thought about what else you might be able to pull from him as you curled into yourself on the hard ground with only your arm as a pillow.
It didn’t take long for the temperature to drop after the sun was completely gone and with the wind picking up the now small fire wasn’t doing much to help. Azriel couldn’t get to sleep, not with his shadows buzzing in his ear, she’s freezing, her lips are turning blue, she can’t feel her fingers. Not to mention your teeth chattering so hard he thought he would soon hear a crack. He got up and moved over to where you were attempting and failing to sleep and nudges your arm with his foot.
You rolled over to look at him and your lips were in fact tinged with blue, part of him felt bad at the sight as he purposely left his blankets just to spite you. “Go sleep in my sack.”
“Are you sure, what about you?” You sat up and looked at him to make sure he was serious, the light from the moon that shone on his face didn’t illuminate any semblance of a joke.
“I’ll be fine. It’s like you always say, I’m super hot,” you laughed at his words as you quickly moved to his sack.
“Thank you Azzy baby!” You called as you slipped off you shoes and windbreaker before sliding in, it was warm and it smelled like him and you let out a soft moan as you instantly felt warmer.
Az had wrapped his wings around himself in an attempt to make a barrier and the more he sat there the worse he felt for leaving you to the elements. You knew that despite what he said he would be just as freezing as you just were and you debated for a few minutes before speaking.
“You know this sack is big enough for two people,” you knew he was awake but when he didn’t answer you tried again, trying your hardest not to sound like a desperate creep, “I’m just saying, body heat will reduce the amount of heat loss. Survival 101.”
Az was freezing but he sat for a second as he debated whether or not to climb into that sack, how annoying could you be in your sleep? When a gust of wind blew against his back he just said screw it and silently made his way to you. He kicked off the untied boots before climbing in with you.
You kept your self from immediately scooting towards his warmth and let him get comfortable first. In a true gentlemanly fashion he offered his arm as a pillow and you silently swooned as you accepted it, he also brought he wing down over your body and it acted like a second blanket. Snaking your arms around his waist you tangled your legs with his and to your suprise he never stoped you or pulled away, in fact his other arm was secured around your middle. With his warmth and his smell shrouding you, you fell asleep quick and easy, much better than any bed.
Az didn’t sleep so easy, your body pressed to him was indeed keeping him warm but he wasn’t used to sleeping with someone like this. He had his share of lovers but he was never a cuddler and it didn’t help that you moved around a lot in your sleep, kicking him occasionally. With the moon higher above your heads he looked down at your sleeping face.
Though you still were finding a way to annoy him in your sleep, your state had him softening. Your skin looked so soft and pristine in the light from the moon and the hair pooled around your head glowed like a halo. You plump lips were slightly parted and you produced a light snore that had Az smiling to himself. He brought a scarred hand to caress the skin on your cheek while the arm that you layed on bent so he could twirled your hair, you let out a happy moan at the contact and he smiled as his hand took on a mind of its on. Trailing you from your cheek to your jaw, down the column of your neck and back up to swipe the soft skin of your lips.
You shifted and turned, he brought his hand back afraid he woke you, but when you just nuzzled your face deep into his chest he felt his heart jump. You inhaled his scent deeply and that seemed to settle your restlessness, his jumping heart felt a tug and he froze for a second. Looking down at you he couldn’t believe it, he felt around his heart and it wasn’t snapped but he was sure it was there.
“No,” he breathed as he looked at you wrapped around his body, “no way.” His shadows seemed excited by the revelation as they chanted yes, yes, yes, like they already knew. He wondered if the bond snapped for you already and that’s what you had been whispering to his shadows about, the thought made him shiver. He had been so cold and distasteful, you were a good fae and deserved better than that, you deserved a male who laughed at every stupid joke.
You registered his shiver in your sleep pulling him tighter to you and the simple thoughtless action made his eyes prickle. He held you tightly, memorizing the way your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. He held back his tears by inhaling your scent of honeysuckle and roasted wood, with a gentle kiss on your brow he closed his eyes and promised his nosey shadows that he would be nice tomorrow.
-
Az was still asleep when you woke up, you didn’t want to move and even if you did you were trapped by his strong arm and wing. But you were content to stay like this forever, gazing up at his sleeping face. His tan skin was smooth and his nose and cheekbones were decorated with freckles, you brought your hand up to hover over his face, ghosting over the lines and ridges. His hair was tousled from sleep, falling like dominoes across his forehead and his plump lips were pouting . You let out a deep sigh as you pulled your hand back, why do you torture yourself this way. You wiggled around attempting to move away from him but your efforts were futile when his arm pulled you tighter to his body, he grunted as he turned his head to nuzzle into your hair.
Your stomach was doing flips at the action and you had to remind yourself he was asleep, the action was subconscious. You pulled your head back and laid your face inches from his and watched him breathe. His long eyelashes fluttered open and the first thing his golden eyes caught was you, the faint ghost of a smile touched his lips as his eyes roamed over your face. You smiled bright at him, “Good morning shadowsinger, is that a breakfast sausage in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
For the first time since you met him he chuckled lowly as he rolled on his back and stretched his arms behind his and, “aaand you ruined it.” You laughed as he watched you from the corner of his eyes and you sat up to looked directly at him. He must be in a good mood because he wasn’t scowling at you, in fact his face had an ease you’d never seen, he was positively yummy in his sleepy daze.
“My bad,” it was your turn to stretch since you were finally free from his iron grasp though his wing stayed splayed across your legs, “didn’t know there was anything to ruin.”
Az brought his fingers up to grab the ends of your hair, mindlessly twirling it around his fingers while you did the same to his shadows that excitedly came to greet you, “Your actually bareable when you sleep, you don’t talk and ruin it.” He meant his word as a joke but something clicked for you. Azriel is quiet and calm, he would probably prefer someone like him, maybe if you weren’t always badgering him for attention he could reciprocate your feelings. “Except for the fact that you’re a kicker.”
You laughed as his shadows danced away and you leaned back against your hand to look at his face again “Yea I probably should have warned you, my sisters refuse to share a bed with me for that exact reason.” When he didn’t look away or move your turned your attention back to your hands, the softness in his eyes was too much and you worried for your conviction. You reached out a finger to dance across the top of his wing which instantly retracted at your touch. He grunted as he moved to sit up, “Im sorry, I didn’t- I shouldn’t have-“
“Its fine,” He shook his head as he pushed the top of the sack off his body and made a move for his shoes, “I just don’t want to hear any more breakfast sausage jokes.” He smirked over his shoulder and you blushed at his suggestive tone, only able to nod as you noted the sensitivity of Illyrian wings. You pushed yourself up and grabbed your shoes as well before getting ready to hike again.
When your teeth were brushed, hair tied, and you finished reliving yourself Az had successfully packed up the rest of the camp as stood waiting for you. You began your hike and this time you remembered to keep your mouth shut, no suggestive jokes, no terrible singing, and no random facts. Just silence as you found another cave that didn’t have the distinct smell you were looking for. “I think we need to be higher up,” You said as you craned your neck to look up the mighty mountain that still lied ahead, “You could fly us up there and we could work our way down.”
He adjusting the sack on his shoulder and looked at you like you had a secret he was trying to figure out, after a few seconds of you shifting under his gaze he spoke, “Its fine,” he followed you eyes up the mountain, “I don’t mind walking.”
“Well I do,” you huffed walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the mountain, “my feet are killing me and I’d rather have a real bed tonight.” You didn’t mean for the first time you spoke since this morning to have a bite to it but you couldn’t help it, forcing yourself to shut up all day was like shaking up a beehive and then telling them they have to remain calm. You were buzzing under the surface but you hoped he would write it off as crankiness. Az got the message and just nodded, he scooped up your legs and shot into the air. You watched his powerful wings that your fingers itched to touch, instead you pressed your mouth to his shoulder and watched silently.
He landed near the top where the safe part of the trail ended and when he started walking without putting you down you pulled back to look at him, “You can put me down now.” He smirked at your words and tossed you up slightly to readjust you tighter against him.
“You don’t want to walk, I don’t mind walking,” he shrugged against you and you wanted to say ‘if you like me just say that’ but you bit your tongue as you were determined not to be annoying today. You just shook your head and put your mouth back to his shoulder, watching the sky over his back. “What? No comment?” When you shook your head he chuckled airily, “Must be my lucky day,” you could hear the smile in his voice and you just closed your eyes shaking your head lightly.
Az had tried to talk to you a couple times, recalling random facts you’ve told him or telling you his own. Each time you would either have a short response or just hum, channeling him and the way he reacted to you. You figured whatever your doing must’ve been working as he seemed much lighter and happier today, that hurt a deep part of you.
Az knew there was something wrong, you weren’t you, but he figured you must’ve been tired or cranky from the uncomfortable sleeping situation and all the walking. You were a scholar used to plushy couches and central air, you were totally out of your element. He eventually stopped trying so hard to get you to talk, he wanted to be good to you and that included reading the signs and not prying.
Eventually he came across a cave and when you hopped out of his arms and smelled the inside you were hit with the smell of rotten milk, you were in the right place. You beckoned him and as soon as he stepped in he started waving his hand in front of his nose, “Wooo, smells like Cass after too much dairy.” You bit your lip to hide your chuckle as you continued deeper into the cave, “Oh come on, that’s totally something you would say, I don’t even get a chuckle?”
Without turning around you just said “Ha ha,” in as stale of a voice you could muster, “Your almost as funny as me.”
Az’s small laugh echoed off the cave and your stomach turned as you memorized the formula; don’t speak too much, make jokes when prompted, keep a cool demeanor like him. “There she is,” he mused, and before he could go on you spoke.
“And there it is,” the smell was so pungent it was like the glass of toxic milk was right under your nose. You pointed up and thought a small whole in the ceiling there was sparkling lights shining through. Marestone despite its awful smell had a beautiful luminosity and many applications, it was embude I’m most magical technology as well as cured to be used in different medicines. The potent material would last for years as a single rock could be split between a hundred different uses.
“Give me a boost,” you said putting your hand on his shoulder and lifting your leg for him, he just looked at you dumbly.
“I’m not sending you up there,” he shook his head and moved your hand.
“Well your not gonna fit,” when he cut you a look your raised your hands defensively, you both knew it was true. There’s no way the big Illyrian warrior with the mega wingspan was fitting through that hole.
“Okay and what happens when you fall? Or the integrity of the cave gives out under you?” He put his hands on his hips in a mock attempt to show sincerity and you matched his movement.
“Ye of little faith,” you said wagging a finger, he just smiled. “Are you trying to extend this trip by another day? They grow on the ceiling, it’ll take forever to find another cave with rocks lower down.”
He just shrugged, “Okay,” he turned to walk away and your attempt to stay cool was thwarted when you groaned loudly.
“Fine, if you won’t help me up I’ll find my own way,” you started pawing at the cave wall, trying to find any wholes or cracks you could use to pull yourself up.
“Okay okay, with my luck you’ll kill yourself trying,” he came over and put his hands on your waist as he guided you away from the cave wall and easily lifted you up towards the whole. When that didn’t work he sat you on his shoulder before lifting you again at the knees, you stretched to reach through the whole and hoisted yourself up, sitting on the edge you had your feet dangling down towards Azriel who kept a hand on your ankle and watched from below.
You pulled out one of the four sealed canister and began pulling the soft rock out of the ceiling and filling it up. It didn’t take long to fill up the first, second, and third canister. The fourth is where you ran into trouble, you’d grabbed all the stone close to you so the rest was slightly out of reach. You pulled your ankle out of Azriel grasp and placed in on the other side of the hole as you stretched your body to reach the stones.
The canister was nearly full when your foot slid, “Are you okay? Can you reach it?” You called out letting him know you were fine and almost done, you moved to grab the last bit you could see when your foot slipped completely and the force dragged your body out of the whole.
Like the knight in shining armor he his Az caught you before you could hit the floor, clutching the glowing canister to your chest you stared up at him in awe. Sure, he would’ve caught anyone that fell but the way his arms were tight around you and his breathing ragged as he searched your face had your heart lurching.
When he caught you it snapped fully for him, you were his mate and there was no denying it. He felt like time slowed and all he could do was stare at your face, memorizing everything he missed before. He pulled on the bond and felt it was one sided and that caused his heart to surge, all of your flirting was because you wanted to and not because of a premature snapping of the bond.
Clearing your throat you jumped out of his arms and dusted yourself off before tucking the canister away. You mumbled your thanks before moving to the exit of the cave.
“Thanks?” He said genuinely sounding confused as he followed you, “No swooning and calling me ‘your hero,’” mocking your voice on the last part which earned him a scoff from you.
“I do know how to be serious Azriel”
“Yea but why would you want to? And since when do you use my real name?”
“Because I don’t want to make this trip miserable for you, and that was a stupid nickname anyway.” You squinted and used your hand as a shield when you stepped back in the sun, Az on your heels.
“Miser- what are you talking about?” He grabbed your wrist and turned you around to face him but you couldn’t meet his eyes so you just shook your head and looked down.
“Nothing, it’s- it’s nothing at all,” you tried to pull your wrist back but his grip was like iron. Your breath hitched when an unexpected and gentle hand traced your jaw and stopped at your chin, lifting your head up and bringing your eyes to his golden ones.
“If it’s making you upset then it’s not nothing,” his hand slipped to cup your cheek and your delusion allowed you to lean into the touch, reveling in its warmth. Your eyes fluttered closed and for a blissful second you let yourself believe he cared, “Talk to me baby.”
The pet name had your eyes flying open and suddenly the spell was broken, you pulled his hand away and pushed him back. The hope his simple actions had given you had you biting back tears, “Don’t call me baby. I’m not a child that needs coddling,” you spat out your words like poison on your tongue
“No I’m not-“ he tried to step forward but you matched him with a step back.
“I know Azriel, I know you don’t like me. I know you find me unbearable and annoying. I know you can never like me for who I truly am,” the tears were getting harder to push back, “Today when I acted different you seemed so much happier but that hurts more- it hurts more than your cold glares because I like you. Every since I met you all I’ve wanted is to make you laugh but-“ you were cut off by your own hiccup and your balled fist came up to wipe your tears but his shadows beat you to it.
Like a flash of lightning he was on you, cupping your cheeks and staring with wide, scared eyes. “No, no, no,” his words were soft when he tilted his forehead down to meet yours, your hands instinctively tried to pull on his wrists but he held true.
“Baby,” his low voice called to you and you closed your eyes tight as more tears fell, “Baby please don’t cry. I’m sorry, this is all my fault.” Your eyes opened again when his voice cracked and you could see he had his own tears he was fighting to keep at bay. You never thought you would see him look so sad, so broken.
“I was so mean to you, I tried to block you out and push you away because you’re everything I’m not. Your bright and fun and so damn happy, I couldn’t figure out what you saw in me and the fact that you even liked me so brazenly made me hate you- but not because of you or who you are but because of me and all of the shit I’ve spent centuries running from.
“You are not the one who has to change, I am. I’m so so sorry I ever made you feel like the real you wasn’t good enough, it’s so much more than enough. I’ll spend forever proving it to you.”
Tears were still clouding your vision so you blinked quickly to let them fall before you brought your hands to his face, moving your head back so you could inspect him. He was serious, and that made your heart jump like it was trying to leave your chest and fly into his. You just shook your head when you brought his lips down to yours.
It was like throwing fresh meat to starving lions, the originally soft kiss dissolved into a mess of frenzied passion and primal hunger. His hand tangled into your hair pulling your head in while the other pressed your bodies together firmly before tracking the curves of your body. Your hands were just as wild as they moved between pulling the hair on his nape to clawing his shoulders and neck. When his tongue darted out to swipe across your bottom lip, it snapped.
You flew back out of his grasp and stared as your one hand felt the lips that were now swollen and the other was on your heart that was now being pulled towards the man in front of you- to your mate. Azriel was your mate. You almost didn’t believe it, tugging on the bond to make sure it was real. A laugh left your lips when he tugged back, twice. Stepping back into his arms you kissed him again, slower this time as you memorized the way your lips molded together.
“You’re my mate,” you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He smiled down and nodded, you were grinning like a kid in a candy store. From the moment you met him he was all you ever wanted and now you could feel the bond that tied your hearts together, the string that always pulled you to him even before you knew of its existence. You wished you could find the mother and thank her personally for the blessing that was looking down at you with pure unbridled love and sending his feelings of adoration down the bond.
“That is if you’ll have me,” his arms circled your waist and his nose moved to the column of your neck, brushing up and down as he breathed you deep into his lungs. He hummed lightly before going on, “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?”
You smiled to yourself, “I don’t know Azzy baby, I think you’re going to have to make it up to me.” A playful growl bubbled up as he lightly nipped your throat, earning him a surprised yelp.
You ended up feeding him some of the trail mix you made and the frenzy kicked in at your newly accepted bond. It’s safe to say you two didn’t make it home that night, or any night for the next month as you basked in the joys of being mated.
A/N: AHHHHHHHHHH my first fic😭
It felt a little rushed and slightly juvenile but I had so much fun writing her. I hope if you enjoyed it and if you hated it… no you didn’t tf?
Lols but srsly I love genuine feedback and if you got this far I LOVE YOU!!
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I've Been Waiting For You | Bonus
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Azriel x Reader bonus scenes based off of this one shot. These are some scenes/ideas that didn’t make it to the final cut.
warnings: just some suggestiveness with the last one (but not really, it's just the morning after you and Az spend the night together but the scene itself is just fluff.) all of these scenes are purely fluff 🤧
Thank you so much for all the love you showed this imagine! I'm so happy you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing ♡ I tried to keep all of this roughly in chronological order.
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Azriel groveling after snapping at you.
Azriel found himself in a situation that required more than just words to apologize to you, especially with the look of hurt he had seen in your eyes. Determined to make amends, he decided to enlist Elain's help, knowing that you had a sweet tooth and that snickerdoodles were among your favorite treats. Elain was happy to help, agreeing to bake them for you.
Azriel carefully left the freshly baked cookies in the kitchen, accompanied by a note expressing the sincerity of his remorse.
**
However, the next morning took an unexpected turn when Cassian stumbled upon the kitchen with Nyx in his arms. "Cas-see-an," Cassian kept repeating to Nyx, enunciating his name so slowly in an effort to get the infant to repeat it.
Nyx babbled in response as Cassian gently set him down on the counter. He kept a hand on the baby while his other reached for a mug, missing the way Nyx's curious gaze landed on the colorful note resting atop delicious cookies.
His tiny hands grasp at the note, squeezing it in his hand before it it falls from his grip. Nyx watches as the note falls to the floor, landing under the cabinets. He lets out a small whine.
"Are you hungry?" Cassian asks, turning back to his sweet nephew and follows Nyx's gaze.
"Oh!" Cassian exclaims with a gleeful grin when he spots the plate of cookies. "Don't tell your mother."
Cassian quickly uncovers the plate, thanking the Cauldron for gifting him with a wonderful sister in law that loves to bake. He offers a cookie to Nyx while he takes a couple for himself.
**
Sensing your presence nearby, Azriel dispatches his shadows to investigate the kitchen. They quickly report back to him with the unfortunate news that the cookies had been devoured. He's then rushing into the kitchen himself.
"Morning, Cassian," he hears you say and then with a much lighter and excited tone, "Good morning, Nyx! Whatcha got there?"
"Morning y/n," Cassian greets back, brushing crumbs off his shirt.
Azriel's eyes narrow, gaze flickering between the empty plate and the crumbs on both Cassian's shirts and Nyx's face.
"Oh! Good morning, Az."
At the mere sound of his name, he notices the subtle tension in your body. Before Azriel can utter a word, you swiftly conjure up an excuse and make a hasty exit from the kitchen. As Azriel turns his gaze to Cassian and Nyx, he finds himself unable to muster any anger.
A sigh escapes him. His first effort to make amends had not gone as planned.
**
Undeterred, Azriel decides to try a different approach for his next apology. This time, he chose to give you flowers, intending to leave it somewhere for you to find. However, in his haste or maybe his distraction, he accidentally placed the flowers in a spot where someone else stumbled upon it. Amren, of all people.
"What are these, boy?" She asks sharply, eyeing the colorful arrangement warily as her hands wrap around the vase.
"Flowers."
"I know they're flowers."
"They weren't for you."
"Oh, thank the gods," Amren says in what sounds like relief.
And just as Azriel is about to take them back, his shadows sense you approaching. The Cauldron must not favor him, he thinks. He hears the sudden pause in your step as your gaze lands on him and catches the way your fingers tighten against the book in your hand. He catches a glimpse of Seers in Prythian etched across the cover.
Azriel knows you want to turn around but given it'd be absolutely obvious that you're avoiding him if you did, you find yourself frozen. When he meets your gaze, you turn your head, focusing your direction on Amren instead.
"Nice flowers, Amren."
"Thank you," Amren smirks, silver eyes flashing between you and Azriel. "Aren't they lovely?"
"Lovely as you!" You reply with a smile and then leave.
Once again, Azriel finds himself sighing deeply at another failed attempt in apologizing to you.
"Do better, boy."
"I know."
**
Azriel's third attempt in making amends is cornering you so he can finally talk to you. He sits in the living room, perched on the couch that directly faces the door to Rhysand's office, with a book about the history of seers similar to the one he had seen in your hands the other day. You're currently inside with Elain as you both debrief Rhysand and Feyre on your progress with Elain's powers.
Elain is the first to step out, eyes widening in surprise. "Azriel," she greets with a smile. "What are you doing here?"
"Reading," he replies simply, gesturing toward the book in his hands.
"About seers...?"
"Just thought I could help..."
Elain's eyes narrow at him and Azriel finds himself sinking further into the couch. Though he's apologizing because he genuinely feels remorse and wants to make things right, he can't escape the fact that Elain had chastised him for not doing so already days ago.
"You haven't apologized yet, have you?"
"I'm trying."
Elain's gaze softens and she lets out a small chuckle. "She'll be out in a couple of minutes."
Azriel feels a wave of relief as you step out alone, prompting him to rise to his feet and call your name.
"Hey, Azriel," you greet politely, and his shadows seem to dance with delight at the acknowledgment of his presence. Finally, they whisper eagerly into his ears.
"Can we talk?"
"Oh, um...," Your gaze shifts over his shoulder, seemingly fixed on something that his shadows report as nonexistent. "I think someone else is calling me. Maybe another time? I have to go!"
As you attempt to maneuver around him, Azriel subtly moves with you, blocking your path. "No one called your name," he points out softly, suppressing a smile as your eyebrows furrow. He senses you scrambling for another excuse.
"The future!" you exclaim, your eyes brightening as you tap the corner of your eye. "The future is calling me. I must go."
As you move, Azriel doesn't have it in himself to block your path again. He doesn't even have it in himself to be upset. Not when he finds your excuse amusing and your presence itself endearing.
His shadows, however, aren't as forgiving. They whisper harshly into his ears, growing impatient with each failed attempt. "Next time," he promises them quietly.
(And almost two weeks after him snapping at you, he finally succeeds in asking for your forgiveness during his fourth attempt when he brings your dinner to you in the library.)
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Elain gets a vision, where she finds out you and Azriel are mates.
"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," you instruct her softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”
Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration and as her head grows quiet, the world around her seems to awaken. She can feel the power coursing through her veins as she says, “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”
“Good. Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”
“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow as she struggles to delve deeper into her power. She finds herself stuck amidst the wild sea of the unknown. Wave after wave crashes down on her, knocking her down before she could even get back up.
“Here, take my hands,” she hears you say and then she feels your hands reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”
Elain does as told, bringing herself back to that sea of unknown in her mind. This time, she's not alone and she's able to rise from the water. You're there with her, the two of you standing knee deep in the waters that are beginning to calm in your presence. The world stills around you two and Elain feels her body relax as she allows you to guide her to the center.
And suddenly, the dark sky around her begins to brighten with visions, dazzling her like the stars in your eyes do. She finds herself overwhelmed by the all the flashes and voices. She takes deep, steadying breaths like you always do and the visions begin to slow, developing before in a way she can discern.
Her eyes widen she realizes they're all of you.
In the first vision, you're sat at the breakfast table, making small conversation with Cassian and Nesta as you bite into your pancake. The next couple of visions are mundane, just you going about your daily routine.
Then, you're seated at one of the tables at the garden, basking in the sun while Elain gardens a couple of feet away.
"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"
"Many things," you answer her with a grin. "Called him his Fox boy..."
And Elain wants to linger in this vision longer, itching to know more. But as quickly as it flashed before her eyes, it's fading away and a new vision is brought forth.
Now, she stands within a resplendent ballroom nestled within the House of Wind. Fae lights adorn the ceiling, casting a celestial glow that lets her know its Starfall. Amidst the enchanting scene, you and Azriel gracefully twirl on the dance floor. Elain, intrigued, takes a step forward, captivated by the mesmerizing dance unfolding before her.
“You should stay.”
“Why?”
She watches as a wistful expression takes over your features and she has to stop herself from reaching out for you. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of Azriel's hold before the next song starts, missing the way Azriel frowns at the loss of your warmth.
“There’s no one here for me.”
There's a deep, haunting sadness to the laughter that follows your words. Elain also finds herself frowning. She didn't know you were feeling this way, or rather, going to feel this way.
Elain detects a subtle twitch in Azriel's hand from the periphery of her vision, as if he longs to reach out to you but is held back by fear. Redirecting her focus to Azriel, she observes the tender and affectionate gaze he bestows upon you, while you remain unaware, fixated on the ground. This sight tugs at Elain's heart.
It's surprising because she thought she would feel hurt by it. But she doesn't. Instead, empathy floods her, accompanied by a silent wish that you would lift your gaze and witness the profound way Azriel looks at you in this very moment.
Please, she wants to scream but even if she opens her mouth, she knows no sound will come out. Please look up!
“I’m right here.” 
Elain exhales with relief as you finally meet Azriel's gaze, but the moment has passed. Azriel's expression transforms into one more guarded, his eyes now concealing what was once openly displayed. A subtle frown settles on your lips, and Elain witnesses a fleeting trace of hurt that crosses Azriel's face. Whatever you sought in that exchange, it appears you did not find it.
The scene before her blurs, shifting into another. Elain is now standing at the foyer of the river house, watching as you make your way down the steps. Suddenly, the door slams open and Azriel's chest is rising and falling as if he's been running. His eyes are wide and frantic, relaxing only when he spots you.
"It's you. All this time. It's been you."
“You know?”
"You're my mate."
A warm smile graces Azriel's lips as his gaze meets yours, and the tender expression Elain previously observed during the Starfall vision reappears on his face. She feels her heart melt at the sight because this time, you don't miss the way he's looking at you.
And just as she's about to dive into another vision into your future, she finds your connection abruptly broken. The warmth of your hands leave hers and you disappear from the depths of her mind. The sky around her darkens and though the waves begin to lap at her again, they remain calm and soothing.
"Stop!"
"I'm not hurting her!"
Elain blinks her eyes open and widen at the sight before her. You wear a pained expression on your face and there's blood trickling down your nose. Guilt courses through her, making her skin pale. She didn't know she was hurting you. Oh gods, if she knew, she wouldn't have lingered in the visions of your future. She didn't even know she could do so and judging by the look on your face, you're completely unaware of her accidental intrusion. Maybe, it's best if she didn't tell you...
"Are you okay?"
Elain doesn't have time to dwell on it as Azriel is urging her to go grab a towel while he guides you forward with a worried expression. When she returns with the towel in hand, she finds her apology dying at her throat, reluctant to disrupt the tender moment between you and Azriel.
"Like what?" She hears Azriel asked in an amused manner.
"Don't make me answer that."
At that moment, your gaze locks onto hers, and Elain assumes an air of nonchalance as she finally approaches the two of you with the towel in hand. Azriel takes it from her, carefully wiping at the blood on your face, and as Elain silently watches, she can't believe how she didn't see it before.
You and Azriel are mates and she feels nothing but pure joy for you both. She only wishes she had known sooner.
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Elain confesses to you about Lucien and then asks you about Azriel.
The vibrant streets of Velaris hum with excitement as you and Elain approach one of the bustling markets. Amidst the lively atmosphere, you find yourself marveling at the enduring beauty of the city. You inhale, taking delight in the sweet blend of fresh flowers.
There's a certain lightness to Elain's steps, more so than usual today. Catching your gaze, she turns to you with a soft smile, intertwining her arm with yours and drawing you closer.
"Can I tell you a secret?"
Your eyes light up involuntarily, driven by your insatiable curiosity for gossip. "Of course," you reply and though this is a secret you promise to keep, it doesn't dim your desire to hear it.
"I wrote to Lucien. I think I'm ready to give him a chance."
You stop, halting her in the process as well. A frown creases your brow as you look at her. "Are you sure?"
"I used to think mating bonds were precious," you speak again, mind drifting to Azriel briefly, before redirecting your focus back to Elain. "But I've come to realize there's an even greater beauty in choice."
"I want to give him a chance," she reassures you. "It's my choice."
"Okay then," you reply and the two of you resume in your walk toward the markets. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy."
Elain's gaze lingers on you, a fleeting trace of guilt flickering in her eyes so briefly that you wonder if you imagined it. Curiosity takes hold as she ventures, "What about your own happiness? Is there anyone special you fancy here?"
"I like you," you smile, completely missing the point. "I like Feyre, I like Nyx, I like--"
"No," Elain giggles beside you. "Anyone you like, like?"
"Maybe a certain somebody...," she hints, her voice trailing off and when you stare blankly at her, she adds, "Like maybe Azriel?"
At the mere mention of his name, your body tenses. You're silently hoping Elain doesn't pick up on it, but given she still has her arm wrapped around yours, you're sure she felt it. Still, you feign nonchalance.
“What about Azriel?”
“Do you like him?”
“He’s beautiful, yeah.”
"That's not what I asked," Elain laughs, wearing a knowing grin as if she's already privy to your response.
Your heart skips a beat, prompting an abrupt halt once again. At this rate, you won't reach the stall that sells your favorite pastries in time.
"The other day," you start, and she instantly understands the reference to the day she accidentally glimpsed into your future. "Did you see anything?"
"No," she responds a bit too hastily. "Did you?"
"No," you say with a shake of your head and that dull ache from that day returns. "All I saw was a dark void."
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Elain asks what the Suriel had to say about Lucien.
Nestled on one of the lounge chairs in the garden, you close your eyes as you bask in the sun. Elain, rests a couple of feet away on the soft grass, as she tends to the gardens.
"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"
"Many things," you reply, opening your eyes. Your lips curve into a grin as you remember all the late nights you spent talking about said Autumn male. As emissary to the Spring Court, who often got sent on a lot of missions, the Suriel had a lot to say about him.
"Called him his fox boy...What are you itching to know?
Turning your head toward Elain, you catch the way she blushes. "I don't know," she admits sheepishly. "I was just curious."
"Did you know he told Amarantha to go back to the shit-show she'd crawl out of?" Elain's lips begin to twitch upwards, but your next words prevent the smile from fully forming. "It cost him his eye, unfortunately. "
"Lucien is good male," you speak again, swiftly shifting the topic to something lighter. "He has friends everywhere, in every court. He's the type to do anything for those he holds dear. From what I've heard, he's a pretty generous lover and given he's from Autumn Court, gods are you in for a treat. One night, the Suriel told me that he took a female to--"
"That's okay!" Elain cuts you in sharply, making you laugh.
"Autumn males have fire in their blood and I heard they fuck like it too."
"Feyre!" Elain gasps with wide eyes, her face growing as pink as the roses she just planted.
You're turning to face Feyre with a delighted smirk. "So you know too!"
Elain stands up, brushing her hands on the dress, indifferent to the dirt staining the fabric.
"Where are you going? We were just about to get to the good part." You muse.
"I'm actually going to go see him," Elain admits and before you can any anything, she adds, "I think I'll just ask him what I want to know myself."
You respond with a shrug of your shoulders and wish her good luck. "Have fun!" Feyre calls after her.
After Elain disappears from view, Feyre gracefully settles into the lounge chair next to you. Her blue eyes carefully assess you for a moment. "What else do you know about him?"
You meet her gaze, detecting an unspoken knowledge. "What else do you know?"
You feel her presence asking for entrance in your mind and you let her in, smiling when all she mentally utters is one word. A name, actually. Helion.
His father, you reply back with an all-knowing gleam in your eye. Did you know the Lady of Autumn and him are mates?
Feyre's eyes widen, and she releases a gasp. There's more isn't, there? She speaks into your mind.
Of course there is, you reply back. With a graceful wave of her hand, a complete tea set materializes along with an array of snacks upon the iron table between you.
I sense we'll be here for awhile, she muses to you, blue eyes glimmering with anticipation.
You chuckle as you start to sweeten one of the steaming cups of tea to your liking. Your attention shifts to the untouched third set on the table, and a dull ache settles in your chest as you envision the Suriel, absent yet somehow still present at the table.
As you bring your tea cup to your lips, you proceed to indulge Feyre with every bit of knowledge and gossip you possess about Helion's affair with the Lady of Autumn through your mind.
You don't realize it then, but this day, marks the beginning of what you and Feyre would later name "the Suriel fan club." As time passes on, the club grows more and more, until it becomes a monthly meeting amongst the inner circle.
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The morning after you and Azriel spend the night together for the first time.
Your eyelids flutter, like delicate butterflies stirring from slumber, as the muffled whispers of morning dance in the air. You stir and turn to your side, bringing the warmth of your sheets with you. Your movement causes a chain of reaction and your entire body freezes when you feel an unfamiliar weight come to rest over your side.
It's instinct, the way your fingers grasp for the dagger you keep under your pillow. In a moment of panic, you find yourself straddling a body and pressing your dagger against what you initially thought was an intruder.
"y/n, what are you doing?"
Your eyes snap wide open and memories of the night before flood your mind. You find yourself looking down at Azriel. Your mate, Azriel. Despite the dagger pressed at his throat, he smiles lazily up at you.
"I'm so sorry!" You exclaim with a heated blush, throwing the dagger onto your nightstand, relieved that you didn't knick him on accident. Judging by the way he's looking at you, you don't think he'd mind anyway.
"I'm not used to sharing my bed," you admit sheepishly, sliding off of him and wishing your bed would just swallow you whole at this point.
Taking advantage of your shift in position, Azriel turns on his side and hovers over your body, hazel eyes gleaming down at you. "You sleep with a dagger under your pillow?"
"Yes and?" You retort, a touch too defensively, eliciting laughter from him that sends an infectious warmth coursing through you. A smile tugs at your own lips. "You were listening when I told you I lived between Prythian's forests and shady Inns for many years, right?"
"Of course, I was. I listen to everything you say," Azriel responds smoothly. "It's just..." His voice trails off, and though your gaze remains fixed on his face, you notice him reaching for something in your peripheral vision.
He flashes you a grin as he pulls out his beloved dagger from under the pillow his head was resting on earlier.
"I sleep with a dagger under my pillow too."
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a/n: hope you enjoyed these little scenes! I also wanted to clarify that Elain was starting to think about giving Lucien a chance, even before she found out reader and Az were mates, and it's her finding out about your bond that gives her the confirmation to move forward. She realizes that Azriel won't be alone as he has someone waiting for him (:
tagging: @stormhearty @shinyghosteclipse @justvibbinghere @mybestfriendmademe @aandweaa @loveareum @hellodarling1357
@sassybluebird, @crookedcrusadestranger, @xlosttdreamss, @peachcontour-blog, @shadowandlightt, @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @darlingbravebelle, @scooobies, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @toobsessedsstuff, @kaysav608, @idkitsem, @coffeebeforewater, @rinalsworld, @elissanatok, @mischiefmanagers, @paranoidhwks, @meshellexplosionmurder, @skylling, @irismoon, @addieslibrary, @wildrosewhiskey, @aneekapaneeka, @mx13sworld, @vixemi, @strangersreadingcorner, @aristocrrat, @olive-main, @moonyscherry, @stressed-reader, @alysena2, @heartysworld, @aomi-recs, @vardda, @awritingtree, @sillysillygoose444, @spideytingley, @aria-chikage
I tried tagging everyone who had left a comment or reblog with comment/tags, just in case you were curious to read more about Az & seer reader. Idk why not all tags worked out :(
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Text
Baby, Mine
Azriel x Reader - Angst/Fluff - One shot
Rhys returns from under the mountain and Azriel’s life is changed forever as a bond snaps with the female his brother brings back with him. After an unexpected pregnancy is revealed, Azriel strives to show his mate just how much she and their child mean to him. Please read warnings below.
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Warnings: discussion of rape and S/A, pregnancy resulting from rape, mentions of trauma, language, mention of pregnancy termination
“We should get up. My stomach’s growling.”
“And I thought it was just the little one chatting with my shadows.” Azriel teased, flushing beneath her gaze as his scarred fingers traced lightly over the growing swell of her abdomen, becoming more apparent by the day. He’d been nervous touching it for the first time, like he’d desecrate that precious life force growing underneath with his hands that had inflicted so much pain. But the way her eyes lit up the first time he touched it, he never wanted to forget the feeling of love and joy radiating into him through that newfound bond. It was beautiful - made him feel worthy of helping raise the beautiful life she was bringing into the world.
Though her stomach growled again, she made no move to get up, and by the way her hands were holding onto him, Azriel knew better than to go retrieve a plate from the House of Wind’s kitchen for her. So he sent a shadow beneath the door to see if Nuala or Cerridwen were there and if they could bring leftovers in, that is if Cassian and Mor hadn’t devoured the entire breakfast already.
“How’s she doing?” Rhys asked into his mind.
“Better than some days but not great, Rhys.”
There was a pause before Rhys’ guilty voice reentered his conscious.
“She’s the most selfless person I know, Az. I’m glad you two have eachother. But if she needs anything, if you need anything, let me know.”
And she was. Selfless in a way that Azriel couldn’t fathom. Selfless in a way that made his gut churn, a way he wanted to roar at the moon and the stars, and anyone who would listen. Selfless when she should have never had to be. She was bright and radiant and kind. The world looked at her and saw ethereal sunshine, walking starlight, unfathomable beauty both inside and out. But there was darkness and pain there too, so buried down deep that only Azriel could feel it in the middle of the night as whimpers disrupted her sleep.
So many nights Rhys would have to come in and cradle her mind, send her soothing thoughts and visions of anything beautiful that could mask the perils that haunted her dreams.
Azriel hated himself for it, the jealousy. He wished he could soothe her in that way but no matter how much love he sent through their bond, that darkness rooted itself so deeply within her that sometimes it took significant power from Rhys to reach it.
As if Rhys wasn’t already fighting his own trauma and waging against the insurmountable guilt he carried after being under the mountain, plus worrying about Feyre in the Spring Court. And that wasn’t to say Y/N was a burden in any way, though she felt she was. It killed Azriel to see both his mate and his brother fighting so much grief and not being able to do anything about it.
She’d have been better suited to be Rhysand’s mate than Azriel’s own by their intertwined traumas, by their ability to put themselves aside for a better world. Azriel, of course, fit into this court of dreamers but she… despite only being here for such a short period of time, she was the biggest dreamer of them all.
Another rumble from her stomach snapped Azriel out of his thoughts, mentally noting to Rhys, “She could use breakfast.”
“I’ll send some for both of you. You need to take care of yourself too.”
Azriel smelled the salt of her tears before he saw the silver lining her eyes. Propping himself up on an elbow, draping a wing over her, he began to ask softly, “Hey-“. Her head immediately shaking and she choked on the word, “No.”
“Baby, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a burden. He just wanted to know if you needed anything.”
She took a few deep breaths, willing away those tears. “He doesn’t have to check on me. It’s my f-“
“Stop that. Listen to me, I’m always here to listen to you and I know that you’re dealing with complex emotions and trauma that I cannot even begin to fully fathom but this.. it’s not your fault.”
Her eyes welled up further as Azriel continued,
“I don’t want to lecture you or invalidate what you are feeling. Your emotions are justified but… these thoughts will eat you alive, they’re vicious lies that have been conditioned into you, and I can promise you that nobody blames anything on you. This entire family is so fucking grateful to have you as a part of it. In a world of darkness, where you had every right, every reason to bring that darkness with you, you chose light.”
He choked on his words as those tears flowed down her face. “You chose light when it only brought more darkness upon yourself.”
She cut him off. “She’s not darkness.”
Azriel raised an eyebrow. “She?”
And through her tears, he saw the slightest gleam of radiance in her eyes. “I can just feel it. Feel her.”
Azriel pressed a kiss to Y/N’s belly. “Yes, you are absolutely right. She is not darkness - she’s a beacon of light, the brightest star in the sky, perhaps aside from her mother - but the mental load you are carrying, it is dark and it’s heavy. And yes, you would carry darkness with you regardless of this spark of hope” he rubbed her belly in tender circles for emphasis. “But I know that mind of yours. That you are telling yourself that you’re a burden, that you made the wrong choice, when there was no wrong choice.”
At this point, the tears were streaming down her face, his shadows dutifully whisking them away, but only gratitude and love flowed from her.
A knock came on the door. Azriel’s eyes glazed over as Y/N recognized the telltale signs of what was happening. A line creased in his brow before she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay, he can come in.”
“You sure, my love? He understands when you need space.”
She nodded. “I know but I think I need to see him today.” Azriel brushed his thumb in soothing ministrations across her abdomen until she pulled her night gown back down to cover herself.
The door creaked open and Rhys padded over to the bed, guilt and adoration limning his features. “Hey, starshine.” She blushed at the term. She hated her own name after Amarantha had called it so many times under the mountain. Rhys had begun calling her Starshine in secret due to her Day Court origins and the fact that he was convinced she’d been more suited for the Night Court.
Rhys had been drawn to her under the mountain, something about her reminding him of his brother. Rhysand could admit that Azriel was the most beautiful of the three brothers, his features seemingly crafted by the gods themselves. But if Azriel’s features were crafted by the gods, Y/N’s were crafted by the Mother herself. Aside from that, she had a quiet presence, though far less stoic and broody than Azriel’s, it was more of a quiet, gentle grace. A grace that Amarantha had tried so hard to shed her of but was never quite successful.
Amarantha, of course, made it her mission to both seek pleasure from her and torment her. When she never fully broke, Amarantha decided that instead of throwing her to the dark corridors she stuffed most lesser fae in, she’d make an excellent play thing. She looked mostly High Fae after all, yet had enhanced sexual appeal due to her nymph ancestry - perfect high and round breasts, long legs, a firm yet supple ass, and an arousing scent - needless to say, Amarantha delighted to add her to her roster of bed chamber accompaniment.
Y/N and Rhys developed a quiet understanding of each other and the roles they were forced to play in the year that she’d been under the mountain before Feyre arrived. They did not grow close enough for Amarantha to become concerned but enough that she knew her play things got along well enough to bring them both into her chambers at the same time.
Rhys would never forget the first time Amarantha had forced he and her into her chambers at the same time. Y/N tried to be strong, and she was. Another aspect of her that reminded him of his brother.
But she began to crack slightly, and Rhys knew Amarantha would make it so much worse for her if she did. So he did the only thing he knew to do and held her mind. He showed her visions of the Night Skies of the Night Court, the spirits of Starfall, the laughter of a family surrounding a table in a beloved restaurant, anything that could help her through it.
As he held her mind, she’d unwittingly sent visions from throughout her twenty-two years of life prior to being captured and brought under the mountain. She was loved deeply by her family who had little more than love to give. Eventually they had been murdered by Amarantha’s cronies at the age of nineteen - she’d been able to escape and live among the High Fae who sneered and objectified her, but offered enough coin to sleep with her to keep a roof over her head.
Rhys had determined that night that if they ever made it out of there alive, he was taking her to Velaris with him. She’d never live like that again.
He even smiled at the thought of introducing her and Azriel when she was ready to meet his family, already picturing his brother’s rose-dusted cheeks in her presence.
“Thank you” Azriel’s low voice withdrew Rhys from his thoughts, taking the plate from his hands.
A familiar scent wafted off of Rhys to Y/N. Pregnancy had heightened her sense of smell substantially.
As she sniffed the air Rhys gave a soft, sad smile at the eye brow she raised at him before asking, “Where is she?”
He shook his head, darkness rolling in waves off of him. “Tamlin locked her in his fucking manor. She had a breakdown.”
Her face drew tight. “That bastard!” Azriel flinched at the rage flowing down the bond. “She must have been terrified.”
“She certainly terrified the servants in his manor. She shrouded herself in darkness and nobody could get through to her.”
“He doesn’t deserve her.”
Rhys nodded. “He doesn’t.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Rhys. Where is she?”
“At the Town House.”
Her eyes blew wide. “Cauldron boil me, is she staying?”
Azriel smiled as he felt her excitement flow into him. A bit of that Day Court sunshine returning to her.
“I don’t know. She knows she can’t tell anyone if she goes back, but…”
“I felt it through the bond, Y/N. I think she’s here to stay.”
Azriel’s shadows agitated at the pause in verbal conversation, chattering back and forth,
“Secrets”
“Secrets”
He rolled his eyes and dismissed them, already knowing there were some things that remained between just Y/N and Rhys. He’d accepted it the very moment he’d shown up after he received word that Rhys was finally home and the bond snapped as soon as he laid eyes upon the radiant female by his side. He knew it snapped for her too when she walked right up to him, touched the hands he tried to hide behind his back, her eyes speaking everything she couldn’t. “I see your scars. I bear them too.” And pressed a kiss to each hand.
“Do you want me to leave? I assume she’s at the Town House but I’m sure she’ll be visiting here too, yes?”
Azriel bristled. No way in hell was Rhys going to make his mate leave, whether this home was his or not, she had a right to be present wherever she wished.
“Easy brother.”
Azriel shook off the feeling. The mating instinct was still so strong that he had a hard time not jumping in to defend her at the thought of any threat, physical or emotional.
“Y/N” Rhys took her hand.
“Don’t bite my head off for holding her hand, either.”
Azriel huffed before firing back to Rhys’ mind “I can’t wait for you to find your mate someday so you can see what it feels like to be so wound up like this.”
Rhys only gave a small, secret smile in return.
Y/N interjected. “Are you two done gossiping or can I know whether I should pack up or not?”
“This is your home just as much as it is my home. You are my family and I want Feyre to meet all of you. Cassian has already barreled through the door of the Town House along with Mor begging to be fed. Feyre went up to nap and recollect herself.”
“Can we have dinner with her… if she wants to?” She asked softly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness to her voice.
Rhys gave a nod. “I was thinking that same thing. Would you be comfortable?”
She nodded before the reality of the situation caught up with her.
“Y/N.” Rhys leaned in, gently tilting her head up to look at him. “I am not ashamed of you. I will never hide you or the life you are selflessly bringing into this Court of Dreamers.” His eyes lined with silver. “And I will always be so proud of the love that you both share. I knew from the moment I met you that my brother would adore you. And the fact that you two are mates? It’s one of the greatest things to come from that shit hole of a mountain. A reminder of the beauty that can prevail, even after the most dreadful of circumstances. I love all three of you.”
Azriel held his mate closely, ensuring she felt just how loved she truly was.
“She kicked for the first time the other day.”
Rhys raised a brow.
Y/N let out a sigh. “Ugh, you two are so skeptical. I really believe that this baby is a girl.”
Rhys eyed the scarred hand protectively placed over her round bump, so many complicated emotions running through him, with love being the strongest.
“Feyre will likely ask questions tonight regarding all of us, our stories. Nobody has to share anything they do not wish to, but you also may share if you are comfortable doing so. I would really like for Feyre to become a member of the Inner Circle-“
Rhys looked to Y/N rolling his eyes at the smirk and waggling eyebrows she gave him.
“Stop that. My point is just that, I would like for her to know all of you. I know she’ll love you all just as I do. Hell, she’ll probably love all of you before she’s ready to even fully tolerate me.”
Azriel let out a chuckle as his mate quipped “Tell me the story of the time she threw a shoe at you. It’s my favorite!”
“You cruel, lovely little thing.” Rhys laughed. “See you both for dinner.”
As Rhys exited them room, Y/N sighed. “You were awfully quiet.”
Az nudged her. “And that surprises you?”
“Okay, quieter than usual.”
Azriel pulled her in close, peppering kisses across her forehead. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. You are still healing and now you’ll be facing someone else that was under the mountain with you.”
“She saved us all, Az.” She looked up into his hazel eyes with nothing but genuine adoration. “Without her, I never would have met you. And what kind of existence would that be?”
She began picking at the plate Rhys had brought in. Letting out a moan as the flavors burst on her tongue.
Az couldn’t help the involuntary twitch of his wings at the sound.
She laughed. “Don’t get any ideas until I’m finished with my food.”
Azriel raised his palms. “I’d never get between my pregnant mate and her meal. With the way she’s started moving, she’d likely kick me away anyway.”
She took another bite while nonchalantly commenting, “I thought of a name for her.”
“Oh yeah?” Azriel’s brows raised in anticipation of a potential name for their child.
“Azure. The same blue as the skies. I thought…”
Azriel cut her off, marveling at the name. Whispering more to himself than her. “Blue like the Day Court skies, blue like the skies that I love to take you flying in.”
She flushed. “Yes, exactly. And though it’s a different shade of blue, like your siphons.”
A lone tear escaped his eye. “And,” she continued with a coy smile. “We could call her ‘Az’”
Azriel sat still for a moment. And she would have thought he didn’t like it had it not been the rush of pure shock and awe flowing through the bond.
Suddenly he took her face in his hands, barely giving her time to swallow the bite of bacon she’d just taken, and crashed his lips into hers. And after her lips were swollen and puffy from the heat of his lips, he began pressing kisses all over her belly, whispering between them, “I love you, little Az. I love you more than the skies I fly in. More than my own name. More than any dreamer could dream of being loved. I can’t wait to fly you through the open skies, and show you every shade of blue this beautiful world has to offer. Nothing in this world matters more than you and your mother. I couldn’t be more proud to be your father.”
And he meant it. Every single word. The blood running through the baby growing inside of his mate didn’t need to be his, what mattered was the love flowing within the child and he intended to pour every single ounce of love he had into their baby.
It was Y/N though who broke down at those words. She and Azriel had spent every free moment together since meeting. He’d healed her in ways that she never could have dreamed. Finding her mate changed the time after Under the Mountain from the lonesome trauma reckoning hellhole she’d anticipated and into a time of healing. He listened to her, understood her, let her set the pace in every aspect. And he’d shared his trauma with her, all of it.
The child who had been abused by a wicked stepmother and horrid step-brothers, overlooked by his own father had grown up to be loving, caring, and patient in every way. And now, he was going to be the parent of a child that was not his by conception, choosing to love the child just as he would his very own. A vow he’d sworn in their mating vows and sealed with a bargain.
“What is it, love?” Azriel wiped away her tears.
“Stupid hormones. I just love you so much and I need you to know that you are so much more than I ever could have dreamed of. If I had to, I would go through it all again as long as it led me to you.”
Azriel’s eyes began watering again. “Look at us, Y/N. We’re quite a sight. Whatever you say tonight, just don’t let Cassian know that I’ve gotten so soft.”
Her glassy eyes sparkled as she gave a sweet smile. “I have a feeling that softness has already been there, my love, I just had the privilege of coaxing it out of you.”
He smiled. “Truth Teller personified.”
————————-
“We’re heading up now.” Rhys’ voice cut into Y/N’s mind.
“Are you sure about this, Rhys? Most of them do not know what all happened under the mountain. What if it’s too much for Feyre to take in?”
“She’s my mate, I have to hope that she will love and accept us all in time. It may be a lot to meet us and hear our stories but they’re a part of us, a part of loving us. I’m worried about Cassian scaring her off more than anything.”
“Valid concern. See you soon. Despite the circumstances, I’m so happy she’s here.”
“You know,” Rhys chuckled. “I feel the same way about you, Starshine.”
“You flatter me. Now enjoy your flight with the literal girl of your dreams.”
“She’s glaring daggers at me right now. Pray I make it there alive.”
“Where’d you go?” Az nudged.
Leaning into her mate’s side, embracing the warmth of his arms wrapped around her shoulders she replied, “Rhys and Feyre are on the way.”
“Are you ready for this?” He asked.
“I’m sure you can already feel my nerves down the bond but I appreciate you for asking.” She teased.
Azriel kept his pace slow as they wound through the hallways of the House of Wind toward the dining table. “If you’re not ready…”
She took a steadying breath. “No, he needs to get off on a solid foundation with her. And Cassian, Mor, and Amren have eyed us for a while, they realize that something is off. Plus, I mean, look at this thing.” Her delicate hands found her stomach. “They’re going to figure out that the timelines don’t match up soon enough.”
“Our girl IS growing.” Azriel spoke, not missing the opportunity to feel the life growing within his mate.
She teased, “You’ve referred to the babe as “her” a few times now. Coming around to the idea?”
“I know better than to go against your intuition.”
With that, Y/N gave a wicked grin. “Mother knows best.”
As they approached the dining room, Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right by your side.”
She beamed. “And I’ll be by yours too, with whatever you may share tonight…and forever, of course.”
As everyone arrived and gathered at the dining table, Y/N couldn’t help but admire how lovely Feyre and Rhys were together. Though she hated the situation that brought her there, that Tamlin tried to hoard her away in his manor, she couldn’t help but feel joy knowing that she was finally beginning to see the true Rhysand.
The Inner Circle kept up with the typical antics and plenty of laughter filled the space, but the conversation eventually turned more serious as everyone took turns giving Feyre insight into themselves.
Feyre looked to Y/N with curiosity. “You were under the mountain, but Azriel was not?”
Her hands shook as she prepared to share. A warmth covered them as Azriel gave a gentle squeeze, sending waves of that reassurance in abundance. She took a breath.
She began by sharing the background of her family, their deaths, that she’d sold her body to survive afterward, how she’d only been under the mountain for a year before Feyre arrived.
“You didn’t know Azriel before they took you?” Feyre asked. Not harshly, just inquisitively.
Y/N held her head high. Her story was not one to be ashamed of.
“I did not. Rhys was one of the only souls to show me kindness under the mountain. I have nymph ancestry with primarily High Fae features. Amarantha took an interest in me and….”
An unreadable expression covered Rhys’ face. This was his trauma too, but he gave a reassuring nod.
“She began taking me to her chambers. I had no choice. It was warm her bed, or face physical torture until death.”
Feyre flinched along with Rhys. Y/N recognized that they were remembering the human girl Amarantha had tortured to death just before Feyre’s arrival.
“She also, against our hopes, realized that Rhysand and I had an understanding of eachother - serve her or die. Being the lust-driven wretch that she was, she began taking us both to her chambers. There was no room for weakness in there. She wanted us just weak enough to submit to her, but we had to remain strong in every other aspect. The first time she had Rhys and I, together,” she cleared her throat, giving pause before continuing, “Rhys saved me. I began to crack, and he held my mind. I will let Rhys speak on his own trauma and the mental load he carried, but he didn’t hesitate to help me get through it. It was not the last time he had to help me through it.”
The table was completely silent. Heart-wrenching expressions filled each face at the table. Palpable rage could be felt radiating off of Amren, though her face remained straight.
Her voice began cracking. Azriel pulled her close into him. “When you saved us,” She looked to Feyre. “I don’t mean to fawn or gawk over you, but Feyre, you did save us.” Feyre gave an empathetic look, nodding to Y/N to continue. “Rhys brought me back to Velaris because he couldn’t bear for me to return to the life I was living, because this Court of Dreams is made up of individuals who have lived through terrible traumas and, despite every reason to lead bitter lives- have chosen to dream of a better world. To fight for a better world. And he knew a certain Shadowsinger and I would get on quite well. In fact, he’s been a smug bastard ever since over just how well things went between us.”
“When I met him.” She stared lovingly to Azriel who swallowed a lump in his throat. “The bond snapped between us immediately. The same day I was brought here, I met my mate.”
Instinctively she placed her hands on the swell of her abdomen. “Rhys gave Azriel leave to spend time with me, for him to help me through the aftermath of what I’d been through…”
“But two weeks after arriving back, my scent began to shift.” Mor’s brows furrowed in contemplation.
“I became very sick shortly after that. Rhys called in a healer, Madja, who confirmed that I was two and a half months pregnant.”
Cassian audibly gasped and Mor murmured “Oh my gods.”
Azriel kept his composure for the sake of his mate, but this was killing him. His brother and his mate being forced by that fucking witch. “Azriel is not the biological father of this baby. The child was conceived under the forced coupling of Rhysand and I by Amarantha.”
Feyre’s face was a mix of sadness, and rage, and sympathy.
“There were options to terminate the pregnancy. However, due to my Nymph ancestry, such options can have negative, potentially deadly effects. Aside from that, though I never planned to have a child - I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another family member. Rhys, after losing his family, felt the same, which he only expressed after I shared my feelings with him. He was completely supportive of any decision I made.” Feyre looked to Rhys and then back to Y/N, no negative judgement written on those lovely features.
Y/N looked to Azriel with a loving grin “And Azriel- he took me to a priestess that night. We both wanted to accept the bond from the moment we met, the connection was unbelievably strong, I never believed in the power of the bond until I found him. And now because he’s ever the romantic, though I see him already blushing at the mention of it, he wanted to make a vow before the Mother - a vow to love me no matter what choice I made, a vow to love the life within me as his very own child, to love and cherish us both until his last breath.”
She pulled the sleeve off of her shoulder, revealing the intricate tattoo solidifying his vow.
“And Rhys,” She gave a soft smile. “He made a bargain to love and care for this child and to recognize Azriel as its father. We will not hide the parentage from our child. And Rhys, I know, already loves them dearly, but mine and Azriel’s decisions for our baby come first and will be respected as any biological parents would.”
She’d left out the part where Azriel had gone under the mountain to investigate later on and found that Amarantha had begun supplying a fertility tonic instead of birth control to Y/N after the Calanmai that Rhys had gone to the Spring Court and seen Feyre. Though she didn’t know who Rhys saw, she likely suspected he’d developed interest in someone else and become jealous, hoping an accidental pregnancy would either create a rift in any potential relationship or, even worse, that the baby could be used as leverage against him.
The table remained silent until Rhys chimed in. “So my brother is my child’s father. I’m sure stranger things have happened.”
Despite that sadness the Inner Circle felt, Rhysand’s comment elicited smiles. Azriel gave his brother a nod of thanks for breaking the tension while affectionately caressing his mate.
Mor eased the tension further by chiming in “Y/N! You are further along than we realized which means….. we get to go shopping for our newest family member sooner!!!”
Feyre decided soon after that she would like to work with the Court of Dreams.
————————-
Epilogue
Because his mate was always right, Azriel was indeed the father of a beautiful little girl, clever and stubborn like her mother, and the light of his life. Her mother the sun, and she the moon.
He and Rhys had just returned from taking “Baby Azzie” who was now a toddler to get pastries along the Sidra. Azriel returned with his half-asleep daughter in his arms, who perked up upon seeing her baby brother cooing in his bassinet. “Nyxie!!” She yelled, hurrying over to the winged babe. Rhys, however, arrived with numerous shopping bags in his own arms.
Feyre, who had been lounging with her head on Y/N’s shoulder gave the two a big smile. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “All of that better be for Nyx.”
Azriel and Rhys shared a laugh before Rhys spoke. “Well, half of it is, but only because someone batted her little lashes at us repeating ‘Brother, present. Brother, present’ until we took her into what is conveniently her favorite toy store.” Az cut in, “And because my brother is getting soft in his old age” before Rhys could remind Azriel that he was, in fact, the older of the two, Az continued, “Rhys had to buy something for her for every item she picked out for Nyx.”
Y/N groaned. “Cassian literally just bought her five new toys and six new outfits on their last outing.”
The raven-haired toddler with her mother’s nose and radiant skin, Rhys’ smile, and by some gift of the Mother - had Azriel’s golden-flecked hazel eyes, toddled up to Feyre, giving her a big hug. She then turned to her mother, leaning in to whisper something, that came out as quietly as a yell. “I got something for sissy too. Daddy has it in the pocket realm.”
Y/N’s face flushed as Rhys and Feyre gaped. “So much for keeping that a secret for a little longer.”
Feyre squealed leaning in and throwing her arms around Y/N. “I thought that maybe I was getting allergies, your scent hasn’t been as strong but you were glamouring it!”
Rhys pulled Azriel into a long hug, then walked over to Y/N with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Azriel placed a hand on his chest as he took in the sight of his blended family. It wasn’t what he’d ever expected but, to him, it was everything.
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imaginesmai · 2 months
Text
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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bat-boys · 4 days
Text
besotted
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 3.7k
warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff
summary: Rhys and Feyre have asked you to babysit Nyx for the day, meaning to get to spend the whole time enjoying one of your favourite weaknesses: your mate cuddling cute babies.
a/n: thank you so much for the love, it's been so lovely 🫶🏻. this fic is completely self-indulgent - I don't even want children but the thought of handsome men with babies? lord have mercy. My inbox is always open for a chat or fic suggestions /requests. Enjoy loves.
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Velaris was truly stunning in every season, every weather, at any time of day, but for you, your favourite time in the city was during the height of summer. When the weather was perfect, the warmth not too stifling, and the evenings cool, the sun glistened on the smooth water of the Sidra, and the air was filled with the soft chattering and laughter of its citizens that lasted well into the evening.
A soft grin played on your lips as you strolled through the streets of the city you had grown up in, the warm breeze gently blowing the gauzy material of your trousers and licking at the stretch of skin exposed at the waist due to the cropped top you wore - the beautiful outfit a gift from your close friend Amren who shared your sense of style. Your confident and sure steps took you past familiar shops, filled to the brim with their exquisite wares as you approached the handful of shops you needed to visit. 
As you neared the first shop you needed to visit, you turned your head slightly when you felt one of those familiar shadows that followed you everywhere. It slipped up your arm and affectionally curled around the skin between where your shoulder met your neck. The darkness cooled your warm skin, causing a soft smile to fall on your lips when you thought of the man to whom they belonged. Since being mated to Azriel, a handful of his shadows were always with you, and you had grown very fond of your own little shadows. According to the spymaster, they had left him on their own accord, feeling as protective of you as their master did. They acted almost as a messenger service between you and your mate. 
"Are you okay, babe? One of your shadows just tapped me on the shoulder." As you entered the small shop, you spoke gently through that sparkling, glimmering thread you shared with your favourite person in the whole wide world. 
"When are you heading back?" His deep, midnight-laced voice slipped into your mind, and you had to hold back the involuntary shudder as you touched one of the children's toys hanging on a rack before you. 
"Why are you missing me already, Az?" Judging by the chuckle you heard that echoed in your head, he could practically hear the teasing smirk in your words. 
"Always, sweetheart." There was a pause, and your eyebrows furrowed. You realized that something was actually amiss, and he wanted you home. "Nyx is fussing, and I don't know what to do."
This time, you chuckled out loud as you grabbed the toy from the rack and took it to the counter at the back of the shop to pay for it. You smiled gently at the shopkeeper, who warmly greeted you.
"He's probably hungry, babe; give him one of those bottles Feyre left. They're in the fridge." Rhys and Feyre had to attend a last-minute meeting today with the Court of Nightmares and Eris from the Autumn Court. They politely asked if you and Azriel could babysit Nyx on short notice. Initially, Azriel had put up a bit of a fuss, arguing that he needed to be there at the meeting, but Rhys had reasoned that Cassian would be there, as would Mor and Amren. Plus, he would show Az everything through his daemati ability. Feyre had sweetened the blow by telling Az you and him were Nyx's favourite aunt and uncle and that they trusted him the most to look after their precious son. 
You had beamed at Azriel's shocked face, winking at Rhys as you had shared in your amusement. Azriel was absolutely besotted with the tiny babe and would protect him with his life if needed. You had no doubt Azriel would immediately sacrifice his life for Nyx, no questions asked. Privately, you had agreed entirely with the idea of you and Azriel protecting Nyx from a security perspective - both of you ready to use your extensive abilities to protect the tiny fae - but also because it meant you could watch Azriel cuddle the baby. In the last couple of months, it had become one of your favourite weaknesses when it came to the shadowsinger. 
"Oh yeah, ok." Relief washed down the bond as he moved towards the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge, remembering how to warm it and test its temperature. 
"You've babysat Nyx before, Az; you're a natural at this—trust your instincts, babe." You assured him as you passed the money over to the shopkeeper, gave her a warm smile, thanked her, and took the small bag she set on her counter. Wishing her a goodbye, you left the shop and stepped back into the warm streets of Velaris, heading towards the next shop. 
"I've never babysat him before on my own!" You could practically hear the panic in his voice, and you shook your head absentmindedly at his lack of confidence in something he was exceptionally good at. 
"You're his favourite uncle for a reason, Az! I won't be long, promise." 
"Hurry back, sweetheart. I miss you too." A warm caress reached you through the bond, accompanied by the feeling of his shadows sliding up your thigh, the phantom feeling of his hands on your skin causing you to jolt ever so slightly. Wicked little things.
You had been hesitant to leave the Town House, which you and Az now called yours, this afternoon, but with Nyx arriving at such short notice, you needed more time to get some supplies in. You desperately needed some baby stuff and food for both yourself and your mate. You were just exchanging money with the butcher when you felt another frantic pulse through your bond. 
"Babe, he's crying again! He's had the whole bottle." You sent your mate a pulse of affection through his bond, trying to calm him down as you slid the package of food you had just brought into one of your bags. 
"Sweetheart, you need to burp him now." You gently reminded him. 
"Oh shit yeah." You laughed at your mate, drawing some strange looks from passersby, which caused a slight blush to rise on your cheeks. 
"No cursing around the baby!" This time, you felt Azriel's amusement through the bond, a warm beat of laughter that you would spend forever trying to coax from him - his laughter, deep, rich and full, was one of your favourite sounds.
"He can't hear me." He reasoned, his voice now calm now that you had given him a plan of action. He thrived in coordination and planning, able to adapt in times of chaos, but he preferred a detailed and methodical approach to everything. Even in the bedroom. 
As you stepped out of the final shop, your purchases swinging from your hands, your face turned up to catch the afternoon rays as they gently warmed your face, you felt another shadow creep up your arm to practically tap on your shoulder. 
"Fuck, now he's crying so loud I think he might bring the roof down!" Azriel was panicking again, and you could imagine him running his slender fingers through his hair - tuffs of midnight black standing up in a messy array as he started to pace.
"Az, calm down - he needs to sleep." In the Town House, Azriel felt a wave of calm wash over him as he listened to your levelled voice. No hint of irritation or annoyance in your voice. Even after all these years, he still had to fight his instincts that told him you would get tired of him and his pestering, overprotectiveness or panic, but you had been steadfast the entire time. Making sure he felt supported and loved through everything, and he could never be so grateful for the connection you had built together, the love you shared and the life you had crafted with each other. 
"I've tried putting him down, but he screams louder." He sounded tired, and you had to stop yourself from teasing, knowing that wasn't what he needed right now. 
"Pick him up. He probably wants you to cuddle him while he falls asleep." If you were being honest, you couldn't blame Nyx. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, compares to Azriel's cuddles. You always felt so safe, so protected, and so comforted in his arms.
"Ok, yeah, I can do that. Gods, why are you so good at this love." You chuckled at the exasperation in his voice. Azriel must have been so agitated because, through the bond, he sent you images of him gently picking up a crying Nyx, his sweet face red and crumpled as he cried, and holding him to his chest. You tried so hard not to focus on those broad, beautiful, strong, scarred hands as they firmly held Nyx, thoughts of how he had held you last night entering into your mind unbidden and causing you to stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the path you were walking, "Careful love." You felt Az chuckle. 
"Ass." You felt his amusement through the bond and his relief as Nyx began to calm down and snuggled into Azriel. "You're a natural at this, Az, though. I'm nearly home."
"See you soon, love." At the sound of his husky voice, filled with love, you felt your pace pick up as you made your way towards the beautiful home you shared, eager to get home to your waiting mate. 
The Town House was quiet and bathed in darkness when you stepped inside. Trying to make as little noise as possible, you carefully set your bags on the entryway floor and slipped your shoes off, the cool wooden floor of the house soothing your hot feet. 
A handful of shadows flew through the air towards you, darting around your body and playfully getting tangled up in your hair and clothes. They whispered at you to be quiet and told you that Azriel and Nyx were in the main living room. 
With a grin on your face, you tip-toed over to the doorway to the living room and leaned against the frame as you took in the heartwarming scene before you. You had to physically stop the tears brimming in your eyes as you gazed at your mate, gently napping on the sofa with a content and fast asleep Nyx resting on his chest, softly snoring in the way only babes can. 
The scene before you was so soft and sweet that you indulged yourself for a moment, picturing your own child fast asleep on your mate's strong chest. You stared for a while, marvelling at the beauty of Azriel. His strong arms were exposed due to his sleeveless top, his Illyrian tattoos proudly swirling around his dark skin - arms you know would hold you close in the dead of night, keep you standing when you were weak and protect you until the ends of the earth. His soft, slightly curled, midnight hair gently fell on his proud forehead, making him look almost boyish and not the formidable man he presented to the rest of the world. His soft, full lips that were parted slightly in sleep. His strong jaw and proud nose, his sculpted body and thick thighs. He truly was heaven-sent.  
"I can feel you staring." He mumbled through the bond, and you had to stifle a soft laugh. Of course, Azriel wouldn't be entirely asleep - he rarely was; at least some part of him was always awake and alert. You think the only times Az had ever wholly given in to peaceful sleep was those precious weeks after you had accepted your mating bond when he was so tired and content to be next to you and holding you close that he couldn't resist falling into a deep slumber. But only after he had made sure the wards protecting the secluded cabin were still secure, ever the spymaster. 
You pushed away from the doorframe and padded towards where your mate was sitting. He opened his eyes slightly, still sleepy from his brief nap, and his lips curled into a warm smile as you approached. 
"Hi, love." You whispered as you bent over the back of the sofa to grip his face and press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Kissing Az was something you would never get over, even after decades together. The feel of his plush but slightly chapped lips against yours, his delicious taste and scent enveloping your senses, had your toes curling against the cold wooden floor. 
"I'm so glad you're back." You beamed at him as you stared at his upside-down face, gently stroking his jaw and feeling the slight stubble against the soft skin of your hands. 
"Seems like you've got it handled," you teased as you turned your attention to the sleeping child on Azriel's chest. You reached out a hand to gently brush Nyx's soft hair off his forehead, desperately holding in the coo that threatened to leave your lips as he let out a soft sigh and nestled further into Az's chest. Who could blame him, you thought? You had the exact same favourite sleeping position. 
"You're definitely better at this than me," he mumbled as you skirted around the sofa to sit beside your mate. He ever so slowly and ever so gently shifted so as not to wake Nyx so you could tuck yourself into his side. His arm curled around your shoulders to bring you closer, planting a gentle kiss on your temple. 
"How long has Nyx been asleep?" you whispered as you snuggled closer to your mate, hand reaching out to gently stroke up and down Nyx's back in a soothing manner you knew he liked.
"About 20 minutes." You hummed, proud of Azriel for handling the situation. He had been so nervous around the babe when he was first born—so conscious of the tiny, breakable fae he now felt some reasonability for.
"I'd say you've had it completely covered, babe." Nyx stirred ever so slightly, and you knew from experience that you had exactly 5 minutes before he woke up and was agitated again due to not sleeping enough. 
A soft hum filled the quiet air as you got up and gently took the sleeping child from Azriel, whispering soothing noises. He stirred slightly as you manoeuvred him into your arms. You bounced ever so slightly on your toes, continuing to hum a lullaby you had heard Feyre singing to him the other day as you walked over to the travelling crib Azriel had set up next to the sofa. Ever so gently, you lowered Nyx into the plush mattress, stroking a finger down his cheeks in a way you knew he liked as you watched him settle back to sleep. 
Azriel just sat back, arms spread out on the back of the sofa behind him, as he watched you so expertly soothe Nyx. He could practically feel his eyes turning into hearts as he watched you, almost unable to control the all-consuming feeling of love that was threatening to spill from him. He loved you so much and had done so for hundreds of years, but in recent months, watching you become so enamoured by your nephew, a new tentative love grew. 
You turned around, and Azriel offered you one of his sweet smiles before holding out an outstretched hand and silently bidding you to return to his side. With a matching grin, you took his hand and let him pull you in beside him before shifting you both, so you were lying down on the sofa, both facing Nyx as Azriel wound his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest. 
A feeling of absolute contentment flooded Azriel as you lay there, breathing in your sweet scent and kissing your soft hair. You shifted closer to him, fingers stroking over his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Mirroring smiles danced on your lips as you watched your nephew and enjoyed the comfortable silence that had settled over the Town House.
"I love seeing you with Nyx Az." You whispered into the soft silence, and you felt a pulse of utter adoration through the thread you both shared. 
"Hmmm, do you, love?" He mumbled into your hair, an ear-splitting grin stretching on his lips. He was unable to deny that primal part of him that basked in the glow of your words—that you had admitted enjoying seeing him with children. 
"It's my ultimate weakness." He chuckled softly. 
"Seeing you with him is mine, too," he confessed back, his arms loosening as you turned around to face him. For a minute, you just looked at him, eyes drinking in his handsome face, flitting over his lips and his nose before settling on his hazel eyes, which were gazing at you with such emotion that a lump formed at the back of your throat. 
Slowly, lazily, you brought your hand up to trace the features of his face before gently pushing a soft curl of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. The ring he had gifted you nearly 60 years ago glinted in the dim light. 
"Have you ever considered it?" You whispered shyly. It wasn't a topic you had discussed with Azriel much; there simply hadn't been enough time. Shortly after the bond had snapped for the both of you - after years of pining and yearning for each other - Rhys had gone under the mountain. You had spent those long years trying to hold everyone together, and then Rhys had returned, and you had been focused on bringing him and Feyre back from that dark place where they had found themselves. Then, the devastating war you had all been plunged into. It had not been an environment you could ever bring a child into. 
"What?" He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the words come from your lips. 
"Having children of our own?" The words felt fragile between you. Deep down, you knew you were both on the same page, but still, this was not a conversation you had had before. The soft smile dancing on Az's lips soothed you, however, as he, too, brought his hand up to delicately trace your features. 
"I didn't think I would ever get the opportunity to be a father, certainly didn't think I would be a good one. But seeing you with Nyx these last couple of months…yeah, I have." His confession was soft, and you couldn't help yourself as you closed that small distance between you two to press your lips to his in a kiss that held a promise and contained all of the love you could ever feel for the male. His arms wrapped tightly around you again as he held you close and lost himself in the delicious feeling of your lips on his. 
You broke away gently, slowly, languidly, eyes still closed as you leaned in to press short kisses to his lips. Resting your forehead against his, you stayed there, breathing him in, hands softly caressing his face. "You will be such a good dad, Az. You will be patient, kind and considerate. Fun when you want to be, firm when you need to be, and comforting when they're sad or frustrated. I've thought about it too." You made sure you delivered the words whilst looking him in the eyes, conveying just how much you meant the words.
"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse, and you spotted tears brimming in his beautiful eyes, your heart breaking in your chest at the fact that he had so desperately needed to hear the words. You leaned in to kiss his lips again, hand resting on his chest to feel his thundering heart as he breathed in a shaky breath. 
"I don't think I'm ready just yet. I still want to experience life with you," you whispered, an amused smirk playing on your lips. You hadn't had enough time with Az yet. There was still so much of the world to see, so many things you wanted to explore with just your mate before you put down roots and grew a beautiful family of your own. 
"I feel the same." He reassured, pulling you closer again, desperate to make sure not a single inch of space was between you two. 
"But when the time is right, when we are ready. It would bring me nothing but joy to have children together." A stunning smile you had not seen before stretched across Azriel's face, and you gasped at the powerful pulse that reverberated down the bond from your mate. It was pure light—beautiful, gleaming light—such happiness radiating from between you two that you imagined both of your skins glowing with it. 
"I love you so much, Y/N." He said reverently. 
"I love you too." The distance between your lips closed again as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen in - determined to convey just how much you love him, how thankful you are to the Mother and the Cauldron for giving you, Azriel as your mate. You felt him moan softly as you slipped your tongue past the seam of his lips, gently licking into his mouth as you swallowed the soft sounds you were both making. You pulled away with a mischievous grin dancing on your lips, "Gods, our kids would be cute."
"Do you think so?" He asked, pushing your hair behind your pointed ears so he could see your face clearly.
"What, you don't?" You asked in mock shock and horror, causing another chuckle to rumble through his chest. 
"As long as they take after you, sweetheart, they will be the cutest children Prythian has ever seen." You laughed at him, but secretly, you hoped they looked nothing like you and took after the incredible man you had been mated to for all of these years—that they had his kind eyes, gentle smile, and luxurious locks of soft midnight hair.
"I can't wait." You whispered as you laid your head down beside him, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent of mist and cedar, the smell of home. 
"Neither can I, my love." He whispered back to you as he held you close, kissing your hairline and temple. You both let your heavy eyelids droop as your limbs tangled on the sofa. Nyx continued to sleep softly beside you. One day soon, it would be your child in that crib, you promised yourself and Az through that golden thread deep in your heart before you both fell peacefully asleep. 
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