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#a court of thorns and roses oneshot
captainsophiestark · 2 months
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Come Here Often?
Cassian x Reader
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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)
Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses
Summary: Everyone in the Inner Circle knows Cassian and Y/N have feelings for each other, except the two idiots in question. Thankfully, the IC's not known for minding their own business, especially in matters like this.
Word Count: 1,772
Category: Fluff, Humor
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"Are you sure you don't want to go see a show at the Ampitheater tonight?" I asked, trying to give Mor a guilt trip with no more than a look as we carried bags towards the river house. She just scoffed at my attempt.
"I already told you, I can't. I wish I could, but our lovely High Lord has me doing work all night tonight."
I huffed. "Fine. Let me know if I can do anything to help with the work, since I'm losing my theater buddy."
Mor shot me a grin. "I'm sure you could find somebody to replace me if you really wanted to."
I narrowed my eyes at her. I knew what she wasn't saying: that I should invite Cassian. To do something, if not to go to the amphitheater. I regretted ever telling her I'd caught feelings for the Illyrian general.
"Whatever, Mor," I scoffed, failing to come up with a better comeback. She grinned, clearly sensing her victory, but luckily for me I'd reached my room. "Enjoy all that work you have to do tonight!"
I didn't wait for her response before ducking through the door and shutting it behind me. I could hear her laughing as she continued down the hallway to her own room, but I did my best to block it out as I dropped my bags.
I hovered a little longer in my room, taking my time putting away the things we'd brought back from the market, until I heard Mor leave to go do whatever work Rhys had her doing. I checked both ways in the hallway when I finally emerged before heading down to the kitchen.
All of my friends had been hounding me about Cassian lately, and as much as I loved them, if I heard another word from anyone trying to nudge me into asking him out or whatever, I was going to lose it.
I made my way towards the kitchen, intending to make myself a snack before figuring out what I wanted to do with the rest of my evening, but I stopped short at the sound of harsh whispers coming from within. It sounded like somebody was having a heated conversation, and I didn't want to interrupt anything. But then my stomach rumbled, and I decided to go in anyway.
I cleared my throat and made as much noise as possible so I wouldn't interrupt any Inner Circle members in the middle of something serious. When I rounded the corner, I found Cassian and Azriel sitting at the table in the middle of the space, leaned back in their chairs and trying way too hard to look casual.
"Hey guys..." I said, eyeing them both suspiciously as I slowly moved further into the room. Az gave me a little nod, and Cassian gave me a smile that looked more than a little forced. "What, uh... what are you both up to?"
"Rhys needs my help with something," Azriel said, standing abruptly. I narrowed my eyes at him, but of course his expression gave away nothing as he headed for the door. "I'll see you both later."
I watched him go, then turned my gaze to Cassian once Az was gone. His back was to me, so I couldn't read his expression, but his shoulders were tensed and he hadn't turned from the doorway Az had disappeared through.
"Okay..." I said, deciding to just move past it as I turned to the counter to start making myself a snack. "What about you, Cass, you got anything going on tonight?"
Cassian cleared his throat. "Me? Nope."
I heard him shifting in his chair behind me, and a moment later he was standing at my side. I prayed he couldn't hear my heart racing faster at his proximity as I tried to keep my focus on the fresh fruit in front of me.
"So, uh, you..." Cassian's wings rustled behind him, usually a sign of nerves. I frowned. "You come here often?"
I paused, setting the knife down and opting to slowly turn to face Cassian, one eyebrow raised. He fidgeted as he stared back at me, and I caught him forcing a grimace off his face in favor of a small smile. I'd never seen him look so nervous before.
"I... Cass, we both live here."
The grimace returned in full force, and I couldn't help smiling as Cassian brought a hand to his forehead.
"That's not what I meant to ask you," he said, shaking his head and meeting my eyes again. "What I meant was, uh... do you have a bandage?"
"A bandage? Did something happen? Did you get hit-"
"Dammit! No, I'm fine. Never mind, I need to go find Az-"
He started to push off the counter, but on a reflex, I stopped him with a hand on his forearm. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me, and my heart almost stopped in my chest at the intensity of his gaze.
I quickly pushed down the butterflies in my stomach to give Cassian a once-over. No matter what he said, he clearly was not fine. I didn't see any obvious physical injury, but a hard hit to the head would definitely explain some things, and when I met his eyes again he had a weird look in them.
"Cassian, are you sure you're okay? What's going on?"
He took a deep breath and then hesitated, his eyes darting over my face and his brow furrowed. Then, he sighed, his face and shoulders relaxing with him.
"I'm sorry, I just... I was trying to ask you out." My eyebrows shot up, but Cassian continued before I could muster a coherent response. "I've been wanting to do it for a while now, but I lost a bet to Az last week and my 'punishment' that I finally had to go through with it. I've been trying to figure out the best way to do it, but... I guess that wasn't it."
Cassian huffed a little laugh at himself, his expression drooping as he stared at the ground. I just blinked at him for a few seconds, trying to process everything he'd just told me.
"Hold on... you're asking me out because you lost a bet to Az?"
"Not just for that," Cassian assured me quickly, looking worried. "Or, I guess, if you're not into it, then maybe yes?"
I just laughed, which didn't seem to make him feel better. I felt guilty, but I also just couldn't help it. My heart leapt as I put a hand on Cassian's shoulder and his eyes snapped to mine again.
"Cass... I barely escaped that exact same bet with Mor last week."
His brows furrowed. "What?"
"Yeah," I said, laughing a little. I couldn't quite help it. Cassian apparently felt the same way about me as I did about him, as evidenced by our friends' ridiculous tactics. My heart soared, and I stepped a little closer to him. "I cheated a little to get out of losing, but she's been pressuring me to ask you out somewhere anyway for the last week and a half."
"Because... you like me?"
"Yeah. A lot."
The frown finally lifted from his face, replaced with a beaming grin that made my heart race. Slowly, he moved one arm to wrap around my waist, pulling me a little closer to him. I let one hand rest against his chest, and Cassian's lopsided smirk almost made me faint.
"Our friends are going to be rubbing this in for a long time, but I can't make myself care," he said, voice low. I bit my lip and smiled up at him.
"Same. Especially since I think they're all out of the house right now on a fake assignment for Rhys."
"That's definitely a perk of all their bullshit."
"So... what now?"
Cassian's eyes flashed as he leaned forward, pulling me flush against his chest. He dropped his mouth towards mine until they were barely inches apart, then met my eyes. Based on his grin, I knew he could hear my heart beating out of my chest.
"I have a few ideas," he breathed.
A heartbeat later, his lips were on mine, and fireworks exploded in my chest. Being with Cassian like this just felt right, and now that we were finally together, I never wanted to let him go.
I wasn't sure who initiated it, but we deepened the kiss as Cassian's grip tightened on my waist. I let my hands wander over his chest, to his shoulders and arms, but stopped dead in my tracks when I heard a disgusted scoff from behind me.
Cassian and I broke apart, arms still around each other, and turned towards the door to find our friends standing there, staring at us with their hands on their hips.
"Well, I guess this is what we wanted," said Mor with a shrug.
"Pretty sure I told him to ask her out, not make out with her in the kitchen," Az chimed in from beside her. Rhys and Feyre just grinned at us, while Amren stared, clearly unimpressed.
"Do you all mind?" Cassian ground out, his hands tightening a little more around my waist. Mor just grinned and skipped into the kitchen completely undisturbed, heading for my unfinished fruit platter.
"Not at all," she said. Cassian sighed, but I couldn't keep myself from laughing. Our friends were absolutely ridiculous, but I loved them dearly. And Cassian and I had just made out in the kitchen, so I really don't think much in this world could've ruined my mood.
"Why don't the two of you go see a show or something?" Feyre suggested, following Mor into the kitchen, the other batboys following behind her. Cassian narrowed his eyes at his brothers, but I just smiled, at last stepping out of his grasp and taking his hand.
"That's a great idea, Feyre. Cass? What do you think?"
His expression softened the minute his gaze shifted to me. My heart melted.
"Sure. How about we go to Rita's after, too? Do some dancing?"
"Sounds like a plan. Just let me go get changed."
"I'll meet you back down here."
We shared a smile, and I leaned up to give Cassian one last quick kiss before turning on my heel to go get ready. Rhys and Az both smiled at me as I left the room, and I shot them a wink as I left. I would've preferred it if they'd all given Cassian and I our space tonight, but at the end of the day, we wouldn't have admitted our feelings for each other without our nosy, pushy friends. So I couldn't exactly stay mad at them, at least not this time.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989
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sillymercury · 1 month
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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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Tag list: @gorlillaglue25
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illyrianbitch · 2 months
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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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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 months
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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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milswrites · 1 month
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The Trials of Aphrodite Part One
~ Azriel X Fem!Reader
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Series Masterlist
Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.
Chapter summary: With his pitiful attempts of expressing his attraction to Elain leading him nowhere, Azriel decides he needs some help. Who better to ask than his closest friend?
Warnings: Light angst (pining), Azriel’s childhood is mentioned but doesn’t go into detail.
It was no secret that Azriel has always been a lover.
Once the shackles of his tortured childhood had fallen and Azriel was able to taste the sweet release of freedom, his found family had spent years teaching the male what it meant to dream.
They had shown him the sweet blessings that come with loving freely and dreaming wildly. Reassuring the male that his life was his own, promising Azriel that family was made by choices, not by blood. Encouraging him to make his own decisions, build his own friendships, untethered by the control of his merciless relatives.
That's how he had met you. The male having sought to make a connection that wasn't forged for him by the likes of his family. Azriel's selfish desire to have someone all to himself was what drove him to Velaris that day you had met. Confident that despite his past which had been spent in solitude, he would be able to meet an equal-minded person.
It was fate that brought the two of you together. A chance encounter as you collided in the bustling streets of the lively city and Azriel had spent every century since thanking the gods for allowing that meeting to occur - for bringing him you.
The shadowsinger had been drawn to you from the very moment you had stumbled into his unexpecting arms. His shadows flocking to your glowing aura like moths to a flame. You were everything Azriel wasn't. A bright soul, who had grown up in Velaris nurtured by your loving family. Untouched by the darkness which plagued the male.
Yet it was this difference which set you apart from Azriel's family. This difference which had him craving your presence when his own light had grown a little too dim, needing your warmth and security to encourage the spark to grow in his festering darkness.
You were the perfect antithesis of each other. The sun and moon. Life and death. So it was no wonder that it was all to easy for the shadowsinger to love you. To welcome you into his tarnished life, allowing your gentle hands and honeyed voice to soothe over the the jagged scars of his past.
Azriel allowed all his free time to be consumed by you. The days passing by quickly in each other's contented company. And that is why after centuries of knowing one another it was no surprise that Azriel knew everything about you and you him. How you were both fortunate enough to have been blessed with the gift of reading each other without a single word needing to be spoken.
How it was all too easy for you to notice the way Azriel's longing eyes which had one settled on Mor had now turned their attention to Elain.
All the while yours remained on him.
Azriel may have been a lover, but he was blind to your centuries-old affection for him. His heart and mind always having been stolen by another. First Mor and now Elain. You didn't allow his incessant pining to deter you from your friendship with him. Just like you were Azriel's salvation, he was yours. The deep bond of your friendship had already been tied and you would not allow one silly little crush to sever the tether that tied the two of you together.
It was only one centuries-old crush which you couldn't stamp out no matter how hard you tried.
You were fortunate enough, at least, that Azriel's pining was mainly done in silence. That his hours spent with you weren't marred by him expressing his undying affection for the ladies who captured his attention. It was pure luck, that the man who owned your heart chose to keep his love for another to himself, sparing you from the unbearable pain of hearing about it. Watching his yearning eyes never fail to leave Elain's delicate features whenever the two were in the same room was agony enough.
And so you were content. Resigned to the fact that his unrequited love for you was something you would have to live with if it meant being in Azriel's life. Accepting that you were immeasurably in love with a man who would never feel the same way about you.
It was all too easy then, once you had come to terms with this realization, to fall into your regular routine with the male. To ignore the ceaseless twang of your heartstrings whenever you witnessed his uncontrollable pining for Elain. To pretend that the dreamer inside of you didn't stir up pictures of a day where Azriel would finally notice what's been in front of him the whole time.
Being Azriel's friend was too much of a reward to ruin.
And so when he turned up at your door, face sullen and eyes watering, Elain's name upon his lips, it was impossible to deny him of your comfort. Standing aside to allow your distressed friend to walk inside, Azriel making his way to your sofa before flopping onto the plush cushions, flattening his wings as he laid in misery.
A gruff cry of frustration tore from his throat as you moved to sit in the chair opposite him.
"That bad huh?" you ask meekly, tentative voice failing to represent the tempestuous emotions which were swirling inside your chest at the reason for his visit.
Azriel shot you a flat look, his serious eyes meeting your own anxious ones before he flung his head back in exasperation.
"I actually think I'm destined to remain single forever!" he cried as you uncomfortably shifted in your seat at his statement. You often wondered in his shadows could sense your hidden affection for the male, convinced that they must have some knowledge of your crush on their master as a few of the smoky tendrils made their way over to where you were sat. The dark shadows curling around your legs in comfort, not dissimilar to the way a cat would brush against you.
Azriel, oblivious to his shadows wanderings, continued to vent, "I don't understand how I've been cursed with the inability to speak to females."
"You speak to me alright" you interjected lowly, keeping your eyes locked on the swirling movements of the shadows by your feet out of fear of them betraying your true emotions in relation to the words Azriel had spoken.
"Yes, but you're you" he countered as if it was obvious, shrugging casually as he did so, "But every time I go to speak to Elain it's like the Mother herself is holding my tongue. She's bound to think there's something wrong with me."
"I'm sure she doesn't Az" you reason, doing your best to fill your words with reassurance and comfort. Hoping that if you soothe the male's turbulent thoughts of the woman he may stop speaking about her sooner.
"And then there's Lucien. Why is Lucien always there?" he asked in annoyance, spitting venom upon the mention of the red-haired male's name. You sunk even further into your seat, clearly your well of luck had run dry.
"Why don't you just ask her on a date?" you quietly asked, forcing the dreaded words to spill from your mouth, "She likes you, I'm sure she'll say yes."
His slumped head snapped straight at your words, hazel eyes boring into your own as he began to eagerly question you, "She likes me? You're sure?"
"I mean. . . I guess? I can't say I pay much attention to the women you pine after."
A lie. Having jealously spent numerous hours observing Elain to see if she also feels the same way as your friend does for her. But this was something you'd never mention to Azriel.
"Cassian said I need a wingman," he scoffed at the notion, clearly finding the idea of Cassian trying to do anything romantic unimaginable, "Can you imagine the mess he'd put me in then? He'd probably scare her away. . ."
Azriel trailed off, his hazel eyes clouded over as the male was deep in thought, lightly tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth as he did so. "Your sister," he slowly started to speak, as if afraid that you would judge him, "Is she still with that guy you set her up with?"
"Castor? Yeah she's still with him, why?" you ask, heart beating frantically in your chest as you can already see where this conversation is leading. Dreading the shadowsinger's proposition which was already hovering ominously in the air. Fearing the unwelcome appearance of your inability to say no to the male.
"Well you wouldn't mind helping me would you?" he pondered, the thundering echo of your heart now flooding into your ears, "I trust you more than Cassian, I know you'd be able to do this for me."
It was a cruel fate the cauldron had handed you. And cruller still, was the hold that Azriel had over you. The way he had managed to worm his way into your heart and dictate what you do and how you feel.
It was impossible to tear your eyes from his begging hazel ones, unable to ignore the hopeful anticipation which filled them. Hating the uplifting way your heart twinged with pleasure at the trace of a smile lining his soft lips. A smile reserved only for you.
Your mind screamed at you to say no, listing all the reasons why this was a terrible idea, creating numerous scenarios as to how this could all go horribly wrong. Yet it was too late, your traitorous heart had already spoken for you, pouring the words from your lips before your mind could even register that you were the one to have spoken them, "Alright Az, I'll do it. I’ll help you with Elain."
And it was all too easy to pay no mind to the river of dread which coursed through your body. The pain of your fracturing heart failing to be heard due to the numbness which had found it's home in your body and soul. The warming comfort which came along with Azriel's beaming smile was almost strong enough to make you believe that he loved you. Allowing you to confuse his thankful eyes for affectionate ones.
His grateful expression was hypnotic, his gods blessed power was enough to hold your anxieties at bay. Able to convince you that you made the right choice.
That all you needed to be content was to make sure that Azriel was happy with somebody else.
Someone who wasn't you.
Part two
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months
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Skin and Bones
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Cassian x Fem!Reader
Summary - Cassian barely knew who you were let alone your affections toward him. Determined to not play the Lord of Bloodshed's puppy, you kept quiet, silently waiting for the Mother to give you your chance. But, one Starfall, everything changes.
Warnings - pining, fluff, alcohol use, swearing
Based of this ask
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The teasing had become a common occurrence.
It wasn't often that you left the confinements of The Library, but when you did, for whatever reason that would be, you'd always find yourself in the same place as the Lord of Bloodshed, and his mere presence encapsulated your attention enough to shush to to complete silence.
Cassian was a god-like specimen, the curves of his taut, trained muscle contorting with each movement, his hair pulled back into a well-maintained bun with slices falling over his face that faded down the sides to that impeccable beard ; he was ruggedly handsome, rough-hewn with sun-kissed golden skin, and brown-green eyes that made you weak whenever they passed over you.
He had only spoken to you twice, once when he asked if you were alright after you had dropped a stack of books upon seeing him, little did he know that you weren't just some clumsy researcher, but that you were awestruck upon seeing that carved from the mountains complexion and those large membranous wings. The other time he had spoken to you was to ask for a book that Amren needed, a request you had quickly granted, your giddiness drifting like ash in the wind when he took the book from your grasp with a small thanks and looked right through you.
Other than those two instances, Cassian hadn't spoken to you, it was like you didn't even exist to him.
You weren't the most ongoing female, you didn't find joy in sauntering about the room and throwing yourself onto any male who deemed you worthy enough. You were reserved. You were quiet to all but the ones who truly knew you well enough to say that you were by far the most complex thing in all of Velaris.
And that was saying something.
"He's never going to notice you when you hole yourself up in the corner like that," Mari drawled, rolling her eyes at you as you had, yet again, found Cassian laughing thunderously across the room and set your sights on him, "Go and talk to him."
Your friends had consistently tried to convince you to talk to him, to try and give you the confidence you needed to walk right up to the Lord of Bloodshed and tell him exactly how you felt.
"How long are you going to look at him until you just do it?" Rita's was teething with thumping music and swirling talk, it was the night of Starfall, and the entire of Velaris had moved from their own private celebrations to dance and drink the night away at the city's favourite bar.
Not taking your eyes off of him as he stood between his brothers, laughing like a giddy child with his white canines shining in the glittering light, you told Sia, "As long as I need to."
Sia scoffed, pushing her moon white hair back over her shoulder and allowing her silver gaze to tear into you, "Not good enough, Y/N."
Humming in agreement, Mari leaned over the white marble table and grasped you chin in her delicate fingers, "You look insane tonight. Don't waste it by sitting in that corner. Even the High Lady doesn't outshine you in that dress," Mari's dark pools of onyx and blue winked, her voice was as soft as summer rain.
"I'm not going to be a puppy that chases him around-"
"It'll happen when it happens and all of that crap," Sia waved her hand, reciting your weekly words, "And looking at him like that every time is doing what exactly?" Heat crept up your cheeks and you scowled, "Come on, we're dancing," Sia sank her drink, the delightfully tropical concoction that was once in her glass dissipating, "I'm not asking."
Mari was right. You did look incredible.
Red fabric doused in diamonds clung to every curve and shimmered in the faelight with every movement you took, an off-the-shoulder neckline which highlighted the hollowness of your collarbones, a high slit that reached your right thigh, matching lace gloves that kissed your elbows. Absolute perfection.
With a sigh, you slid your covered hand into Sia's who wasted no time in hauling you up and dragging you through a sea of intoxicated bodies to the centre of the dancefloor, just in case you changed your mind. Caging in the little mouse with no means of escape.
They were lucky to have been able to convince you to treat yourself for once, to buy a new dress and put makeup on, to give yourself something to look forward to. Sia and Mari knew how lonely The Library could be, though of course knew that you didn't mind one bit, you loved what you did, it had enabled you to travel the world and find things no male ever could. It was always about perspective, you had told them.
Sia placed her hands on your waist, making you sway to the beat of the music with her, your bodies moving like a ripple down the Sidra. Light fell over you, drifting through the crowd who were becoming lost in the thumping melodies, falling victim to the alcohol in their systems. It was Starfall, how couldn't they?
Your friend reached behind you, pulling the pin from your delicately wound updo, allowing your hair to flow down your spine and smiling as you ran your fingers through it, twirling around and feeling every hit of bass reverberate through your body.
Too busy losing yourself in the moment, you didn't feel a certain gaze floating over your figure, drinking in your large smile and giggles as you danced, drinking in the curve of your breasts and hips, "Who are you looking at?" Mor appeared next to him, swaying slightly from the amount of alcohol she had drank, crouching beneath his chin like it would help her focus on who had stolen his attention. "Oh, please tell me you're looking at Y/N."
"Y/N?" Cassian asked, puzzled, he tilted his head to the side, looking at your closer, the pretty eyes and soft features, the pure joy as you jumped to the music with your friend.
"Y/N? Prythian's most accomplished researcher?" Mor barked incredulously, in disbelief that anyone could have the gall to not know who the female was, "She's the most impressive person I've ever met."
"More impressive than me?" Cassian smirked at the golden-haired blonde, it was suggestive, it was teasing, it earnt him a sharp jab to the arm, "Ow," he rubbed over the clothed patch of skin, enjoying the feel of the silk black shirt he had decided to adorn that night.
"Way more impressive than you, Lord of Bloodshed," Mor finished the last of her drink and leaned into him, "I'm surprised you haven't noticed her before, she's always helping Azriel and Amren out with whatever they need."
That's it. Y/N.
Cassian knew who you were. The ditzy researcher that worked within the library in the River House, the one who had gotten that book for him one time, the one who had dropped a stack of tomes on her toes and repressed the squeal until she'd gone red in the face.
But surely that female wasn't you. You looked- you looked so radiant, practically glowing like a star in a sea of darkness, completely different to the grey-blue tunic pants you wore alongside a thick black woven jumper that drowned you.
"That's Y/N?" Cassian asked, shocked, narrowing his eyes on you when Mor nodded, "But, I've barely even noticed her, she's so quiet."
Azriel laughed then, loudly too, one that rumbled through his chest as he clasped Cassian's shoulder, "Y/N is not quiet," he told his brother, looking to you fondly, "She's the loudest thing ever actually, funny too."
"I've never heard her. I've barely noticed her existence."
Mor reached a finger out and flicked the pendent dangling from his neck, "Because she's not loud when you're around, silly."
A beat passed and Azriel let out a small, knowing, "Oh," like a lightbulb had flashed on in his brain, the penny dropping in his mind, and a shit-eating grin pulling at the corners of his lips.
"What?" Cassian asked, his gaze flickering between Azriel and Mor who were silently communicating with their eyes.
Mor smiled, "I think you should go and talk to her, say hi, happy starfall and all of that stuff," Mor gave him little option, pushing him from their ledge and onto the dancefloor.
Cassian rolled his shoulders and turned to Mor and Azriel with a scowl, they had taken a step closer to one another, whispering between themselves.
She was right though, he should be polite and wish you a happy starfall. Adjusting the open collar of his silk shirt, he moved through the crowd that parted like the Sidra before him until he saw a straight line guiding him to you.
Your friend saw him coming and dipped her head to him before taking a step back, smirking to herself at your complete unawareness of the situation as you twirled back to where you thought she was, only to meet a wall of rock hard muscle and wings that cast a shadow over you.
Dark amber, smoke, and cloves stung their way down your nose and into your lungs, it was the deepest breath you had ever taken. Those brown-green eyes that stalked your dreams were now peering down on you with splendid wonder, his entire figure curled around you, and you felt your heart beating a mile a minute.
"Hi," his voice was low and rough, his breath smelt like aged whisky, and his entire body heat made you feel like your skin was on fire, "Y/N, right?"
It took you a moment to respond, "Yeah," you replied, gravity shifting around you and the music dimming into a hum in your ears.
Cassian grinned, "I'm Cassian."
"I know who you are," the movement of your lips had him entranced, like they were moving in slow motion, he watched them peel from one another, he watched the movement of your tongue with every sweet syllable that moved through them.
It wasn't often that Cassian found himself speechless, it wasn't often that he stood before such an accomplished female and knew little to nothing about her, "Mor mentioned that you're a researcher, that you help Amren and Azriel sometimes. How come I know nothing about you?"
His eyes were hypnotising, "You've never looked long enough."
Cassian smiled, eyes glistening with approval as he took a step forward, laying a hand on you waist and sending an electrifying current over every inch of your skin, "Maybe I should."
You hummed, "Maybe it's time you did," you were doing everything you could to keep your soul from trembling, to keep your voice calm and stoic, to throw that confident façade up like a shield.
His finger, as rough and calloused as you had dreamed it would be, took a strand of hair and pushed it over your shoulder, his fingers grazing your collarbone on their retreat. "Dance with me?"
You spent the remainder of the night in his arms, dancing with him to the music, allowing his large hands to roam your body and ask questions about you that no one had ever bothered to.
It happened to be the most magical Starfall that either of you had ever celebrated.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months
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Goddess — Cassian x Plus-size!Reader
Summary: Just Cass worshiping his gorgeous, gorgeous mate.
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: Pretty much pwp. Adult Content, 18+, minors dni. 🫶🏻
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You can hear him, scent him, from down the hall.
He approaches your shared bedroom with firm, purposed footsteps. His shoes slam against the wooden floor with every great stride he takes. He’s not graceful like some males are. There’s a raw ruggedness to every movement; the swirling storm of somebody who will never be light nor lithe on their feet. But the charged, almost frantic energy with which he does everything is, undeniably, one of your favourite things about him.
The door bursts open, and Cassian enters.
He’s flushed and sweaty like he always is after training, strands of hair hanging down from where they’ve ripped free from the knot at the nape of his neck. He brushes them back with a large, callused hand, and takes in the sight of you sprawled on your bed, an open book perched on your lap.
He’s always a little wild and frenetic, an animal that can’t be tamed, but this morning — this morning, it seems…extreme. A fire burns in his hazel eyes, and he licks his lips and rolls his shoulders as though there’s too much tension in them.
“How was training?” You ask casually, thumbing through your book.
“Fuck training.” Is all Cassian offers, and then he’s clambering onto the bed and folding his body over yours. “C’mere.”
He dips his head, clearly intent on capturing you in a kiss. But before it can land, your palm is in his face, pushing him away.
“Take your shoes off before you get on the bed, Cass.” You complain. “You’re all sweaty, too.”
A wicked grin tugs his lips up. He kicks his shoes off without sparing them a glance, and then he’s prowling back towards you. “You love it.”
Before you can respond, his mouth is slanting over yours in a deep kiss. His tongue immediately probes your mouth, and a deep groan rumbles in his chest.
“I couldn’t concentrate.” He huffs onto your mouth, hands moving up to your breasts. He gives a gentle squeeze. “I kept thinking about these.”
Immediately, your back arches into the touch. You tug your mouth off of his and cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “I’m not sure that’s part of the regime.”
“No it absolutely is not. But it still didn’t stop me thinking of them. Of everything I had waiting for me back here. This,” he moves down, pressing a kiss to the soft, pudgy flesh of your belly, “Mother above, I love this. And these,” his palms slip under your thighs, “I could spend all fucking day kissing these.”
He loves your thighs — has a real fascination with them. He loves touching them, stroking them, kissing them. Loves slotting himself between them. And fuck, he loves — is obsessed, even — with watching the way they rub together through your breeches while you walk. The way fabric hugs them and outlines their shape. The silvery stretch marks that create patterns in your skin and — rather conveniently — draw a path that snake up right to the creases between your legs. Yeah — he really, really loves those.
“I can’t imagine Azriel was all too impressed with your distraction.” You smile down at your mate, raking your fingers through his hair.
He growls softly, gently nips the flesh of one thigh, exposed beneath the shirt that you shucked on to lounge in — Cassian’s shirt. “I don’t want to hear another male’s name on those pretty lips right now.” He murmurs. “Only mine.”
“Jealous, jealous male.”
“Always.” His fingers are finding their way under the shirt, and he’s tugging it up, exposing more of you as you allow him to peel it from your skin. He chucks it behind him without giving it another thought, and then his eyes are devouring you.
Naked, now, except for your undergarments, Cassian can see everything from your full breasts to your soft tummy to your chubby thighs, and every dip, swell and crevice in between.
It’s taken you a while to make peace with the fact that you do not have the figure of the other females in Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and to realise that that is in no way a bad thing. That having a different body to them doesn’t mean having a lesser body than them. That yours is just as beautiful as theirs are — in a different way.
And having Cassian, the brilliant Illyrian general, worship you from head to toe every. single. day, most certainly helps.
Such heat flares in his gaze, now, as he drinks you in, that it’s almost too much to watch.
“You’re unreal,” he pants, despite no real exertion — yet. “I am so not worthy of you.”
“You’re more than worthy—”
“You’re a goddess. An actual fucking goddess.”
His mouth meets yours again, but it isn’t staying there long. He slots himself between those thighs he loves so much, his fingers biting into the generous flesh as he kisses his way along your jaw and down your neck, over your chest, down to the swells of your breasts. His tongue immediately flicks over one of your nipples, and you sigh at the sensation.
“I’ve never needed anyone or anything like I need you.” His mouth closes over your breast, a harsh suck puckering the flesh. “All,” he moves to the other breast, “the damn,” another suck, “time.”
“Cass,” you breathe, pleasure rolling down your spine. You need…something, anything — him.
“On it, sweetheart.” He says, and his kisses continue downwards.
They pepper your stomach, your hips, your pelvis. And his hands roam your body as they do, grasping at anywhere he can touch. He’s utterly obsessed with you, and he groans and ruts against the bed as he inhales slowly, breathes in your scent.
“You ready for me?” He grazes his teeth against your hip, dipping his fingers just past the waistband of your underwear. “My filthy mate. I can smell how ready you are.”
“Yes,” you sink back into the pillows, “please, Cass.”
“You never have to ask twice.”
He’s yanking your underwear down, and the stronger your scent becomes, the less he’s able to tamp down on those carnal noises that sound almost like animalistic snarls. He kisses one thigh, the other, and then tugs your legs apart with a hiss through his teeth.
“This is what I was thinking about during training.” He eyes your sex hungrily. “Getting between these incredible thighs. I couldn’t stop myself, and everyone knew it.”
“So get between them, General.” You drag a hand down your body, stopping between your legs. Your fingers mop up the wetness gathered there, swirling around your clit. The action dangles in front of Cassian like a toy. “Look how wet I am for you.”
The poor male is damn near salivating, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head. He growls, moving your hand out of the way, and he can no longer stop himself from lowering his head to that sweet, dripping pussy he’s spent all morning fantasising about.
He licks right up the centre of you, tongue diving between your folds. At the first lick, you give over to the pleasure, the moans, pressing your hand to the back of Cassian’s head.
“Taste so good, my girl,” his tongue flicks your clit, “all this for me?”
“All of it, Cass. Always.”
“Yeah? You going to come for me?”
“Yes.” A moan escapes you as you tug at the strands of his hair. “Gods, yes.”
“That’s my girl.”
Your head falls back as he simultaneously sucks at your clit and flicks it with his tongue, and you feel fingers sinking between your folds. The sensations Cassian manages to wring from you never lessen in their impact. There’s something about having this brilliant male kneel between your legs and paint you with stunning pleasure. He calls you a goddess, and he treats you like one.
“Fuck,” you breathe, canting your hips up in time with the strokes of his tongue. “Cass…I want you inside me.”
“I want you to come for me first.” Without warning, he pushes a finger into you, and you moan. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
“Gods—yes,” you’re rocking against his hand, gasping as he adds a second finger. His lips smile against you.
“Go ahead — fuck my fingers and take what you need. Come for me, my girl.”
The two of you work together, him thrusting his fingers and continuing the strokes at your clit, and you taking it all so, so well. And you can tell he loves every moment of your pleasure — the way it builds up in your bones, your veins, and readies itself to implode.
And then your mate curls his fingers deep inside you, and it does exactly that. Release bursts through you at an unstoppable force. The impact of it surges to every corner of your body and has you shaking, gasping, screaming.
Cassian moans as if the climax is his own. He drinks and drinks and drinks, not letting a drop of you go to waste. He takes the clenching of your walls around his fingers and the harsh tugs of his hair. Takes it all, happily.
You’re not sure how long your head is spinning for, but you’re eventually coming down, just in time to see Cassian press a kiss to your belly. You tug his hair again and breathe, “Want you, Cass.”
“My beautiful,” he kisses your belly again, “beautiful mate.” As he pulls back, his hands drag down your thighs. “My goddess.”
He jumps up from the bed, and never have you seen him rid himself of clothes so quickly. Clothed, Cassian is stunning. Naked, he’s breathtaking.
Your eyes study him in utter awe, and you wonder — not for the first time — what you did so right in a previous life to have Cassian as your mate in this one. Every inch of him is firm and honed. Tan skin nicked with scars; bold, beautiful wings; rippling muscles and sharp edges. And his cock—
His cock has you swallowing.
It stands to attention, hard and proud and leaking at the head. Cassian wraps his hand around it and pumps a few times, his eyes still intensely on you. He grits his teeth.
“When you look at me like that,” he says, “you make me feel like a god.”
“You are.” Your chest rises and falls heavily. And you mean it — to you, he is. A god and goddess together.
Stark heat crosses his face, and he jerks his chin in signal. “Come here. I want you on top.”
He’s told you time and time again that having you on top of him is like having his prayers answered. Feeling you rocking on him, riding him, your thighs at his sides…a feeling like nothing else in the world. And you’re more than happy to oblige.
So you’re swapping positions. He’s sprawling back on the bed, wings beneath him, and you hover above him. You’re eager to feel him inside you, but you stop short at the weighty gaze that follows your every move.
You do not balk from it, though. This confidence is a stark difference from the early days of yours and Cassian’s sex life, when you’d do everything to avoid him staring at you for too long, when you’d insist on fucking in the dark. Cassian watches you approach like you’re the last meal he’ll ever get to have. He looks…lost for words.
You reach down, cupping his face between your palms. “You’ll give me an ego.”
“You should have an ego.” He turns his head, kissing your hand. “Fuck me, you’re exquisite.”
With a smile, you’re dipping down and slanting your mouth over his. And as Cassian kisses you back, he takes your hands, gently, slowly pulling you down, until you’re straddling him.
“Did you think about this during training, too?” Your voice shakes as the head of his cock brushes your entrance. “Being inside me? Having me ride you?”
Cassian kisses you so deeply, it leaves you breathless. A loud, wet kiss with his lips moulded to yours, his tongue and your tongue dancing. He pulls away only to tell you, “I think about being inside you, and having you ride me, all the fucking time.”
You smile, reaching behind you to palm at his cock. And a soft groan breaks from him as you pump his length gently. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, moving his hand down to grab your thighs.
“Put me inside you,” he shudders, his callused thumbs sweeping your skin. “Need to feel your cunt around me.”
You can’t wait any longer, either. You steady his cock at the base, and the second it’s brushing through your soaked folds, you’re both moaning.
And even louder, still, as you sink so, so slowly onto him.
The more his cock slides into you, the harder Cassian grips onto your thighs. He grits his teeth, watching closely as you pause, allow yourself to adjust to his size, and sink down to the hilt.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” His hands smooth upwards, skating over your hips and round to grab at your generous ass. He squeezes, and then he’s lifting you, and you’re moving on his cock.
You could do this forever — have his long, thick length sliding in and out of you. In seconds, you’re slick enough, drenching him enough, to bounce on his length. You roll your hips, bracing your hands on the headboard and throwing your head back at the pleasure that skitters through you. Cassian leans down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.
“So full,” you whine, grinding against him faster.
“Yeah?” He breathes. “My cock fills you up nice and good, doesn’t it? I know exactly what this pretty cunt needs.” He lifts you up by your ass, growling, “You want it hard, my goddess?”
“Fuck, Cass, yes.”
“You gonna scream for me? Make sure those lot training on the roof know that I rushed away to fuck my mate like she needed me to?”
“Yes—gods.”
“Scream for me, then.” He grips you hard, and he gives you no choice but to scream.
He slams up into you, again and again, the angle so desperate and deep that your control utterly slips. You can’t pull it back. You can’t grab the upper hand and pin him down to ride him — and you don’t want to. Not as he hits a spot so deep inside you that another climax knocks the breath out of you, and you’re screaming, moaning, clawing.
A deep, smug chuckle breaks through the haze of your orgasm, but Cassian doesn’t falter once. His brow furrows more and more with every thrust. He’s holding you closer to him, burying his face into your neck, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses, bracing himself, “how do you feel better and better every damn time?”
“Because I’m yours,” you pant, and Cass chokes on a groan, “and you are mine.”
“Always.” His mouth finds yours in a deep, unforgiving kiss, and he doesn’t pull away as his body begins to tremble beneath you, his thrusts faltering and becoming sloppy.
He slumps down, lying your body flush against his, and just like that, he’s on the home stretch.
“Give it to me, Cass,” you watch the pinched pleasure on his face, “I want you to spill inside me.”
Your mate throws his head back, a shout escaping him. His hips still as you feel the explosion of his orgasm deep inside you, painting your walls with his come. Spurt after spurt, it feels never ending, and Cassian groans gutturally through it all. He well and truly fills you up.
He stays inside you for a while after — while you catch your breaths. But when you’ve both calmed a little, he’s pulling back to meet your gaze, and a dazed laugh leaves him. “Fuck, that was good.” He breathes.
“Mmhm.” You smirk, leaning in to kiss him. “Better than your fantasising?”
“My fantasies can be pretty elaborate, but even this brain couldn’t conjure up anything as brilliant as you.” He kisses you back, his hand gently patting your ass. “My delicious little mate.”
You can only smile against his lips. And you’d be content to stay here all day, wrapped up in him, his mouth on yours. But you grin and snake your arms around his neck. “Cass?”
“Yes, my love?”
“You really need a bath.”
He jumps up without a word, your combined wetness spilling down those thighs he loves so much, as he carries you with him to the bathroom.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
cassian tags: @brekkershadowsinger @wandas-dream @nightscourtt @luna-1-3-5 @ruler-of-hades @chocolatecakelargeshake @asemkta @lucyysthings @a-frog-with-a-laptop @iammichellekocwin @illyriansimp @azrielsbabyg @brookeduggann @toohardtoforgetcth @gmey11 @historianscalledusfriends @basicbittywitty @koemi-kimo @sadiebluewin @angelatinasstuff @eos-princess @theunforgivingsworld @lysjeonsworld @aaronwarnerswifereal @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @str4vvberry @lxnoluvr @moron-says-what @korol-lantsov @evabalexeeva @imaginethat16 @aoibhinnslater04 @kennedy-brooke @magnoliamermaid @winchestersister55 @carrxttcake @shannonsaid @ladylunavoodoo13 @glitterforashes @misslunatic1655 @basicbittywitty @bbycowboi @mel-wcst @amieinghigh @acourtofidiots @scooobies @grunchwench @glitterypirateduck @wallacewillow0773638 @jjlevin @siriuslyslyslytherin @supernatural99 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @loglady00 @bbycowboi @tastydewdrops @waywardcasbutt @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thereadefofsmut @padfootsvixen @donnadiddadog
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azrielsmate87 · 5 months
Text
Coming home Drabble
Azriel x reader
Summary: Azriel comes home from a mission early and accidentally wakes you
Warnings: N/A
Protecting the night court was never easy, even after over 500 years of experience the mental strain put on Azriel caused tension in his aching body. His wings drooping when stepping through the door of the small cabin on the outskirts of Velaris. It wasn’t massive by any means but it was wing friendly, and yours.
He passed the books that littered the floor along with other Knick knacks scattered around: paintings of your family from many decades ago, homemade candles from the market that made the cabin smell of jasmine and vanilla and warm fae lights strung along the shelf’s. It wasn’t much but you managed to make the small space cozy and a home, something Az was very happy with.
Tip toeing through the house Azriel took his boots off knowing the sound of them on the floorboards would wake you. Him coming home three days early wasn’t easy but it was worth it to be with you. Even though all he wanted to do was see you and your face light up at the fact he’s surprised you with his early return he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you are in the moonlight.
He changed out of his leathers and noticed the jogging bottoms you temporarily stole from his room in the house of wind and changed into them, then slipped into bed next to you. He was finally comfortable. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled your back to his front and placed his head on top of yours revelling in your scent.
As Azriel started to drift off he felt you move. “That better be you shadowsinger or we’re going to have a problem” you groggily murmured into the night, enjoying the heat he provided you, knowing it was your mate. He chuckled at your hint of a threat and lazily skimmed his fingers over your arms trying to lull you to sleep “It’s me little one, go back to sleep” he whispered into your hair tightening his grip on your waist.
You knew the position would soon become uncomfortable for the huge bat next to you, so you gently tugged his arms allowing you to move and nudge Azriel until he was lying on his back with his wings splayed out. You curled into his side and nuzzled your face into his bare chest pressing your lips to his chest for a quick kiss, inhaling his scent feeling sleep consume you once more as he wrapped his wing around you almost as if to protect you from the world. You didn’t fight sleep but before you did you whispered to him,
“I’ll greet you properly tomorrow. Welcome home Az”
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tsunami-of-tears · 1 month
Text
Subtle
Azriel x Reader, Nesta x Reader, Nessian
Summary: Reader and Nesta have a crush on each other but aren’t sure if they should make a move.
A/N: WHY DO I KEEP MAKING CASSIAN SUCH A SUB??  I’m getting so hyped for poly!+ ACOTAR week!! I have so many drafts on the go rn
Wordcount: 1.2K
Warnings: Mostly fluff; Slightly sexual themes; Mention of cuck!Cassian (he’s so hot for that); Poly! relationship
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚
Sharing their bed was nothing new to Cassian and Nesta, often inviting both males and females to join them. 
Cassian didn’t often get jealous, in fact - he quite enjoyed when Nesta would seek out other males. The only rule was that he wanted to watch.
Cassian was willing to give Nesta her privacy when it came to females. He understood that it was a different kind of intimacy. On occasion, Nesta would allow an audience. If Cassian was lucky, he’d be invited to join in. 
The couple were getting ready to head out to Rita’s with the rest of the Inner Circle. There was nothing out of the ordinary about tonight, except for Nesta’s growing feelings for their friend, Y/N. 
Nesta pauses in front of the mirror, trying to calm her racing mind. Her hair was styled in her signature coronet, and her sleek black dress perfectly hugged her figure.
Cassian walks up behind Nesta, admiring his mate as he slides his arms around her waist and kisses her tenderly on the cheek. 
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. 
“I’m nervous about tonight. About seeing Y/N,” She admits. 
Cassian gives Nesta a small, reassuring smile, moving his hands to rest on her hips. “I wondered when this was going to come up. I noticed your affection towards her has grown. I just want you to be happy, my love.”
Nesta turns in Cassian’s arms to face him. “I know,” She says. “But I can’t tell if she feels the same. And I have no idea if Az will be okay with it.”
Cassian ponders her statement. “Do you want me to try broaching the topic with him?” He asks. 
“I know it’s not your strong suit, but please try and be subtle. I don’t want to ruin things between us.” 
“Sweetheart, subtle is my middle name,” Cassian grins widely. 
————
At Rita’s, Cassian, Azriel and Rhys are sat at their signature booth with glasses of whiskey in hand. The females are off dancing together; Mor with Feyre, and Nesta with Y/N.
Y/N throws her head back at something Nesta says, her melodic laughter barely heard over the music. The pair hold hands and spin around together, completely ignorant of the people around them.
Cassian watches his mate and her friend with a small smile. He would give anything to make Nesta happy. He takes a big sip of his drink before inclining his head towards Azriel. “Has Y/N ever expressed interest in females before?”
Rhys eyes his brothers, opting to stay quiet and see where this conversation is going. Azriel smirks and arches a brow. “Huh, why do you want to know that?” He asks.
Cassian shrugs, failing at his attempt to seem casual. “I was just wondering,” He says cooly. 
“That’s a funny thing to wonder about my mate,” Azriel goads, “I’d ask the same about yours, but we both know the answer to that question.”
Rhys coughs, raising his hand to his mouth to keep his drink from spraying across the table.
Cassian sighs, “You know you’re a prick, right?”
“You can tell Nesta to make her move,” Azriel says with a wink.
————
Y/N extends a hand, bowing to Nesta as a slow ballad starts to play throughout the hall. “Will you join me for this dance, milady?” She asks, each word laced with giggles now that the faewine has taken effect. 
Nesta takes her hand, bowing in return. “I would be delighted,” she replies. 
They both smile as they hold each other in a close embrace, swaying to the music. At this proximity, Y/N can’t avoid looking into Nesta’s eyes, and she risks a glance down to her lips. 
Only for a second, but long enough that Nesta caught it. 
Nesta’s lips curl upwards slightly and she tilts her head closer to Y/N’s.
“You don’t have to be shy with me,” Nesta murmurs as her gaze drops to Y/N’s mouth. Rather than quickly averting her eyes, Nesta lingers, taking in the soft curves - wondering how they’ll feel, what they’ll taste like. 
Y/N’s heart pounds and the music fades into a dull roar as she stands still in her embrace with Nesta. The moment she’d thought about since the two first met was finally reality. 
Their bodies fit together even better than Y/N had dreamed. They move in time, close enough to feel the others’ breath on their face. 
Just a little bit more, that’s all it would take to close that gap, and maybe ruin their friendship. 
Y/N doesn’t have to decide as Nesta chooses for her. She surges forward, pressing her soft lips to Y/N’s in a sweet kiss. 
It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to make Y/N’s blood heat.
They part, breathing unevenly, Y/N bites her lower lip as she looks up into Nesta’s steel-blue eyes. “Do it again,” Y/N pants. 
Nesta gently holds Y/N’s cheek as their lips meet again. It’s tender and unhurried, but it’s clear that Nesta is the one in control. Her tongue slips between Y/N’s lips, exploring and claiming her mouth. 
They part for air, resting forehead against forehead and continue to sway to the music. They both smile shyly, cheeks flushed pink, not noticing anyone but each other. 
They dance for a few more songs together before heading back to their booth for a drink. Azriel wraps his arm around Y/N as she slips into the seat beside him. 
Y/N blushes furiously as a rather pleased-looking Nesta takes the seat opposite her, next to Cassian. 
Cassian uses the bond to speak to Nesta, ‘That wasn’t exactly subtle.’
Nesta replies with the mental image of her making a vulgar gesture. 
————
After calling it a night, Y/N heads home with Azriel, walking hand in hand along the Sidra. 
They stop at the end of the Rainbow, admiring the display of colours. Azriel takes Y/N’s other hand and kisses her lovingly. “Did you have fun tonight, my love?” Azriel asks, his lips curled into a soft small. 
Y/N grips his hands tighter as she blushes again, and looks down at their feet. She had been harbouring feelings for Nesta from the moment they met. Azriel picked up on them fairly quickly through the bond. Though Y/N did her best to hide them, she couldn’t cover up just how alive the female made her feel. 
Azriel gently lifts her chin so their eyes meet. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear before running his thumb over her cheek. “No need to be shy, my love. You already had my blessing. I am happy for you.”
Y/N looks up at her mate with wide eyes, silver tears threatening to spill over the edge. “Are you sure?” She asks.
“Of course,” Azriel kisses her softly, “If Nesta brings you more happiness, how can I deny you that? And besides, this” —he points at her chest, over her heart— “has so much love in it. There’s not any less for me if you give some to Nesta as well.” 
Y/N wraps her arms tightly around Azriel, inhaling the scent of him, feeling the firmness of his body in her arms. “I love you so much.” She murmurs into the crook of his neck.
“I love you too, Y/N,” Azriel says, kissing the top of her head. 
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thewulf · 10 hours
Text
Bound by Shadows || Azriel
Summary: Request - I'm hoping you could write a fanfic where reader, Feyre's twin, who actually killed the wolf but let Feyre take the credit... and before she realizes what she's done Feyre is gone. She struggles with guilt and isolation in Velaris after the sisters transformation by the Cauldron.... Read Rest Here
A/N: OKAY I LOVE THIS. It got away from me a bit. I didn't realize how fun this world would be to dive into. Let me know your thoughts as always :)
Pairing: Azriel Shadowsinger x Female Reader (Feyre Archeron Twin Sister)
Word Count: 8.2k +
TW: General ACOTAR TW
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Under the starlit skies of Velaris the City of Starlight pulses with a life of its own. Its vibrant lights reflecting off the river with laughter and music filling the air, breathing life into every cobblestone and corner. But for you the city’s brilliance only deepens the shadows that cling to your soul. Shadows that no light seems capable of dispelling.
You walked alone. Your steps aimless being driven by the restless guilt that gnaws incessantly at your conscience. Every whisper of the wind seems to accuse you, every glance from a passerby seems to pierce through the facade you barely maintain. The weight of the secret you harbor presses down on you with every step… the wolf, the woods, the dreadful slice of the arrow that was meant to protect Feyre not harm her. But Feyre stepped forward and shouldered the blame. She was taken from you in an instant and forced to face the horrors of the faerie lands. It was all to shield you her twin she thought of being too gentle, too fragile for the brutal truths of that world.
The transformation wrought by the Cauldron has only magnified everything. Every emotion, every fear, every shard of guilt. It was supposed to be a rebirth but for you it feels more like a slow descent into a nightmare from which you cannot awaken. The power that now courses through your veins feels like chains. A constant reminder of the price paid to the mother. Of the freedom you don’t believe you deserve.
As you wander through the bustling streets the sounds of celebration around you clash violently with the turmoil within. Families and lovers share warm, joyous moments. Their laughter echoing in the crisp night air while you drift among them. You were simply a specter unseen, untouched by the light of their joy. Your heart aches with a loneliness so profound it threatens to consume you whole. To reduce your existence to a mere shadow of regret and sorrow.
You find yourself on one of the many ornate bridges spanning the Sidra. A place you often found some sort of solace in. You leaned over the balustrade to gaze into the dark waters below. The reflection of the city’s lights dances across the surface, a stark contrast to the darkness that seems to stretch endlessly beneath. It is here in the quiet far enough away from the eyes of those who know you, those who worry over you, that your facade finally cracks.
Tears that were unbidden and unwelcome, spill over, tracing cold paths down your cheeks. You are tired. So incredibly tired of pretending. Of hiding the depth of your pain. You wish to scream so loud. To let out the anguish that fills you, but your voice is as lost as your soul feels in the face of your endless guilt. Instead, you just stare down at the dark waters with silent sobs wracking your body. It was better this way. You couldn’t let Feyre see you like this. She was finally so happy. So happy with her mate. Her Rhysand. You couldn’t threaten that happiness. You owed her so much more than that. You quite literally owed her your life. So, you would suck it up in solace. Cry it out on your own.
In the solitude of the night, you allowed yourself to feel your overwhelming emotions. To acknowledge the pain and the darkness. Little did you know you are not as alone as you believe. From the shadows an Illyrian figure watches you. His own heart heavy with unspoken secrets. Azriel was the spymaster of night court for a reason. He picked up on you disappearing for hours at a time when the others didn’t. He picked up on the fake smiles you threw everyone’s way. He seemed to pick up on it while the others didn’t… other than Feyre who seemed to watch you just as much as he did. He decided he would watch over you. For Feyre, his brothers mate. And for you. The woman who couldn’t seem to get used to being Fae as easily as your sisters did. The human turned Fae that consumed more of his thoughts than he cared to admit.
But for now, he waited behind his shadows. A silent guardian in the night recognizing that some battles must be faced alone before they can be shared.
You returned from the bustling markets of Velaris with arms laden with the myriad items Feyre requested. As you approach the townhouse the warm light from within spills out onto the cobblestones. It was a stark contrast to the dusk settling over the city. You pause at the door steeling yourself with a deep breath before stepping inside. Your smile as you hand the bags to Feyre doesn't quite reach your eyes. But she's too caught up in the moment to notice.
"Thank you so much," she says with a relief evident as she starts to unpack the food you’d volunteered to pick up for her. She pauses before she got too carried away giving you that look, the one you've come to know so well. The one that silently implores you to stay. To be a part of her world. "Will you stay for dinner? Everyone's coming over. Even Amren agreed to come. It would mean so much to me."
Her eyes are pleading and you know you can't refuse. Not when she's given up so much for you. With a nod you agree even as your stomach tightens at the thought of facing everyone. It was easy to fake your inner turmoil when it was only her or Rhys. But when it was the entirety of the Inner Circle it was harder to hide away. Inevitably someone would get you hooked in on a conversation. You haven't sat down with them since… well, since before the Cauldron. Since before everything changed. And that was almost an entire year ago now. You knew this request would come sooner or later. Though you were hoping for later you were going to suck it up for Feyre.
As the evening wears on the townhouse fills with laughter and conversation with everyone gathering in the familiar camaraderie that once felt like home to you. But now you feel like an outsider watching from the shadows even as you sit among them. At the dinner table you're terribly quiet. You were merely pushing food around your plate listening to the ebb and flow of conversations you can't force yourself to seem to join.
Feyre decided to sit beside you in hopes of calming your nerves. She notices. She notices the way your eyes were downturned. The way you occasionally nodded your head or smiled briefly pretending to be listening. The way you didn’t pick your fork up once. Her joy fades a little each time she glances your way. You didn’t notice the way her expression turned from mirth to concern. She squeezed your hand under the table in a silent message of solidarity and love. But even her touch can't pull you from the fog that's settled over you. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was your punishment? To live in a hazed state for thousands of years? Oh, how you wished to be a tiny little human again with the promise of dead after a hundred years or so.
Rhysand sat at the head of the table catches Feyre’s subtle, worried glances towards her twin. She meets his eyes with a silent conversation passing between them. She didn’t know what to do anymore. She needed help. He nods slightly. His expression was solemn, understanding the depth of her worry. His gaze then shifts to you filled with a quiet resolve. He knew you were struggling but didn’t pick up on just how much you were. You’d done a masterful job until tonight hiding it away.
Rhysand had felt the ripple of concern from Feyre long before she voiced it. Her distress over your withdrawal echoing within him. She watched you with a sister's keen eye and her silent worry bled into their shared bond. A testament to her deep care for you.
Azriel, Feyre is troubled by Y/N's state. As am I. Rhysand's thought reached out to his brother that was sitting next to you. There was a thread of urgency woven through the mental call. She's pulling away and Feyre feels it deeply. Keep an eye on her please? Help her if you can.
Azriel's presence in Rhysand's mind was immediate and calm. He was steady force amid the silent storm of concern. I'm already on it, Rhys. I’ve sensed it too, he assured. His mental voice as composed as the shadows he commanded. You don't need to worry. I’ve been watching over her not out of obligation, but because... because she matters to me. I’ll make sure she’s safe and supported.
Azriel’s vigilance came not from an order but from a place of quiet solidarity. His attunement to the nuances of emotion and the unspoken had already drawn him to your side. Rhysand’s request merely echoed the actions he’d already undertaken. His actions were born from a blend of duty and a deep, personal concern that Azriel rarely let show. In the face of Feyre's distress and now Rhysand’s request, he became a silent sentinel for you. He needed to ensure that you were not only protected but also truly seen and understood.
Dinner continues around you as you withdrew into yourself. The laughter a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. You're barely aware of Azriel's presence on your other side until you feel him beside you. His chair slightly closer than usual. His voice is soft, almost lost in the surrounding noise, as he leans in. "You don't have to be anything you're not, not here," he murmurs only for you to hear. "It’s okay to just be. To just breathe." His words meant to comfort felt like a lifeline in the sea of your tumultuous thoughts. You didn’t look at him for you were worried tears might spill over. But you nodded in acknowledgement letting him know that you heard him.
The evening slowly winds down and as the others linger over drinks and stories Azriel stays by your side. His presence a steady promise of understanding and patience. He doesn't push you to talk nor does he expect smiles. Instead, he offers the silent support you didn't know you needed, becoming a guardian not just of your safety, but of your peace.
Feyre watches this exchange with a glimmer of hope lighting up her worried features. Perhaps with Azriel's help you might find your way back to them. To yourself. Tonight, though, is just a small step in your journey back to yourself.
As everyone departs for the night you linger in the living room feigning interest in tidying up the small mess left behind. Feyre watches you for a moment with that same concern etching her features. But she decided against speaking, sensing your need for space.
Once the house is quiet you decide to step out for a walk under the night sky of Velaris. It had become your favorite routine. A routine that kept you grounded. A quick walk to your favorite spot on the Sidra. The city's soft lights reflect gently on the river casting dancing patterns on the water. It's beautiful yet the sight does little to ease the tightness in your chest.
You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice Azriel's approach until he's almost beside you. His presence is calming and somehow it doesn't startle you. Perhaps because in your heart you know he understands the need for quiet. His own demeanor is often just as reserved.
"Good evening," he says. His voice a low rumble. "Care for some company or would you prefer solitude tonight?"
You consider his offer for a moment. Company might not be so bad even though this was usually just a place for you. But it was Azriel. Someone who respects the silence as much as you do. "Company sounds nice, thank you," you reply with your voice softer than you intended.
Azriel nods falling into step beside you. As you walk his shadows play at your feet. It was a subtle yet comforting gesture. At one point one of his shadows curls around your hand. This small, almost imperceptible touch from his shadows offers a silent, comforting presence that envelops you in a sense of security. Neither of you speaks as you walk along the riverbank. The only sounds was the gentle lapping of water against the shore and the distant hum of the city. The silence between you is more than comfortable, filled with an unspoken understanding that words can sometimes be too cumbersome.
After a while though Azriel speaks up. He wasn’t looking at you but staring out at the water. "It's easy to feel lost in this city… even with its lights and crowds. Sometimes it feels like being surrounded by shadows even in the brightest part of the day."
You glance at him, surprised by the reflection of your own feelings in his words. "Yes, it does," you agree. You were feeling a weight lift slightly knowing that someone else understands.
He nods slightly at your words, "The shadows aren't all there is though. There are places, moments like these, that can offer some respite. And not all shadows are bad." He smiles looking down at the ones that clung to your feet.
His words make you look at him anew. You weren’t just seeing the spymaster or the warrior but someone who also seeks to find balance between the light and the dark. It makes you wonder if perhaps in this shared moment you might find a way to navigate your own shadows. They might not all be bad you had to agree with him.
You don't say much more as you walk back to the townhouse, but the silent agreement hangs between you, comforting and promising. Maybe, just maybe, you're not as alone as you thought.
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The dawn is still a whisper of light across Velaris as you sit quietly by the Sidra. The gentle murmur of the river a soothing background to your thoughts that never seemed to shut the hell up. Lost in the reflections of the dancing water you hardly notice Azriel’s approach until he’s beside you. His presence as quiet as the morning. It was becoming a routine for him to join you on the river it seemed. Not that you minded. He might be the one person you’d happily accept to intrude on your solitude.
“You’re up early,” he remarks softly not wanting to startle you. His tone as gentle as the river’s flow.
You look up with a soft smile on your face. His familiar, reassuring presence is a comfort. “Just needed some air,” you reply with a yawn. Your voice carrying the weight of another sleepless night.
Azriel nods, understanding. He looks out over the water for a moment sharing the silence with you. Then, turning back to you, he suggests, “Come with me. I think I have something that might help clear your head. Help you to focus a bit.”
You’re hesitant. The idea of doing anything but sitting quietly feels daunting. But there’s something about his offer. The promise of relief, however temporary, that nudges you to your feet.
“It’s just training,” he adds. seeing your uncertainty. “Physical activity can be a good way to let out some of the emotions that are harder to express in words. We’ll take it slow. You set the pace.”
Trusting Azriel’s judgment, knowing he wouldn’t push you into something without reason, you stand and follow him towards the training grounds. The city is quietly waking around you and the walk is silent but comfortable. His presence a steady reassurance by your side. Something you were slowly growing to cherish.
As you reach the secluded training area the first rays of sunlight begin to warm the cool morning air. Azriel gives you a small, encouraging smile. “Let’s start simple. No pressure. Just you learning to trust your strength again.”
The training starts at an easy pace. Azriel guiding you through basic maneuvers. His patience was evident. But as your body begins to warm up with the activity and your focus sharpens on the movements. There was that sense of release you never knew could come. It was unfamiliar yet welcome that starts to take hold on you.
As the morning sun climbs higher the training session progresses under Azriel's watchful eye. You find yourself gradually syncing with the rhythm of the physical exertion. Each movement flushing out the restless energy that has been building up inside you. Azriel's guidance is firm yet encouraging and you start to feel a rare sense of accomplishment as you slowly master each new maneuver he throws at you.
But as the session intensifies Azriel begins to push you harder, increasing the pace and complexity of the drills. His softness changed into some else. You knew he was only pushing you to help but it was starting to become a little too much. You’d only been Fae for a year to his centuries. "Come on, Y/N, focus. You can handle this," he urges. Throwing a series of rapid, controlled strikes that you're meant to block and counter.
For a moment you rise to the challenge your movements sharp and sure. Yet the physical strain is relentless. All too soon it starts to mirror the inner struggled you've been trying to manage. The boundaries between physical exertion and emotional pain blur… each block and dodge feeling more like a fight against your inner demons rather than a simple training exercise.
Suddenly, one of Azriel's strikes comes a little too close, a little too fast. It isn't meant to hit you and it doesn't but the rush of air as it passes by your face triggers something within you. Panic seizes your chest and the walls you've been holding up begin to crumble. Your movements falter. Your hands drop to your sides rapidly as your breath catches in your throat.
You step back abruptly with short, ragged breaths. Azriel stops immediately, concern replacing the intensity in his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks all too softly this time. He watched with concern as you struggled to compose yourself.
You nod rapidly trying to blink back the tears that want to rush out. “I’m fine. Just tired.” You murmur. It didn’t even sound believable to you. You turned you back to him so he wouldn’t see the distraught look on your face.
He steps forward with a sadness etched deeply on his features. "It's more than just tiredness, isn't it?" he asks gently as he reached out but stopped short, giving you space yet showing his readiness to support.
You shake your head again trying to compose yourself. Willing yourself to rebuild the barriers crumbling around you. "I'm fine, really, just got a little carried away," you offer weakly with your back still turned, fearing that facing him might reveal too much.
But Azriel doesn’t retreat. Instead, his shadows do what he physically refrains from—they reach out for you. You feel a cool, soothing sensation as one shadow gently curls around your arm, not binding but comforting. It was like a silent message of empathy and support. The unexpected kindness, the soft touch of darkness that doesn’t demand or judge, only seeks to comfort. But it undoes you completely.
Your defenses shatter at the tender contact. Tears finally spilling over as you turn back to face him. The floodgates opened by the gentle brush of his shadow. "I'm not fine," you admit, your voice choked with emotion. "It's all just... it's too much sometimes. I feel like I'm drowning in what I had to do. In what Feyre had to endure because of me. All because of me."
Azriel listens with his gaze never wavering. His eyes were filled with compassion and a profound understanding. His shadow retracts slightly giving you a moment, respecting your space while keeping the silent promise of his presence.
He nods his head willing you to continue. "Let it out, Y/N. You don't have to carry this alone," he says quietly finding the courage to step closer now. He opened his arms to you in an offer of comfort that you no longer have the strength to refuse.
As you step into his embrace, allowing yourself to be held, the warmth of his body contrasts with the cool touch of his shadows creating a cocoon of safety around you. "I was the one who killed the wolf that started this whole mess," you confess through sobs. Your words muffled against his chest. "Feyre took the blame to protect me... because she thought I couldn't handle the consequences."
“It’s okay,” he whispers. His voice close to your ear. “You were never meant to carry this alone.” He pauses. His hand gently lifting your chin so you can look at him. “Feyre’s path was her own. Fate had a hand in it. She was meant to meet Rhysand through Tamlin. To find her way to the Night Court. It couldn’t have been you, Y/N. Your path is different and it’s still unfolding.”
You shake your head feeling the weight of it all. “But-“
Azriel’s hold tightens reassuringly. His wings stretched around you before he stops you. “She did what she believed was right, out of love. And now you need to allow yourself to be loved and supported, too. Let your family be here for you. Let me be here for you.” he pleads, his tone imbued with a promise. In the safety of Azriel’s wings with the gentle embrace of his shadows, you feel a lightness you haven’t felt in a long time.
Beneath the shelter of his wings Azriel holds you close feeling the profound shift within as your eyes meet. In that moment a golden thread previously unseen but always present tightens, binding your soul to his. The mating bond ignites with a radiant force, undeniable and transformative.
This newfound connection stirs a deep protectiveness in Azriel, an urge to cherish and guard you that feels both ancient and freshly awakened. Love pulses through this bond unspoken yet palpable aligning his heartbeat with yours. He experiences a profound sense of belonging, understanding now that every moment with you, every shared concern, was leading to this revelation.
With the emergence of the bond, Azriel, who often cloaked himself in mystery, finds in you a clarity that illuminates his existence. This bond does not overwhelm; instead, it completes him, brightening his path forward. The world around him expands promising a journey not walked alone but side by side, in step with each breath.
Yet, the magnitude of this discovery brings a mix of elation and a daunting sense of responsibility. You are vulnerable, your soul laid bare before him, and he is cautious not to burden you further. Internally, Azriel grapples with the desire to declare the bond versus the need to provide you with stability and support without the shock of this revelation.
He resolves to keep this monumental discovery to himself for now, focusing on being your steadfast support. His shadows as a subtle extension of his will, curl gently around you both. They offered a protection and comfort without overwhelming you with the truth.
Azriel knows he must seek Rhysand’s counsel to navigate the complexities of this bond with sensitivity and respect for your emotions. As he holds you he silently vows to take this journey at a pace that honors both your readiness and the bond’s potential. Wrapped in his embrace, Azriel stands as your guardian bonded by fate yet guided by a deep respect for the journey your heart needs to undertake.
"You've been strong today," Azriel whispers into your hair as he senses your grip tighten. "Let's head back home. You need rest." His voice is as soothing as the twilight and his offer is tender, without any urgency that might hint at the truth simmering beneath his calm exterior.
The walk back from the training grounds is quiet, filled with a companionable silence that speaks of shared struggles and mutual care. As Azriel guides you to Feyre's studio, where she immerses herself in swathes of color and light, his touch lingers reassuringly on your arm. It's an affirmation of his presence, his support, his unspoken pledge to be there for you, come what may.
You offer him a soft smile. One that acknowledges the solace his presence brings even though you were still oblivious to the tectonic shift in his inner landscape. Azriel returns your smile with a quiet intensity, a vow that when the time comes for the bond to reveal itself to you he'll be there, just as he is now—steadfast, protective, and utterly devoted.
A subtle shift in Azriel’s demeanor as he prepares to leave catches Feyre's sharp eye. There's a fleeting tension, a trace of something potent and profound flickering in the depths of his usually inscrutable eyes. It's a glimpse of vulnerability. An undercurrent of panic that he's quick to disguise but not before Feyre takes note. Something significant has unsettled the shadowsinger and it likely had to do with you.
With a nod that holds more gravity than usual Azriel turns to go. His steps are measured but the urgency in his exit is apparent to anyone who knows him well. Once he steps beyond the view of the townhouse his wings unfurl, a dark silhouette against the Velaris skyline. He takes to the air with a speed driven by the need for counsel. For understanding the newly realized bond weighing on him with a mix of awe and anxiety.
He lands at the House of Wind with an intensity that is uncharacteristic for him. His feet touching down on the stone with a thud. There's no time for hesitation as he makes his way to where he knows he'll find Rhysand, perhaps Cassian too. The door to the study bursts open under his force and he stands there as a figure riddled with the shock of his own heart's awakening.
Inside the study, Rhysand and Cassian pause mid-conversation as the unexpected clamor announces Azriel's approach. Concern flickers over their faces. A stark, thunderous arrival is not Azriel's way.
"Are you alright, Az?" Cassian is the first to react. His voice tinged with concern as he notes Azriel's agitated state.
Azriel pauses before catching his breath. His demeanor one of a man grappling with overwhelming news. "It's the mating bond," he manages to say with his voice tight of emotion. "With Y/N—it just... it just snapped into place."
Rhysand rises from his chair. His expression shifting to one of understanding as he processes Azriel's words. The air in the room thickens with the significance of his declaration and there's a moment of collective stillness as they all absorb the meaning.
Cassian’s previous levity fades into a solemn gravity, reflecting the seriousness of Azriel's revelation. "That’s... big news, Az. How are you feeling about this?" he asks as he stepped closer in caution.
Rhysand, maintaining his composure, offers a supportive nod. "This is a momentous time, Azriel. We’re here for you, whatever you need," he assures him embodying the role of the leader who understands the profound implications of such a bond.
Azriel exhales deeply the reality of the situation settling in. "It's overwhelming," he concedes. A frown creasing his brow. "I mean, I hoped, maybe even wished for it. But now that it’s here, it feels... heavy." He looks up. His expression serious. "She’s still healing. I need to be careful. Need to make sure this doesn’t overwhelm her."
Rhysand gives a supportive nod. "Just keep being there for her, Az. You’ve always managed to support her without pushing. This doesn’t change your approach just your understanding of the connection."
Cassian smirks, pushing off from the table and clapping Azriel on the back with a bit more force than necessary. "Look at you all serious and broody—more than usual, I mean. Come on, Az, you know you're probably the only one who can handle this with the perfect blend of mystery. Besides," he adds with a wry grin, "have you seen the way she looks at you when you're not looking? That’s not just gratitude my friend. It’s like she’s hit the jackpot and she doesn’t even know it yet."
Azriel can’t help but crack a small smile despite the turmoil inside. "Thanks, Cass. I just don’t want to mess this up."
"Don’t worry so much, brother," Cassian chuckles, his tone light but earnest. "You’re doing fine. Plus, if you start floating around like a lovestruck bat, I’ll be here to pull you back down."
Rhysand laughs softly before shaking his head at the general. "He’s right, though. Take it step by step, Azriel. Let her come to terms with her own feelings. When she’s ready it’ll be right for both of you."
Feeling somewhat lighter Azriel nods appreciatively at his brothers. "Step by step," he repeats, firming his resolve. With a final nod he steps back into the night bolstered by the mix of Cassian’s humor and Rhysand’s leadership. He was ready to face the future with a heart full of hope and a mind cautious of the delicate balance he needs to maintain.
Back in the townhouse Feyre greets you with that mischievous grin that heralds some sisterly teasing. She sets her paintbrush down before wiping her hands on a cloth as her eyes sparkle with playful curiosity. "So, what did you do to him?" she teases with a smirk on her face.
You frown genuinely puzzled by her question. "What? Nothing, I... we were just training, then he said he had to go." Your voice trails off mirroring your confusion over Azriel's sudden change in demeanor.
Feyre chuckles, shaking her head as she picks up her brush again. "That man is always so mysterious. But don't worry it's probably just Azriel things. Or maybe, just maybe, you're the perfect distraction for our dear spymaster."
"What are you on about?" you ask while feeling a mix of amusement and bewilderment at her jest.
"Oh, please!" Feyre laughs, her brush dancing over the canvas. "He looks at you like every moment you spend together is something precious. Like you're a rare painting he can't quite believe he's stumbled upon."
"You're imagining things," you dismiss her. Shaking your head with a smile. "Azriel is just being kind. He's like that with everyone."
Feyre gives you a knowing look. Her smirk broadening. "Sure, he’s kind to everyone, but with you it’s different. He doesn’t look at anyone else quite like he looks at you. Like you’ve cast a spell on him and he’s trying to figure out how to live with the enchantment."
Her words make you pause. The playful insinuation tugging at the edges of your thoughts. Despite your dismissal Feyre’s observation lingers. A teasing possibility that maybe there's a hint of truth in her playful assertions. The room fills with your laughter, a sound that masks the flutter of curiosity her words have sparked.
Unbeknownst to you while you puzzle over Azriel's sudden departure, Feyre's mind is swiftly connecting with Rhysand's. A silent inquiry flits through their bond: Something's up with Azriel, he seemed... off. Did I miss something?
Rhysand's mental response comes with a chuckle that Feyre can almost hear: He’s fine, love. Just had a bit of a revelation. He’ll share when he's ready.
A spark of mischief lights up Feyre’s eyes as understanding dawns on her. Her lips curve into a sly, knowing grin. But she carefully masks any hint of her newfound knowledge from you. "You know, I think we deserve some fun today. Just us twins. You’ve been pushing hard with all that training and brooding," she suggests. Her voice bubbling with an excitement that piques your curiosity.
"Really? What did you have in mind?" you ask. Your earlier confusion over Azriel's behavior giving way to intrigue at Feyre's sudden enthusiasm.
"Oh, just a day for us to unwind and maybe get into a little mischief," Feyre replies, winking. "We can leave the mysteries of shadowy spymasters behind and focus on spoiling ourselves."
You laugh while nodding in agreement, relieved to set aside the morning's puzzles. "That sounds perfect, actually."
As the day unfolds with Feyre leading the way with her occasional secretive smiles and the warmth of her company envelop you, making you feel cherished and a part of something larger than just sisterly bonding. Every now and then she throws you a look filled with unspoken laughter as if she's in on a joke that’s yet to be told adding an intriguing layer to your day out.
"Enjoy today," Feyre says at one point. Her grin infectious. "Because who knows? Tomorrow you might find yourself swept off your feet in ways you never expected." Her words are light, but they dance with implication, leaving you wondering about the possibilities that tomorrow might bring.
As the days unfold since your training session you begin to notice an unusual shift in Azriel's behavior when he's around you. Always the quiet, stoic presence, he now seems to carry an air of nervousness that is both surprising and endearing. It's as if he's forgotten how to be around you. His typically smooth demeanor replaced with an awkwardness that sends a ripple of amusement throughout your days.
During your daily routines, whether you're practicing combat skills or just strolling through the lush gardens of the Night Court, Azriel is consistently by your side. Yet, his typical quiet confidence seems to falter. Today when he hands you a training sword his fingers not only linger but also tremble slightly against yours. The contact is brief but the moment his skin brushes against yours a visible blush creeps up his neck coloring his cheeks in a rare show of discomposure.
"Sorry," he stutters. Quickly retracting his hand as if scorched by the brief contact. He averts his gaze making sure to look anywhere but at you. His discomfort palpable in the tight set of his shoulders.
You can't help but tilt your head eyeing him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Azriel, are you alright?" you ask with a hint of a smile on your lips. Your voice is soft though hoping to ease some of his evident tension. The gardens around you bloom vibrantly. A stark contrast to Azriel’s suddenly flustered state.
He clears his throat attempting to regain some of his usual composure. "Yes, I'm... fine," he manages. His voice a notch higher than usual. He meets your gaze again holding it for a moment longer than he intends. The intensity of his stare both confusing and thrilling.
Just then as if to spite Azriel, Cassian strolls by and upon noticing Azriel's flushed face and your puzzled expression he can't help but let out a snicker. "Lost your cool, Shadowsinger?" he teases, winking at you before continuing on his way with a chuckle. "You’re usually smoother than this, brother!"
Azriel shoots Cassian a brief glare but there's a resigned humor in his eyes that suggests he knows just how out of character he must seem. As Cassian’s laughter fades into the distance Azriel finally turns back to you attempting a sheepish smile.
"It seems I'm a bit out of sorts today," he admits. His voice finally steadying. "Nothing to worry about, really."
Watching Azriel grapple with this uncharacteristic awkwardness only endears him more to you. There’s a sweetness in his struggle. A reminder that beneath the composed façade of the Night Court’s spymaster lies a depth of emotion rarely seen but profoundly felt.
On a tranquil afternoon in the Night Court, you find yourself relaxing in one of the quieter gardens alongside Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. The air is filled with gentle laughter and the soft rustling of leaves. Cassian and Nesta are notably absent, presumably because Cassian has taken it upon himself to "help" Nesta with some errands—a pursuit that everyone knows often ends in playful bickering and affectionate banter.
Elain has also opted for a day out with Lucien exploring new botanical gardens on the outskirts of the city. Her passion for plants and Lucien's support in her endeavors showcases the growing bond between them.
The conversation flows easily until Rhys, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, steers it towards Azriel’s recent scouting mission. "Azriel here stumbled upon something quite intriguing recently, didn’t you?" he teases while watching Azriel closely.
Caught off-guard Azriel’s response is delayed, his eyes widening slightly as if Rhys had tread into forbidden territory. "It was nothing out of the ordinary," he finally mutters. Though his voice holds a trace of unease.
Feyre jumps into the fray. Her tone laced with playful curiosity. "Oh, but I heard it was quite the discovery. Rare and fascinating… something that might deeply engage a man’s interest."
You laugh completely oblivious to the underlying meaning and look at Azriel with raised eyebrows. "What was it, Az? Some kind of hidden gem or a lost artifact?"
There’s a brief moment where Azriel’s composure falters under your direct gaze, his eyes meeting yours before quickly glancing away. He recovers quickly, however, a slight flush on his cheeks. "Yes, something like that," he agrees, his voice steadying. "A discovery that could indeed change one’s perspective for a lifetime."
Rhys doesn't miss a beat adding with a light chuckle, "Let’s hope it’s not kept secret too long. Such treasures are better when shared, right?"
Feyre nods enthusiastically. Her eyes dancing with amusement. "Especially when they bring people closer together, right, Az?"
Azriel meets Feyre’s gaze. His expression settling into a subtle smile that hints at his deep thoughts. “Indeed,” he replies quietly, the single word rich with unspoken meaning, affirming the sentiment with his usual succinct eloquence.
As the conversation moves on the jokes and laughter continue, your heart warmed by the newfound perspective you found with them. Azriel watches you with a gentle, albeit slightly wistful smile. He noticed how much more you're around, how your laughter fills the air more often, and how your vibrant personality begins to shine through once more. His heart fills with a mixture of relief and deep affection, seeing the signs of your healing. In these moments he cherishes the progress you've made feeling hopeful about the future. He was ready to support you every step of the way as the true nature of his discovery waits to be shared with you.
As the weeks blend into months, the connection between you and Azriel deepens. It was nurtured by shared moments and his unwavering support. On a crisp evening as the sun begins its descent painting the sky with strokes of pink and gold, Azriel brings you to a secluded hilltop that overlooks Velaris. This spot was known only to him and offers a panoramic view of the city as it starts to twinkle with the first lights of evening, the natural grassy surface underfoot soft and inviting.
Standing close by his presence was both comforting and solid, Azriel shares a story, his voice low and warm, recounting a humorous mishap from his early days as a spymaster. The tale is endearing, revealing a less guarded side of him and laughter bubbles up freely from your throat.
As your laughter transitions into a soft chuckle, you turn to face him. The last rays of the sunset bathe Azriel in a warm, golden light that illuminates his features, casting a glow that outlines him like an ethereal halo. His eyes that were filled with affection and a hint of amusement, meet yours. In that instant something profound shifts within you.
It feels as if a key has turned, unlocking something wondrous and overwhelming. The mating bond, which has been delicately weaving its way through each of your interactions, now clicks into place with perfect clarity. The sensation is electrifying yet profoundly comforting. Resonating through your very being.
Your breath catches and your heart races—not just from the shock of the realization but from the undeniable rightness that surges through you. Azriel, noticing the subtle transformation in your expression halts his story. A flicker of concern crossing his face.
"Are you okay?" he asks with his voice tinged with worry. The humor from his story now replaced by attentive care.
A mix of joy and amazement washes over you as you feel a comforting swirl of his shadows around your feet. Like curious creatures affirming this new connection. "Azriel, I think... I think the mating bond just…," you trailed off unsure how to continue. Your voice was filled with awe. The realization brings a new depth to your smile as you meet his gaze which is now shimmering with a mixture of relief and happiness.
"That's what I've been feeling," Azriel breathes out, a tender smile spreading across his face as he steps closer. He reaches out gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I've been waiting, hoping you would feel it too when the time was right."
Taking his hand, you feel a warmth that goes beyond physical touch. A connection that seeps into the depths of your soul. "I’m glad it’s you," you say quietly, sincerely, the words flowing easily.
Azriel’s other hand comes up to gently cup your cheek. His touch feather light. "And I’m honored it’s you," he responds. His gaze locked with yours. The world around you—the city lights, the soft whisper of the evening breeze—fades into a gentle backdrop to the profound connection you share.
In this moment with Azriel’s shadows dancing around, playful, and protective, you feel a sense of completeness. A promise of endless possibilities. Together, bonded not just by fate but by a mutual understanding you know that whatever the future holds you'll get to navigate it side by side.
As the realization of the mating bond settles between you, Azriel's shadows seem to take on a life of their own. They swirled around you both with a newfound enthusiasm. The delicate tendrils of darkness weave around your legs and occasionally brush against your hands as if testing and reinforcing the connection that has just been acknowledged.
Azriel watches with a tender amusement as his shadows interact with you, their movements more animated than usual. "They seem to have taken quite a liking to you," he comments. His voice warm with affection and a hint of pride. "They're not usually this... attentive."
As the shadows continue their gentle dance around you, one particularly daring tendril snakes up your arm, its touch lighter than a feather. You can't help but laugh. The sound echoing softly in the quiet of the evening. With a delighted grin you reach out to trace the path of the shadow with your fingertips, marveling at the cool, tingling sensation it leaves on your skin.
Azriel continues watching with an affectionate roll of his eyes accompanying his half-smirk. "You're going to spoil them," he teases. His tone light but full of warmth.
Encouraged by your positive reaction another shadow playfully darts forward and mimics the motion of a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle with joy, your hand touching the spot in mock surprise and then you're both laughing. A shared moment of joy and wonder at the peculiar yet endearing behavior of the shadows.
Azriel shakes his head, but his eyes shine with amusement. "Now you've done it. They're going to expect this king of attention all the time," he jokes as the shadows around him swirled in what you swear could be shadowy laughter.
"You know, I think I'm okay with that," you respond still smiling as you watch the shadows retreat slightly, as if bashful from the attention. "They're quite charming. Just like someone else I know." You glance up at Azriel with a playful smirk. Enjoying the light flush that colors his cheeks at the compliment.
The shadows, seemingly pleased with their role in this light-hearted exchange, settle more calmly around you both like a contented sigh after a bout of laughter. The protective circle they form feels like a gentle embrace not just from Azriel but from all parts of him.
As the laughter fades Azriel's expression turns tender, his gaze softening as he searches your face looking for any sign of unease. "But seriously," he says with his voice low and earnest, "are you really okay?" His concern is palpable. The bond between you making every emotion, every nuance of feeling that much more intense and meaningful.
You meet his gaze feeling a surge of warmth from his sincere concern. Smiling gently, you nod, the tranquility of the moment filling you with a profound sense of peace. "I really am okay. For the first time in a long time," you admit. Your voice steady and sure. The confession feels like a significant acknowledgment of the journey you've been on and the role Azriel, and his shadows, have played in it.
Azriel's smile in response is radiant. A look of relief and happiness that brightens his entire demeanor. "That's all I’ve ever wanted to hear," he murmurs. His voice soft with emotion. He stands closer, his hand gently squeezing yours. "Come on, love," he whispers with a twinkle in his eyes. "Let's fly home."
With a graceful motion Azriel unfurls his expansive wings, the dark feathers shimmering under the starlight. The sight never fails to take your breath away. He wraps an arm securely around your waist, his touch reassuring. "Ready?" he asks. His voice a low rumble filled with excitement and anticipation.
With a nod you cling to him, feeling the rush of air as he leaps into the sky. Velaris unfolds below you. It was a gorgeous tapestry of lights and shadows. The wind was cool and exhilarating against your face. Flying with Azriel, held close against his chest, the city sprawling beneath you is an experience that feels as if it straddles the line between dream and reality.
The flight is swift and smooth. The quiet only broken by the rushing wind and the steady beat of Azriel's powerful wings. The world seems to shrink away, leaving only the two of you soaring through the night sky. As the House of Wind comes into view Azriel’s descent is gentle, a reminder of his skill and care for you.
You land softly on the balcony, the cool night breeze playing around you, still wrapped in the warmth of his embrace. Just as you touch down the laughter and lively banter of the Inner Circle reach your ears from inside.
As you and Azriel step through the grand doors of the House of Wind the lively atmosphere of the Inner Circle greets you. Cassian's booming voice fills the foyer as he spots you descending from the balcony. "Finally decided to join us, huh? Or were you two plotting to take over Velaris with your love-struck scheming?" he teases, winking not so conspicuously.
Rhysand joins in with a sly grin. His eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think they were busy weaving shadows and starlight. Look how they landed, like a pair of night-blooming flowers." His voice was laden with humor and draws a round of chuckles from around the room.
Feyre, Nesta, and Elain watch from the side, their expressions varying degrees of amusement and affection. Feyre's eyes meet yours and she gives you an approving nod. Her smile suggesting she understands more than she lets on. Nesta’s smirk is more enigmatic but supportive while Elain’s gentle gaze is filled with romantic delight at the scene unfolding before her.
Amid the teasing Azriel keeps you close, his arm remaining protectively around your waist. The warmth of his embrace reassures you. His presence a calming force against the good-natured ribbing. "Ignore them," he murmurs softly against your ear, just loud enough for you to hear over the laughter. His voice is rich with affection and a hint of playfulness that only you are privy to.
"You make it sound so easy," you whisper back, unable to suppress a smile feeling buoyed by the love filling the room.
As the evening progresses the light banter continues, with everyone occasionally casting teasing glances your way, making playful comments about the inseparable duo you and Azriel have become. Despite the jests there’s an underlying current of genuine happiness for you both. A celebration of the deepening bond that everyone seems to recognize and respect.
The night unfolds with shared stories, laughter, and an occasional clinking of glasses in toasts, not just to the night but to new beginnings and magical connections. As you stand by Azriel’s side, surrounded by friends who are more like family. You feel a profound sense of belonging and happiness. Here in the heart of the Night Court, under the watchful eyes of the stars and the soft glow of the city, you are home—not just in place, but in heart, bound by love, laughter, and the eternal dance of shadows and light.
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thatacotargirl · 6 days
Note
Hiii, I saw your posts about taking requests! (loving Shadows and Surprises btw 👏)
How about a nice fluffy one-shot (take your pick of the bat-boys 😊) where reader wakes up on her cycle with bloody sheets and bad cramps, and she starts apologising about the sheets but she's in a lot of pain, but he immediately takes care of her and pampers her (changes sheets, runs her a bath, gives tea and chocolate, lots of cuddles and kisses, etc)
Ahhh I love this, it's so cute! Thank you so much for the request - I hope enjoy!
Inbox is open for requests so please do send any through!
Warnings: blood, vomit, general pain (?)
A Cassian x Reader Imagine
It had been a few months since Rhysand had introduced you to his Inner Circle. What started off as a small part-time job working on his accounts and book-keeping turned into a full-time lifestyle. After the first 2 weeks of proving yourself invaluable to him and his Court, Rhys invited you to move into the House of Wind and work alongside him full-time. Your tiny studio apartment with mould, rats, and goodness knows what else inside the walls was not the most luxurious of lifestyles, and you had already grown so attached to the rest of the Inner Circle that you jumped at the opportunity. It also helped that you had developed a teeny tiny crush on the delicious male that was Cassian, so living in the same home as him made life just that little bit sweeter.
Life had, truthfully, never been better.
Yet today, you felt sluggish. Tired. Frustrated. And what made it worse was that you had no reason to feel that way. You had slept well, eaten well, trained that morning - you should be at the peak of your health. But today was finding every possible way to challenge you. After confusing an 8 for a 3 for the third time that afternoon, you threw your pen across the study in complete exasperation. What was going on!
At that moment, the study door cracked on a touch, and the familiar scent of Cassian wafted in.
"Are you ok in here y/n? I heard a bang?". A bang was an understatement considering you had chucked a gigantic book on the floor in your frustration that near shook the House.
"Yes I am fine" you replied through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and look at him. You had tears in your eyes for reasons you could not explain, and you didn't want him to see you like that. Why on earth were you now crying over a 3?!
Cassian walked over to you and gently held your chin, pulling your face to look at him. You breathed in his scent, feeling an instant calm, and took a deep breath. When your eyes met his, Cassian looked at you with concern.
"You look exhausted, y/n, have you been sleeping?" he asked.
"Yes, Cassian, I have been sleeping - I think I'm just having a bad day that's all" you replied, a little too harshly, pulling your eyes away from his so he couldn't see the tears re-forming in response to his gentle worrying. You response made Cassian's concern grow, so he bent down, scooped you off the chair, and carried you out of the study.
"CASSIAN PUT ME DOWN" you shouted, smacking at his shoulders, mindful to avoid his wings.
"Not a chance. You look like you need to sleep, and considering you nearly bit my head off when I asked, I am insisting that you at least humour me with a one hour nap" he retorted, carrying you up the stairs to the second floor. You noticed that you passed your own bedroom door, and had been walked straight into Cassian's. He put you down on his bed and walked over to draw his curtains. You started to protest, but you couldn't deny that his bed was particularly comfy, and his scent had such a calming effect on you that your lids were already getting heavy.
"Sleep", Cassian said, pulling the duvet up to your chin. "I will wake you in an hour".
You wanted to argue back, but you hadn't truly realised how tired you were, and with the warmth, the scent, the darkness, the quiet, you found yourself quickly drifting off for your Cassian-prescribed nap.
-
The door creaked open exactly one hour late, and Cassian froze. He couldn't sense a threat, couldn't see anyone in his room besides you still curled up asleep in his bed, but he could scent blood. He padded over to you, concern lacing his voice as he gentle called your name and shook your shoulder to wake you.
"y/n? It's been an hour, are you ready to get up?" he asked, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. You stirred and slowly leant up on your elbows, peering at him with half-asleep eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but suddenly felt yourself hit with an intense stomach cramp and your mouth watered with nausea. You flew from the bed, pushing Cassian to the side as you headed straight for his bathroom. A few moments later and Cassian was beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back.
When you had finished, he carefully leaned you back against the edge of the bathtub.
"Are you ok?" he asked, his face etched with worry.
"Better now I think", you replied, "I'm so sorry Cassian I don't know what came over me, maybe I ate something funny, I was feeling a bit off all day before you found me".
"So when I asked if you were ok earlier, you lied" he said, although the corners of his mouth tipped up into a small smile.
"Potentially" was all you could get out, before another wave of pain and nausea took over your body and you crawled back towards the toilet.
"I'm just going to head down and get you a glass of water, ok? Stay here" he ordered, before turning quickly on his heels and heading out.
After you had finished, Cassian still hadn't returned, so you decided to hoist yourself up and get back into his bed, feeling a bit better on the nausea side - although still having some stomach cramps. It was when you reached the side of the bed you had been sleeping on that you looked down and saw the large pool of blood covering the bed sheets. Gazing down, you realised it was not only covering the bed, but also covering you - bright red coating the entire inside seam of your pale blue leggings, almost down to your knees. You shook violently, panic and embarrassment taking over your entire body. You quickly threw Cassian's pillows on the floor and started to tear at the bedding, wanting to get it off and change it as quickly as you could before he could realise, but you had barely got half of the bed sheet off the giant bed before Cassian re-appeared in the doorway.
You turned to face him, a tray in his hands, and crumpled onto the floor. This is exactly what you needed today - the hot General that you have a major crush on has tried to do something nice for you and you have completely put your foot in it and destroyed his bed. Great. Just fab.
"Hey hey" Cassian quickly put the tray on his desk before dropping down to your level. "What's the matter?" he asked. You couldn't even get the words out between your sobs, gesturing blindly at the bed and yourself. You hid your face in your hands, utterly mortified.
Cassian's confusion was so evident that you dared to glance up at him. "Are you ok?" was all he asked. You nodded, then shook your head, then resumed sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and let you continue until your tears turned to small sniffs.
"I guessed when I opened the door" he said quietly, his hands stroking through your hair. "Your mad dash to the toilet was all the confirmation I needed - you almost sent me flying off the bed and, whilst I train you well, you're not normally that strong" he teased.
"I'm so sorry" was all you could get out, head still buried in his chest.
"Nonsense, what is there to be sorry about?" he asked.
"I ruined your bed".
Cassian laughed and helped you both stand up. "I quite literally cause people to bleed for a living. A bit on my bed is hardly cause for concern". He guided you over to the tray he had brought upstairs.
"So, I have got you some peppermint tea to help with the nausea, Rhys gave me a tonic he gives to Feyre to help with the pain - but he said Feyre always complains about how bad it tastes, so there's a lemon drop sweet for after just in case - and I stole a slice of Elain's chocolate cake that was in the fridge because I thought you might like that - oh and some cheese. I'm not sure why, but I thought you might want some, I always think cheese helps make any situation better, but maybe not if you've been sick..."
He was so excited as he showed you all the goodies he had found for you that your embarrassment fell away completely, even though you realised he must have announced your situation to the entire house downstairs. Before you could make any comment, he grasped your shoulders and walked you back to the bathroom, where the House had run you a lavender scented bath.
"Hop in the bath, freshen up, and you can enjoy the cake" he said, with a beam. He handed you a fresh set of pyjamas he had taken from your room and closed the door behind himself to give you some privacy.
After your soak, you changed and headed back into his bedroom. The sheets were fresh, with no sign of your incident, and Cassian was lounging on his side with a book in hand. You noticed that the book you had been reading, a smutty romance recommended by the House, was resting on the other pillow. Cassian must have grabbed it from your room when he got the pyjamas. He smiled at you when you came back and offered you a hand to climb onto the bed next to him.
"You are staying in here tonight, ok?" he said, "I don't want you to be alone and refuse help if you need it, especially since you were so stubborn earlier".
You laughed, quite happy to stay in Cassian's bed. He pulled the tray over to you both and offered you the peppermint tea and a fork for the chocolate cake.
"OH WAIT, take the tonic first!" he said, handing it to you. Feyre was right, it was disgusting. But, it did help the dull ache in your stomach, enough so that you were able to happily enjoy your slice of stolen chocolate cake. You made a mental note to apologise to Elain tomorrow.
After you were quite full and content, and had settled down to read for a while, you felt your eyes getting heavy again. Cassian noticed, and pulled you into him. You revelled in the comfort, enjoying every moment of it - you didn't think you'd ever get another chance to be this close to him and you certainly weren't going to pass it up.
"Sleep", he said "it'll help". He started to read aloud from his book, helping you to ease into a deep, deep sleep. One of the best sleeps of your life.
"Thank you, Cassian, for everything" you mumbled, eyes closed.
"You are welcome, y/n" he replied, pulling you closer to his body.
You were silent then, your body and eyes heavy, your brain slowly quieting and shutting down for the night. You felt Cassian lean down, assuming you had fallen asleep, and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. As sleep called to you, you heard him very quietly whisper into the dark, "I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, y/n".
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captainsophiestark · 3 months
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The Hard Call
Azriel x Reader
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Requeted by Anon! Nonnie, thank you for enabling me to write about Az and Flynn, I absolutely love you for it ❤️ Feel free to drop by any time you want to talk anything SJM-related! Hope you like this, and good news, I have a Flynn fic coming in the next couple days too!
Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses
Summary: Azriel made the hard call when he had to, but he's feeling pretty guilty about it.
Word Count: 1,610
Category: Angst, Fluff
WARNING: House of Flame and Shadow spoilers below the cut!
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I swore under my breath as Nesta jammed Ataraxia into the back of the Daglan, the Asteri, whatever it was called. Black blood spurted out of its mouth, but a moment later, the thing—Vesperus—pushed back against the tip of the blade and removed it from her chest. It shouldn't have been possible for something to survive a direct hit like that from Nesta and that sword, but a lot of things from the past few days shouldn't have been possible.
When a fae female had landed in a heap on the River House lawn in front of my mate, I knew we were in for some strange new challenges. But never in a million years could I have predicted the journey she'd led us on through tunnels apparently running all under the Night Court, straight into the heart of the Prison. And now we were facing down one of the most dangerous creatures in the universe, just me, Az, and Nesta, with the female Bryce as an unreliable additional ally.
I tightened my grip on my sword and tried to calm my racing heart as I stood shoulder to shoulder with Azriel. We'd gotten through countless life and death situations together before, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure we'd be able to get out of this one.
Vesperus gave Nesta a horrifying smile as the wound in her chest quickly healed. I glanced to Az, but he kept his eyes locked on the monster before us.
"Ataraxia didn't work," Nesta breathed. "The Trove-"
"Do not summon the Trove," barked my mate. Based on what we knew about this thing before us, I immediately agreed. "Don't bring it near her."
"But-"
"Not even for our lives," he snarled, leaving no room for argument. The same harsh resolve solidified itself in my mind, and I braced myself for the possibility of a last stand. At least if we went down, it would be fighting side by side with my mate.
A flicker of shadows floating softly over my shoulders was the only indication that my mate felt the same. The Daglan grinned, and I got ready to pounce.
****************
Hours later, I sat slumped in my favorite chair in the Velaris townhouse, trying to recover from everything that had happened under the prison. We'd managed to kill the Daglan-Asteri, despite Bryce trying to question it, no matter the risk to our world. But she had gotten away in an impressive display of power, which meant her world's Asteri might have a chance at using her to find us.
Needless to say, when Az, Nesta, and I had made it out of the Prison, we'd had a lot to debrief about with the rest of the Inner Circle.
Nobody was happy about the situation we now found ourselves in, but for the time being, there was also nothing we could do about it. So once we made a basic plan to try to gather information and prepare in case something from that other world came back, we all split off for our separate tasks. Az still had a few things to go over with Rhys, but I was free for the time being, so I'd come to my favorite cozy spot in Velaris to try to come down from the insane adrenaline that had been pumping since Bryce got here.
One perk of Rhys and Feyre building the River House and Nesta keeping Cassian at the House of Wind more often was that the townhouse, my personal favorite location, was often free for Az and I to use as our own. I closed my eyes in my favorite armchair by the fire, still in my fighting leathers, and focused on taking deep breaths to try to get the tension out of my shoulders.
I'd actually almost managed to drift off to sleep when I heard the front door open and shut heavily. I didn't need to look to know Az had just arrived, so with a deep sigh to drag me back from the edge of sleep, I raised my head and turned to look at my mate.
"Everything figured out with Rhys?" I asked. He nodded once, moving into the room with a face like stone. I frowned, sitting up and paying a little better attention as he took a seat on the couch, his gorgeous hazel eyes never leaving mine. "What's wrong?"
A muscle in Az's jaw ticked, and I knew he was mustering a response to my words. Despite his reputation as the unreadable spymaster, all our time together as friends and then as mates had given me a leg up on everyone else who tried to read his expressions.
I stood from my seat in the armchair and moved to sit before Az on the couch instead, taking his hands in mine. His eyes searched my face, and I let a small smile work its way through the exhaustion, trying to put him at ease. He could take however long he needed to, and I'd be ready to listen when he wanted to talk.
"I'm... sorry."
I raised an eyebrow. "For what, exactly?"
That muscle in his jaw was working over time, the rest of his face the same inscrutable mask he'd worked so hard to perfect.
"For what happened in the Prison. For... being willing to let you die down there, rather than risk Nesta summoning the Trove. You deserve a better mate than that."
My jaw dropped, shock preventing me from responding for a few small moments. Az just kept staring at me, and even though his face didn't show it, I could feel the guilt eating him up at his core.
"Az, you have nothing to apologize for!" I finally managed. One of his eyebrows quirked up and he frowned, expressing doubt at my words without speaking one of his own. I huffed and squeezed his hands tighter.
"Listen to me, Azriel. The reason you are my mate is because you made that decision in the Prison. We both know that letting something like that into the world with a weapon like the Mask is an unacceptable option, as long as there is anything in this world we can do to prevent it. If the Daglan or the Asteri or whatever she was had gotten her hands on the mask, it probably would've cost the lives of everyone we've ever cared about, and the rest of this world along with it. Nothing is worth allowing that to happen."
Az ground his jaw, his gaze softening and his eyebrows furrowing as he continued to scan my face.
"Are you... sure? Cassian and Rhys... I think they'd tear the world to shreds for their mates."
I just shrugged. "For what? If the world is gone, if the cost of that choice is absolutely everything else, then what's the point of saving each other in the first place? We'd have nothing left, other than the blood of the world on our hands."
Az grunted, and I shifted closer to him, bringing one hand up to cup his cheek.
"Az. I love you, so much, and a part of that love is because you're not so selfish as to risk throwing the world away for me. Especially since, more likely than not, we'd be dead anyway not long after she got that mask. Neither of us is selfish enough to make a call like that, and I love that about us. The only thing that matters is that we stand together as long as we can, and I knew damn well in the cave that if either of us was going down, we were going down side by side, fighting to our last breath. Obviously I'm happy we both made it out of there, and I'm not saying we shouldn't fight for each other, but that call you made today? I'd be pissed if you'd made a different one."
Az studied me for another second, and I let him see every truth and emotion written in my face. Finally, he sighed, the tension going out of his shoulders as he reached out and pulled me closer to him, arms around my waist. I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling my hands in his hair. We'd almost died today, and I wasn't about to take the fact that we were both still here together for granted.
"Have I mentioned lately how happy I am to have you as my mate?" Az asked, his voice a little gravelly as he leaned in closer to me. I smiled, leaning forward and letting my lips ghost over his own.
"Yeah, actually, you have. But I'll never complain about hearing it again."
Az smirked, then gently closed the last of that distance between us, his lips brushing softly against mine. I leaned into the kiss, eager for more contact, and I could feel Az's smirk widening right before I deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me as tight to his body as possible, and I tangled my hands in his hair, letting myself get swept up in him.
I'd meant every word I'd said to my mate, about the choice he'd made and how I felt about it. But I was also incredibly happy it hadn't come down to the cost of our lives, and that we'd made it out of there together. And now that Official Night Court Business had been taken care of, I intended to fully celebrate and appreciate Azriel, and the fact that we were still here together. And I knew he intended to do the same.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989
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sillymercury · 2 months
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I’m Not the Crazy One, She Is!
Azriel x Reader
<3
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Warnings: Slight suggestiveness and swearing
Word count: 7.7k (idk I went a lil cray)
Summary: You weren’t trying to kill your neighbor, honestly, you were just defending yourself. But that crazy fae and her antics land you in a holding cell. Luckily for you, getting arrested turns out to be much more fun than you ever anticipated.
<3
My face was set into a hard line as I sat on the curb outside of Rita’s. The sound of the bar closing early was clearly audible from the spot the lawman had told me to sit and not move. Patrons exited with grumbling and angry faces, some glared as they passed and I could only offer apologetic smiles. I was already uncomfortable enough without the condescending stares and occasional curses.
The cool air pushed my hair around and with my hands magically bound behind my back I was repeatedly spitting strands out of my mouth. My thin dress provided no solace against the cold stone under my ass and the unrelentingly wind was only making it worse. I was beyond uncomfortable but the civil servants didn’t seem to care.
This wasn’t fair; it’s not like I started the fight, I just finished it.
I’ve never been a fighter per se, but I’ve also never let someone walk all over me and at this point I’d had enough. The crazy bitch to my left was currently raging against the other two patrols, thrashing around and spitting on their uniform. I scoffed as she screamed obscenities and pushed the female off of her with a hard kick to the chest.
“See!” I exclaimed at the patrol that was half watching me and half watching his colleges struggle to detain the crazed fae. “She’s fucking crazy! Obviously I’m the victim here.”
His eyes moved to mine and I widened them for emphasis, he responded with a scoff of his own. “It took all three of us to drag you off of her,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “not to mention multiple witnesses are willing to testify that most of the property damage was your fault.” His eyes narrowed as he dared me to challenge the statement.
I just leaned back and kicked my legs out with a huff. A couple of chairs, tables, some glasses, some bottles, a few bystanders, and an already weak wall wasn’t enough. I should’ve thrown her into or hit her with something else. Even now, watching her childish display had me itching to go put her in her place all over again.
“Listen, I’m a cool fae. Calm and collected, I don’t start problems. Her,” I jerked my elbow into the direction of the female that wasn’t slowing down, “on the other hand, does. None of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t come up to me. She was pulling my hair and scratching at my eyes! What would you have done?”
I leaned forward expectantly, I knew he agreed. Instead of confirming he just shook his head and looked away. Back-up had finally arrived and three of the four officers assisted in detaining the wild one. One of them used whatever magic they possessed to temporarily knock her out for transport. The remaining lawman approached where I was sitting and looked me up and down.
“I take it you’re the one who fought her?” I looked over at the unconscious female that was being slung over a shoulder and just nodded with a light shrug. “Can’t say I blame ya,” he responded in a much more relaxed tone than the first officer.
“Thank you!” I exclaimed as he helped me onto two feet. I threw the first patrol a look that said everything I was thinking which he only responded with another shake of his head. I didn’t miss the light smile he had and in that moment I felt like I had this in the bag. I assumed I would get a warning, maybe a slap on the wrist and be sent on my way. I hoped that they would lock her up in some far off dungeon and throw away the key.
The new officer grabbed my elbow lightly before winnowing us to the station. I suppressed my groan as I took in the depressing scene. Gray walls, gray floors, gray bars that lined different holding cells on the back wall. The room was packed with multiple desks where about 15 officers sat, some with either with victims or perpetrators in front of them. Every desk though had stacks of papers that threatened to spill to the floor.
I followed diligently behind the officer as he led me farther and farther to the back. I prayed that he would stop at any of the empty desks but he didn’t stop until he reached the cells. He opened up the metal door and looked at me expectantly.
“Wait, I have to go in there?” My voice was slightly shrill and I couldn’t contain the breaths that were coming out rapidly. The cop just raised his eyebrows and nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “For how long? I have to work in the morning. I can’t be here all night!”
The officer just chuckled and shrugged, “Well I’ve got about a hundred other things on my to do list. I guess you should’ve thought about that before destroying thousands of marks worth of property and assaulting someone.”
My hands shook behind my back and I suddenly understood what made that female rage against the law. I wanted to do anything, everything to keep me out of that cell. Screaming, crying, fighting, biting… whatever it would take to keep me out of there. I knew though that none of it would work, it would just make my situation worse. Begrudgingly I forced my heavy feet to carry me into the cell, all the way to the bench on the back wall. I sat with a plop and depression marred my face as I watched the cop lock the door.
I hit my head against the wall with a groan as I thought about what led me here, my stupid crazy neighbor. But seemingly my luck didn’t run out, it was still finding ways to make the situation worse. My neighbor didn’t just live next to me, her limp body was also parked in the cell next to mine. I cursed the wall for not being solid, instead it was just a row of metal bars keeping us apart.
Eventually her body began to stir as she woke up and I mentally prepared myself. Not only for her grating voice but for the verbal abuse that would accompany it.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Morrigan called out to her slow moving family, “We’re burning nighttime!”
Feyre laughed as she hauled Rhys off the couch and hollered one more time for Nesta and Cassian. Azriel was ready, standing dutifully by Mor as he waited with her for the rest of their family. He only took off his leathers at the persistent pestering of Mor. Donning black pants and a black muscle tank, his dark shadows concealed most of him and he looked more like a black mass on two legs. Mor wore her famous color in a tight dress that flowed beautifully over her legs accompanied by a slit that ran to her hips. Feyre’s dress complimented Mor’s but in a deep blue that resembled the night sky, Rhys wore his usual tailored garb that matched the silver detailing on Feyre’s dress.
The couple approached the door and Rhys had a far off look in his eyes before speaking, “Looks like it’s just us… Nes and Cass are,” he cleared his throat before flashing a coy grin, “busy.”
“Eww,” Mor muttered Turing around and opening the door for everyone. “Whatever we’ll have fun on our own!” Mor screamed into the house and only the sound of something falling over upstairs answered her. She rolled her eyes before closing the door behind her.
The pairs made their way through cobble stone roads aiming for their favorite bar. At least once a week Mor would drag them out demanding a good time and she always got her wish. Her and Feyre linked arms as they skipped and the boys walked in a comfortable silence behind them.
“Gonna pick up any ladies tonight?” Rhys nudged his brothers shoulder as he teased, “I know Mor will. Wouldn’t want you to have to spend the night listening to everyone else enjoy themselves.” Rhys chuckled as he pondered all the different ways to get Feyre out of that form fitting dress. Azriel shook his head, already knowing where his brothers mind had gone.
A small smirk snuck its way onto his lips, “I suppose I could indulge.”
“Ooo hoo hoo!” Rhys jested, “My brother, the fox.” A low chuckle left Az’s lips as he just shook his head again. The light air that surrounded themselves dropped when the girls stopped skipping to take in the scene in front of them.
All of the lights in Rita’s was on and crowds of people were formed outside. There were multiple patrols going in and out of the bar and some of them were taking statements from the bystanders. Some of the individuals were with medics, either being bandaged or given ice to sooth wounds. Azriel switched gears in the blink of an eye, going from easing going brother to spymaster as he detached to scope the scene.
“What the hell!” Mor practically screeched as she pushed through the crowded street, heading into the pub. Rhys and Feyre shared a glance that conveyed their confusion and worry before following Mor inside.
The place was a wreck. Multiple tables were broken and shards of chairs were strewn about. Wherever there wasn’t wood chips there was broken glass and the stench of the alcohol that covered the floor attacked their senses upon arrival. The wall that separated the entry way to the hall looked like it had been chopped up with an ax and Rita was behind the bar surveying the scene with distress.
“What happened?” Mor asked after rounding the bar and taking a defeated looking Rita into her arms.
“Bar fight.” She said simply, “I’m going to have to shut down for the rest of the week. Some of my best bottles are now in puddles on the floor, and that alone’ll take a month to get a new shipment in.”
Mor looked pissed and Rhys’ expression wasn’t far behind. To see his families favorite oasis in disarray and people of his court injured had redness creeping up his neck and threatening his face.
An officer strolled in and bowed to his high lord and lady before addressing Rita, “We’ve taken multiple statements and taped off the scene. There’s not much more we can do at the moment but we’ll be back to collect damage report.” Rita nodded understandingly but Mor wasn’t having it.
“Not much more to do?!” Her voice was loud as she screamed, “Look around! Look at this place! This… this is a crime!” She was irrational at the moment, she obviously didn’t expect the officers to clean up the scene but she wanted- needed- something to be done.
“Yes…” the cop blinked before straightening and clearing his throat, “it is. We are taking this very seriously. The suspects are already in custody so there isn’t really anything else we can do.” He seemed nervous as he remembered who he was talking to. His eyes darted between a flabbergasted Mor and his high lord, Rhys just nodded and that seemed to calm him down before he practically ran away.
“I am going to kill whoever did this,” Mor seethed, her hands shaking. Rita was her friend and this was her favorite spot in the city, she felt as though the crime was done specifically to her. “I mean- what? What are we going to do?”
Rita just shook her head but Rhys’ attention was redirected when Azriel materialized next to him.
“Bar fight, between two females. Subject A attacked subject B and B used her powers to fight off A. 3 bystanders were injured and by the looks of it,” Azriel keen eyes raked over the room before turning back to Rhys, “thousands in damage.”
Rhys let out a heavy sigh before placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Let’s go. I want to deal with these females myself.” Azriel nodded at his brothers words and there movements were halted.
“Do you want me to come?” Feyre asked, stepping over broken chairs and around puddles to reach them.
Rhys’ eyes softened as he took in his worried mate, her wide eyes scanning the scene for the hundredth time. “No, stay here. Do what you can to help and try to comfort Mor… and Rita.” His eyes danced over to Morrigan who was walking around the hall waving her hands and still screaming, she looked more distressed than Rita did. Feyre nodded and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, offering Az a supportive smile before making her way to Mor. With that the men shared a determined look before exiting the hall and making their way to the station.
At this point I was hitting my head against the cold wall repeatedly, not hard enough to hurt myself but enough to drown out the nagging from the cell next to mine.
The crazed female, Gala, had woken up and immediately began screeching. She pulled and tugged on the cage door and verbally assaulted any officer who passed. Her attention eventually shifted and she was now honed in on me.
“You selfish bitch! You couldn’t just let me have one night. One peaceful night without your presence! You had to show up and ruin everything! And now, I’m locked in a cage like some wild animal because you can’t control yourself!”
I didn’t want to, but I snapped, “You are a wild animal! I’m the one who doesn’t deserve to be locked up! You might be too dense to remember but you attacked me, I didn’t even know you were there!”
Gala began screeching again claiming that I was put here to ruin her life and I can’t help but indulged in her childish behavior. Something about this female irked me to my core and soon I was partaking in the screaming match through the bars.
The officer was who was unlucky enough to have his desk placed closest to the holding cells stood up so quick his chair fell over. He whipped around and glared with bloodshot eyes, “Shut up! Both of you! Or I’m adding disorderly conduct to your already long lists.”
Gala scoffed at that and I mimicked the sound, “Once again,” I said exasperated, “she started it!” The officer didn’t say anything else but a pointed finger came through the bars. His finger shook with his barely contained rage before he looked to Gala who was mumbling about police incompetence and gave her a finger as well. He turned around and quietly picked up his chair before going back to the gargantuan stack of papers on his desk.
After sitting back down I hit my head against the wall one last time shaking my head. All of the other ways the night could’ve ended mocked me as I closed my eyes.
“Don’t look so forlorn, not when it’s your fault,” Gala was determined to keep the argument going as she harshly whispered into my cell. She had her face squished between bars as she glared at me and continued her verbal lashing.
I counted my deep breaths as I tried to control the urge to reach through the bars and wring her neck. Images of me slamming her face into the bars repeatedly was my only solace as I tuned out her low shrieking. Even when she whispers she’s still incredibly annoying.
The venom kept spewing from her mouth until the same officer that brought me in came and unlocked my cell, I shot up and prayed for freedom. He unlocked Gala’s cell too and had the mind to hold her arm, “There’s someone here to see you two,” his tone was borderline teasing and he led us away from all the desks. “He says he wants to handle this himself.”
I followed quietly behind as nerves overtook my body, was it the police chief? Was someone in Rita’s family a judge who wanted to dish out the worst punishment they could? Cold sweat threatened my brow as we made our way into a private office.
Gala was shoved into a leather chair and I stumbled into my own. The magical binds on my wrists made it hard to sit comfortably and I shifted around while the leather squeaked. The officer closed the door with a smile and at that Gala turned in her chair, glaring.
“Can you stop? Even your shifting is annoying me.”
“I’m annoying you?” I felt blood rush back to my face for the umpteenth time, “Well imagine how I felt when you grabbed my hair and started scratching my face!” Your voices were low but the venom was still there.
“Don’t act like you didn’t have it coming. You go out of your way to ruin my life any chance you get, showing up at Rita’s tonight… I know what you’re trying to do.”
My eyes widened and realization hit me, “Your crazy. You’re just fucking crazy.” That was the only answer. Gala was out of her fucking mind, that’s why even when I breathe she cries abuse.
The word crazy seemed to spark something and the screaming match started up again, this time in a lower tone. Something about the formidable air in the office kept us from getting too loud; but you can still scream a whisper.
I couldn’t even hear what she was saying over my own words but I knew it was bullshit so I continued to say all of the nasty things that popped into my head.
Our voices were haulted when a cool black mist came over the room, obstructing everything. I couldn’t see an inch in front of me as darkness encompassed the room and my entire body. It wasn’t mist, it was shadow, and it clung to me like a second skin. The anger was replaced by fear as I tried to determine what was happening, what had stolen my sight and dropped the rooms degree.
Eventually the shadow cleared and suddenly someone was on the other side of the desk, two someone’s.
The High Lord of the Night Court and his Spymaster. A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the power rolling off them in waves, pushing me further into the chair. They were the last people I expected to see, and the last people I wanted to deal with. There stoney expressions conveyed the anger that was rippling through them.
Rhysand sat poised in the large chair, narrowed eyes studying me and Gala while Azriel stood behind him, arms crossed over his chest with an emotionless face.
Normally I would drool at the sight. Two of the three most handsome men in Velaris, staring me down. Rhys’ perfectly carved face set to impose intimidation and Azriel… I’d seen the spymaster a few times in passing, but seeing him up close was a different story.
His high cheekbones that contoured into a perfect jaw, his Nubian nose that sat perfectly straight above plump lips, hazel eyes that shone through shadows, and a low taper fade that danced across his forehead lovingly. He was the embodiment of beauty, perfection in fae form, awe personified. I knew I should be scared, shaking where I sat, but something in the hazel warmed me, soothed me. I forced myself to look at Rhysand so I could have the right mind of being scared, and it worked.
He stared at us for a few minutes and the tension in the air grew, Gala was crazy but no crazy enough to lash out in front of her high lord, not yet at least. We both sat uncomfortably in the silence and now it was her leather chairs turn to squeak.
“So,” Rhys began, picking up the paper that was laid in front of him and looking it over, “Disturbing the peace, public intoxication, assault, aggravated assault, battery, criminal mischief, theft, resisting arrest, evading arrest, assault of an officer, intentional infliction of emotional distress, reckless endangerment, disorderly conduct, obstruction of justice, trespassing, vandalism, and last but not least hate crimes.” He laid down the paper and I couldn’t help but gape at the list he rattled off, there is no way I was being charged with all of that. Especially not the assaulting an officer or evading arrest, I know that was Gala but hate crimes? They can’t possibly believe I fought her because she is a lesser fae.
“This is quite the list you’ve racked up,” he spoke again his eyes zeroing in on me. I just looked down, ashamed. I wished my power was to reverse time. I would’ve never stepped foot into Rita’s if I knew it would land me here, a meeting with my high lord who seemed determined to dish out terrible punishment. “Do you have anything to say for yourselves.”
I just shook my head, finding my glittery heels very interesting.
“I do,” Gala spoke up, my head snapped to her and I saw a disgusting determination on her face. “I shouldn’t be here! I should be getting medical attention, therapy, a protection detail! I am clearly the victim here!”
I knew it didn’t help my case but I couldn’t help my eye roll. By the looks of it, I was the one in the wrong. I had a couple marks on my face that probably wouldn’t bruise as well as minor scratches around my eyes. Gala on the other hand, had bruises and cuts all over her exposed lilac skin. Her silver eyes were bloodshot and one was swollen with green and dark blue hues, a cut lip, and a nose that suffered a gnarly break.
This was bad.
“Alright…” Rhys started slowly before glancing at the paper once more, “Gala is it?” She nodded fervently, “Since you’re the only one with something to say… tell me what happened. And don’t lie to me.”
Gala took a shaky breath and I almost groaned at her theatrics, “I have been so stressed, you know, I work really hard, with children, not easy work. But I decided to go to Rita’s, grab a drink. I’m a grown woman, you know, I wanted to let off some steam. Then she,” she pointed a crooked finger in my direction as she had some how shimmed her bound hand in front of her. As I looked I wondered if it was always like that or if it was crooked because I broke it. “She followed me there. She’s obsessed with me, you know, always doing whatever she can to make my life hard. She’s my neighbor, you know. always pestering me and my pets and plants. She’s unrelenting.”
I made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a gasp, if anyone was unrelenting it was her. Rhys sent me a harsh glare and the shadowsinger stepped forward, a warning.
I slunk back into my chair and I’ve never seen Gala look so happy.
“Well she followed me to Rita’s, and I didn’t feel safe. I mean she’s always sneaking around doing things she’s not supposed to, you know. As a matter of fact she has- well had- a baby hippogriff. Poor thing didn’t survive, she probably killed it. But those creatures are illegal in this court, you know,” Rhys nodded and hummed along, I just threw my head back on the chair and stared at the ceiling. I’m going to rot in jail.
“Anyways so she was being unruly and loud and that dress, I swear this girl would do anything for some attention. Well I went over there to ask her to quiet down, I wasn’t the only one getting annoyed with her, you know. But when I touched her shoulder she turned around and started screaming, I put my hands up because I didn’t want her to hurt me or anything, you know. She just lost it, screaming, hitting, it was absolutely insane.
She picked up a chair and whacked me. She threw some glass at me and tackled me into the shards. She threw me through a wall! This woman is a danger to our city! A danger to the night court- hel- a danger to all of Prythian! This woman belongs in a cell with no way out!”
By the end of Gala’s tale I couldn’t help but stare, my mouth was practically on the floor. He explicitly told her not to lie and yet she had the gall to do it anyway. If I wasn’t facing persecution from the most powerful man alive I would’ve gave her another black eye.
Rhys hummed, processing the story, his violet eyes turned to me. They were swimming with contempt and I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me. I forced tears to the back of my eyes knowing tears would only egg Gala on. “Still having nothing to say?” His voice was deathly calm.
“Yes- no!” I cursed the nerves that had my brain scrambled, I needed to calm down before I made things worse for myself. I took a deep breath before looking up again, my eyes caught Azriel and for a brief second something flashed across his face. His eyes got a far off look that matched the high lords. The conversation that happened between them was brief and when the high lord zeroed in on me I felt like the decision was made before I could even speak. I was guilty.
“I did hurt her- bad. But, I didn’t start it. I swear I was at Rita’s first, I didn’t even know she was there. I was drinking with my friends and this guy was looking at me, and I was looking at him, and then well we were looking at each other so I didn’t even notice when she came up to me, not until she tapped me on the shoulder. She was yelling about my dress, calling me horrible names. At that point the dude had walked away so I was already pissed when I told her ‘I’m not doin this with you tonight’ and when I turned around she grabbed my hair. Yanked me down to her level and bop bop!” I jerked my shoulder to try and insinuate a punch, “she was doing my head in and so I grabbed her wrist and tried to remove her from my hair and when I turned she started scratching at my eyes-“
“Liar!” Gala stood up and screamed at me.
“No! It’s true and you fucking know it,” I hissed at her. She opened her mouth to yell again but words didn’t come out when Rhys let out a low growl, accompanied by an unmistakable look. She was receiving the same the same warning I got earlier.
Rhys nodded at me and I continued, “she scratched my eyes and I shoved her off of me, that was when she fell into the table. My powers are… interesting so the table broke when I pushed her into it. She got up pretty quick after that, she grabbed a chair and started running towards me with it so I grabbed it before it hit me and I hit her with it. Mind you I had a couple shots in me so I was ready, I turned the chair on her and broke it over her. I thought that would be enough but she grabbed a glass from the table and threw it at me. I know those glasses hit some other people but I think when she missed me it upset her because she was screamed and ran at me-
“You threw the glass at me! I was screaming running away!”
It was my turn to growl at Gala, she only sneered before shutting up again. “She ran at me and I dodged her and she ran into another table, that’s how the second table broke. So I grabbed a bottle off the bar and when she came at me again I broke it, on her face. I really thought she would stop after that but she grabbed a tray off the bar that was full of glasses and threw that at me, some of it hit me and so I threw another chair at her. She was under the chair and tackled me to the floor, scratching at my face again. I hit her and it knocked her off of me, she grabbed the broken bottle and she looked like she would kill me so… well I picked her up and threw her. That’s what put the whole in the wall, and really, that’s when I thought she was done for real.
So I turn around and go to grab my things because I’m trying to leave but she grabbes one of those big bottles from behind the bar and threw it.”
“Bitch!” Gala was up again this time moving for my face, “You stupid whore! You know-“ her voice was cut off when the ground beneath her feet began to shake, the whole office was shaking.
Rhysand braced his hands on the desk and glared at Gala, “We heard your story, now I want to hear hers. If you interrupted a fourth time… you will regret it.” Galas eyes were wide and she was smart enough to look afraid. She just nodded dumbly before sitting down, her silver eyes darting between the angry high lord and the unyielding spymaster. I waited for Rhys to nod again before continuing.
“It hit my head and at that point, it wasn’t about defending myself, I just wanted to to beat her ass. So yes I did run at her and slammed her into a table, kinda roughly so that’s how the third table and those chairs broke. Anyway so yea, I get to her and that’s when I just started hitting her, some guy tried to pull me off but I think I hit him. I really do feel bad about that, I’ll pay for whatever medical treatment he receives. Anyways that’s when the cops dragged me off of her, three of them I think, they detained me and when they went to try and detain her she freaked. Started fighting the officers, she threw another bottle at the short one and they dragged both of us out. She fought them the whole time, kicking and screaming at the cops.”
When I finished the high lord just stared face still blank, I felt like I needed to explain more, pleade my case further. But he spoke before I could, “So you guys are neighbors?”
“Yes!” Me and Gala both said at the same time, the dirty look we gave each other also happened at the same time.
“Yes,” I repeated, “She has hated me ever since I moved in. Actually I’m pretty sure she’s the one who killed my hippogriff.”
Gala snorted, “I wouldn’t go near that thing with a ten foot pole! They’re dangerous creatures and they’re illegal here you know!”
“Yes, I know,” I mocked her and the fire that was in her eyes in, Rita’s returned.
Gala jumped up to scream, “You insolent bitch! You think you’re above everyone but you ruin lives for fun!”
“How did I ruin your life?!” I was standing now too, “I never did anything to you!”
“Lies!” She screeched, “you know exactly what you did! Sneaking around my garden when I’m not home!”
I, once again, gaped at her. “Seriously? That’s what this is about!? Because I watered you plants when you were out of town?!”
“Trespassing!” If my hands were able to I would’ve covered my ears, her tone was dangerously high. “You trespassed on my property! Not to mention you tried to steal my cat, probably to feed it to you hippogriff!”
“What?!” The whole situation was utterly insane to me, “I was trying to be a good neighbor! And your cat followed me home. Probably to get away from you.”
Gala was seething, “You don’t talk about my cat! You stole him after you broke in! Broke into my garden and ruined my work!”
A dark chuckle fell from my lips, “I ruined your work by keeping your plants alive? You’re fucking crazy,” I turned to the high lord to try and find some support, “You hear this? She’s fucking crazy!”
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Gala screamed as she shook from rage.
“Come on bitch. I’ll beat your ass- again!” She ran at me only to hit an invisible wall and falling onto her behind with no way to brace herself.
“Enough!” Rhys voice was commanding now and the primal part of me coward at the sound. He was visibly angry. “This all started over a garden?” His voice held an incredulous tone and I couldn’t blame him, the story was ridiculous.
“It started before the garden, she’s had something against me since ever I moved in.” My voice was calm as I spoke, I didn’t want to anger him more.
Gala on the other hand didn’t seem to care much, she rose from the floor before continuing her rampage, “She moved into my quiet neighborhood, and my life has been hel ever since! Always singing loudly in the morning. Having friends over at night. Prancing around in skimpy dresses. Growing plants that I haven’t been able to grow just to rub it in my face! You should see it, she’s always flicking her perfect hair and smiling at everyone who looks at her. I can’t stand it! All the males coming to her doorstep trying to be with her, females flocking to gain a friendship with her. In all my years no one has ever tried to befriend me! I hate how everyone loves her! I hate it! And I hate her!”
I just blinked at Galas out burst and suddenly everything clicked. She was jealous of me. I stepped back and slumped into the chair at my knees. I just shook my head, all of this over some petty insecurities.
“Nell!” Rhys called and the officer that escorted us poked his head in, “Can you escort Y/n here back to her holding cell? I’d like to speak with Gala in private.” Nell just nodded, he moved towards me but I stood up and met him half way. All the anger was lost to me as I followed him all the way to the back of the station.
I sat down in my cell and my eyes were trained on the floor, the tears I was holding back finally found there way out. Nell locked the door and when I didn’t hear him walk away I looked up. “I heard everything, and off the record,” he leaned in, “I think she’s crazy too.”
I offered him a sad smile before looking back down. She was crazy but she was hurting, I knew her jealousy wasn’t my fault but I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I was trying to be helpful, living my life as happily as possible but for some twisted reason I was hurting her. Tears continued to fall until a small whisper of a shadow nuzzled my face and wiped them away.
The entire scene that played out in front of the brothers was no less than absurd. Almost comical, Rhys might have laughed if he wasn’t playing the role of the dutiful high lord. But the most interesting part was what Azriel had whispered in his mind. The girl, the main perpetrator, was his mate.
The second your voice hit his ears, Azriel almost fell to his knees. Your voice was melodic, soft and sweet, reminiscent of a summer breeze. The only thing he could do was petrify himself, to keep from falling in front of you, kissing your minor injuries, and tearing the throat out of the female who spoke ill of you.
He saw the tears threatening your eyes as you stood up to move out of the room. Every part of his body screamed at him to comfort you, hold you, inform you that you aren’t responsible for another fae’s bitterness.
When you left Rhys interrogated Gala further, listening to her wild tales of all the times you did something terrible. It truly sounded like you were just living your life and for some reason she hated that. She called you names, names that threatened Azriels resolution. He wanted to rip the spiteful bitch to shreds and finish what you started. He couldn’t lie, he felt some sick pride while listening to your side of the story. He knew if he was there things would’ve ended much worse for her.
Rhysand listened diligently, nodding and humming as Gala went on. Azriel slightly resented his brother for not striking her down where she sat. Rhys eventually cleared his throat, indicating that he was ready to speak. “So Gala, do you remember the first thing I said to you?” She nodded dutifully, “When I told you not to lie to me?” She nodded again, more unsure this time. Rhys just gave her a saccharine grin, “You wouldn’t mind if I checked, would you?”
“I- well-“ she shifted under the intensity of the stares, “It’s just my thoughts are my own, you know… I would like to keep it that way.” Her confidence wavered and suddenly she was unable to make eye contact.
Rhys chuckled lowly, “Look Gala, I just want to help. That- that wretch has made you suffer enough. Let me in; and I’ll take care of all of it.”
A deep growl came from Azriel his tight grip on his shadows loosened, causing them to swirl around him menacingly. Rhys knew the reaction was for him, he would react the same to hear his brother speak such words about Feyre. Galas eyes widened, taking the scene as a threat to her. She nodded lamely and with permission Rhys slipped into her mind.
Azriel tried to reign in his shadows, struggling against their will, it wasn’t until they relayed your voice he relaxed. They carried soft whispers to his ear and a deep breath pushed from his mouth at the sound.
I sat in the cell watching the lone shadow dance around for me, it seemed it was attempting to cheer me up. I chuckled lightly at its antics. An officer walked past the cell and it darted into my hair, hiding. This naughty shadow wasn’t meant to be here, I wonder if my power is what called it or if it came on its own free will. I decided to channel my power, hone it in on the male who the shadow belonged to. After a few seconds of concentration, I was connected.
“Hi,” I whispered and it circled my head, running across my face before landing on my knee.
Hello, hello, it whispered back. Beautiful, so so beautiful.
I laughed airily, “Thank you, so are you.” The shadow whirled around at the compliment, happy to hear praises. “Listen, I’m innocent. You have to believe me, I didn’t start this. I didn’t do anything to her.”
Innocent, innocent, it chanted and I let out a breath. The shadow believed me, I wondered if it was a reflection of its master or if it had its own will.
“Can you tell your master?” I questioned, leaning down, “Can you convince him?”
He’s here, it whispered back and I snapped my neck up to find none other than Azriel. He was leaning against the bars giving me a devilish smirk. He looked beautiful, his tan arms crossed showing off rippling muscles as his eyes glanced over me lazily. I pushed my thighs together, feeling hot under his gaze.
He wants you too, the naughty little shadow whispered, causing a blush to creep up my cheeks as I looked away.
He chuckled lowly as he turned to face me completely, his forearm met the bar above his head as he leaned in. The ravishing sight had me licking my lips, something his smirk told me he caught.
“Cool power,” he mused, his eyes shone with mischief as he held my gaze.
Busted, the shadow whispered and I rolled my eyes at it.
“Very cool, and very useful.” My voice was confident despite the shaking under my skin.
He huffed a laugh before leaning back and crossing his arm over his chest once more. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.
He does, the shadow outed him and it was my turn to laugh.
“I’m guessing that’s where you got the strength from, you channeled someone else’s power to throw that poor female into a wall.”
“Oh please,” it was my turn to lean back. I crossed my legs slowly and I bit my lip as his eyes tracked the movement. “That bitch had it coming.”
“Ooo,” he purred and the warmth between my legs spread to the rest of my body, “Naughty little girl, don’t you know? Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.” His head cocked to the side and I mimicked his movement, a smirk of my own forming. “Bad girls need punished.”
I slowly uncrossed my legs and pushed myself up, moving towards him. I was hot, burning under his gaze. Everything tingled as gave into some intrinsic need that command I be closer to him. I pushed my chest against the bars and my low cut dress showed off my cleavage. His eyes lowered to exactly where I knew they would. The shadow danced excitedly through my hair as if it too loved our proximity.
“And will you be personally handing out my punishment?” I made my voice sickly sweet, conveying an inappropriate innocence. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and batted them sweetly.
A low rumble left his chest and I hummed at the sound. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
Leaning in he whispered, “I don’t think anyone else would do it properly.” His eyes raked the entirety of my body and I thanked the mother for putting on my most flattering dress. The double entendre coupled with his hazy eyes had me ready to tear apart the steel and pounce.
“Promise?”
His scared had gripped the bar so tight his knuckles turned white. Looks like I’m not the only one ready to tear through steal.
Suddenly he leaned back and crossed his arms again, smirk still evident. A second later Rhysand and officer Nell were at the cell door, and Rhys was looking at me with a pleased look that only garnered confusion.
“Where’s Gala?” I looked around but she wasn’t in the station and I didn’t see her exit the office.
“Gala’s not going to be a problem for you anymore,” the simplicity in his words was slightly troubling. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to Gala, not anymore at least. I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow waiting for an answer. Rhys noted my concern, “Nothing bad. But I looked through some of her memories and- what she felt for you, it was completely irrational. She needs help so we’re going to get her some. Very far away.”
I let out a breath which was followed by an airy chuckle. I leaned my head against the bar and my chuckle turned into a full belly laugh. “Thank gods, she was fucking crazy.”
Rhys smiled as he waved his hand and my magical bonds fell. My hands wrapped around my own wrists soothingly and I stepped out of the now open door. “There’s still the issue of all the damage Rita’s suffered,” Rhys cocked his brow, interested in what I might say to that.
“Whatever it is, I’ll pay it,” I made hands that conveyed that of a promise.
“The damage reports come to around 4,090 gold marks,” officer Nell responded, his coy smile ever prevalent. I made an O shape with my mouth and rocked on my heels back and forth. That’s about 6 paychecks, without factoring the need to pay rent or buy food.
“I’ll pay it,” Azriel said simply. I whipped my head around to look at him, on the cusp of disagreeing. “Well you’ll pay it, it’ll come out of your check; when you come work for us.”
My shock was evident on my face and my mouth opened and closed lamely before I mustered up a “What?”
“Your powers,” he clicked his tongue as he stepped next to me, close enough for our arms to brush. “They could come in handy, far more handy for us than they do at some desk job.”
I shook my head as I processed everything. How did Azriel know where I worked? I suppose that’s dumb, he’s a spymaster and I told the police earlier. But was he really able to offer me a job, on Rhysands court?
I looked to my high lord for confirmation and he just smiled, “Way more handy than having you behind a desk,” he shoved his hands in his pocket with a shrug, “plus we already know you can fight.”
I laughed at that and my hand met my head as I mulled it over, I would be stupid not to accept. I knew my powers were unique and I always wanted to do more, I just never knew where to start. “Sure, I never liked my job anyway.” I tried to play it off cool but my soul was bouncing on the inside. The sneaky shadow seemed happy too as it whirled around my head and down through my fingers.
“Sounds good,” Rhys clapped and turned to walk with Nell, “Oh,” he looked over his shoulder, “Be sure to apologize to Rita.”
I brought my hand to my forehead offering a salute, “Yes sir!” He smiled before placing a gentle hand on Nell’s shoulder and walking away.
A giggle stole from my mouth as I clapped my hands over my heart and turned to Azriel, he had a pleased look on his face. I decided in that moment I would do anything to keep it there. “Well, that all worked out nicely.”
“Lucky you,” he purred, before tilting his head down and whispering, “Not lucky enough to escape your punishment though.”
The darkness returned to his eyes and my whole body lurched, begging to be punished right here, in front of the whole station.
I hummed as I wrapped my hands around his strong forearm, pushing onto my tiptoes and leaning into his ear. “Don’t hold out on me shadowsinger.” I giggled as I pulled back and bounced towards the door. On my way out I felt some more shadows, sneaking up and brushing against my thighs before coming up to whisper to me.
Bad, bad girl, they said. I just smirked as I pushed out of the door into daybreak. Who knew getting arrested could be so exciting.
A/N: I didn’t plan on writing this but I got the idea and since it’s my day off I went for it :p
If you guys like it I would be sooo down to do a part 2??? Maybe I’ll be brave enough to make a smutty 2 :D
Anywhooo my requests are always open so don’t be shy ;)
As always, if you made it this far… I LOVE YOU<3<3
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illyrianbitch · 3 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
✹ ✶ 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.
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thisblogisaboutabook · 4 months
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The cycle of life
Azriel x Reader
Fae cycles suck, thank the mother for your attentive mate who is there to provide you with all of the smut and fluff you desire.
warnings: smut, language, self-esteem and body image struggles, anxiety, slight breeding kink
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She didn’t know when the self-loathing crept in - although it was always the first sign. The week had been busy, she’d poured herself into her work. Being a bookkeeper for such a wealthy court was… tiring to say the least. It was fulfilling work, especially when it came to the Court of Dreams. Balancing ledgers and creating budgets for various charitable endeavors was a duty she was proud to take part in. The High Lord and Lady’s efforts in keeping their court thriving was admirable. Most would find the work mundane, and she supposed it could be, but accounting always felt like a puzzle to her - using her brain to solve problems and contribute to the advancement of the Night Court was rewarding.
She wasn’t perfect though, despite that desperate desire within herself to be. She’d push, and push, and push herself completely overlooking all the good she did and absolutely berating herself internally when the occasional mistake occurred.
Azriel was her number one supporter. She’d always imagined him to be better suited for the likes of a fellow warrior such as Mor or a Valkyrie like Gwyn. Perhaps even someone soft and lovely like Elain, a glowing beacon to come home to. Y/N had told Azriel as much when he began pursuing her.
“Why me?” She’d wonder to herself as she assessed her figure in the mirror - overlooking the enticing feminine curves that all but screamed “squeeze me, grip me, take me”, the way her plush lips bowed into a perfectly kissable pout, how her radiant skin that nearly glowed rendered her ethereal. She only saw imperfections. Not to mention that she wasn’t graceful or stealthy, she couldn’t cook or keep plants alive to save her damned life, and she had a tendency to get stuck inside her mind.
Truthfully this week was more than busy, it was hard. She’d pushed herself to meet deadlines that she’d gotten behind on due to an influx in workload. She’d made a few mistakes that nobody had issue with - except herself. Nuala and Cerridwen were taking well-deserved time off, leaving the essential household tasks on the back burner. Between working endless hours, Azriel being gone on a mission, and a flare up of the anxiety that she’d put so much effort into working through over the years - she was exhausted.
Physically her muscles ached, stomach cramped, and her head pounded as the all-too-familiar symptoms of her impending semi-annual cycle took root. Her mind and spirit were utterly fatigued from the busy week, the flare up of anxiety, and the overall stress of life. She was desperate for Azriel to return from his mission soon.
It was around 9PM when she coerced herself into wrapping up work on Friday night, she spent three hours afterward tending to the house and catching up on neglected tasks from the week, too tired to even bathe as she crawled into bed - sleep claiming her immediately.
She awoke the next day to a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hello beautiful.” Azriel whispered against her skin, pulling back to allow those intense hazel eyes a chance to examine her. Her eyelids fluttered and brows furrowed as she let out an exhausted groan, “baby…” a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she reached toward him in a needy manner that made his heart ache. He hated leaving her for missions though she always understood and supported him. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around her body, letting his warmth seep into her bones as she melted into his embrace.
Azriel noticed the flinch she made as the sun shone through the window into their room, quickly flaring his wings to block it from view until her eyes adjusted. “What’s wrong, love?” He whispered, though he already had an idea. The heat of his breath against her ear sent chills through her, prompting her to give a quick nip to his neck before kissing it.
Gods, she’d missed him.
“Nothing baby.” before he could call her on her lie she continued, “what time is it?”
“Well, you missed breakfast.” He smirked.
“Ugh… how did I sleep in so late?” She sat up, rubbing her tired eyes.
Azriel shrugged “Your body must have needed it.”
“Says you.” She scoffed. “You were off all week doing physically demanding work and busting your ass for this court… while I sat on mine balancing ledgers.”
“Y/N…” he spoke, his low voice barely more than a warning growl. “We’re not going to do that. You are allowed to feel tired, allowed to let your body rest. Your work is important.”
She sighed, knowing better than to press on. She knew to pick her battles and that this one was not one she would win.
“Fine.” Y/N shrugged, eyeing a paper bag on the bedside table. “What did you bring me? Please tell me it’s something with chocolate.”
Azriel’s lips curled up into a grin that she’d never tire of seeing, handing over the bag. “See for yourself, darling.”
———
Azriel knew from the moment he stepped into the quiet house that she’d need extra love and attention today. His loving, caring, selfless mate who typically rose early - he swore the sun rose on her accord and not the other way around - was still sound asleep in bed.
He immediately exited the house before she could sense his presence and stopped by her favorite bakery along the Sidra. Chocolate croissants were a necessity in times like these. She’d need a pain relieving tonic, epsom salts and soothing oils, and a bouquet of flowers couldn’t hurt either.
He went ahead and picked up ingredients for a few quick meals and a new book she’d mentioned recently as well.
He had to laugh at the irony. His mate often questioned her worthiness of him. HIM. She couldn’t see what he saw. A passionate, intelligent female who cared for her mate, her court, and family more than anything. Always putting her own needs last but the first to volunteer when help was needed. The cauldron truly found his equal - someone who gave and gave but it was never enough. Someone who couldn’t see her own worth, her pure heart, her devastating beauty - while the rest of the world marveled at it.
She’d been the catalyst in his own self-acceptance. He’d spent centuries believing he wasn’t enough, that he was unworthy of a mate, of his position, of the power he was born with - just to meet this intelligent, radiant being who could bring an entire room to a halt and assume they were only seeing flaws. Not the beauty that could make even kings fall to their knees if she’d only ask. When the bond snapped, he decided then and there that he would show her just how worthy she was. In the decade they’d been mated, she finally started to see her worth, how precious she was to him, to those she graced with her presence. But life is complicated and triggers are inevitable, especially when it came to the flare of hormones that accompanied an impending cycle.
—————
The chocolate croissants were a win if the drawn-out contented sigh Y/N let out upon finishing her third one was any indication. He’d shared details of his mission as she indulged in the pastries and she gave him a few details of her week - frowning as she went into detail about the “mistakes” she’d made.
They were common mistakes that anyone would make, truthfully, some weren’t even her fault, but he listened as she let it out. He’d learned over the years that sometimes she just needed to get it off her chest and not advice. Simply hearing each other out had become a key element in the foundation of their relationship - when thoughts became too much - they were always listening ears for each other.
Once she’d gotten it off her chest she changed the subject by asking, “What do you want to do today?”
Azriel had a lot to do - but his mate took priority this weekend. He gave her a wicked grin, “I want nothing more than to waste away in this bed with you all day.”
“But?” She replied.
“But nothing.” He flicked her nose. “I want to spend the day in bed with my mate - is there something wrong with that?”
Azriel could see the war in her mind. Debating whether she deserved to take a day off, or should tend to other tasks. Before she could object he leaned in, lips capturing hers in a deep, loving kiss. She immediately opened for him, his tongue lazily tangling with hers. “Fine” she murmured.
“That’s my girl.” He cooed before returning to claiming her mouth, the shell of her ears, her neck.
“Mmm” she purred into his kiss while he palmed at her breast through her silken cobalt night gown. Her swollen breasts immediately peaking beneath his touch.
“So responsive” his low voice growled into her neck, sending fire straight through her, igniting her core. “Is that beautiful pussy as ready for me as these are?” He asked, tweaking a nipple through her gown.
The responding moan told him more than enough as he hitched the hem of her nightgown up to her waist, exposing the dripping cunt practically begging for him underneath. His eyes rolled back at the intoxicating scent of arousal drifting up into his nose. “Holy shit, Y/N.” he groaned, clearly pleased with the sight.
He ran a finger through her slick core, adding a teasingly light amount of pressure to her clit but before he could insert a finger she moaned “No Az, I can’t wait. Please.”
“You don’t want my fingers?” He teased, slipping one inside of her. Mother, she was absolutely soaked.
“Az…Fuck. No. Please.” She pleaded. Reaching down to palm the hardened length beneath his sweatpants. “I need that inside of me. Now”
Typically he would reprimand her for being so demanding, robbing him of his playtime with her sweet, dripping sex. But the desperation in her voice left him desperate to oblige her.
“Since you asked nicely.” He replied, to which she frantically helped him out of his pants.
Before she could reconsider taking more fingers, he thrusted his length into her. Hard. Every thick, aching inch of him, stretching and filling her completely.
“Like that?” He asked as her moans filled the room.
“Yes. Yes, Az.”
“Fuck.” She cried out. “Just. Like. That.” Each word coming out individually timed to the thrusts of his cock.
There was no way he was going to last long at this pace, especially after being away for a week. “Not gonna last long like this. Fuck!” He ground out.
She grit her teeth as his thrusts became harder, more erratic. “Then fill me, Az. Need your cum.”
Slipping a hand between them, he pressed his thumb to her clit, moving it in that perfected motion he’d finessed over the years as he diligently studied her body, a scholar whose sole discipline laid in pleasuring his mate. Locking his eyes with her, he gently commanded “Cum with me baby.”
With that they both let go. Their releases filling the room like a song. A melody Azriel would never tire of, one he replayed in his mind somehow far too often, yet never enough during his time away.
Azriel stayed inside of her until their breaths settled, evening out into sync with eachother. He reveled in the warmth of her. His perfect mate - physically, emotionally, spiritually. He’d never take this for granted.
Finally he pulled out of her in one long sweep, she looked down to admire the still considerable length of him even when partially softened. Her stomach dropped to see blood mixed in with their combined releases.
“Az, oh, I’m so s-” She started but he cut her off.
“Baby. It’s just a little blood.”
She almost looked ashamed. “I know but- I’m embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?” He puzzled. “It’s completely natural. Do you really think blood bothers me? Come on now beautiful, we’ve had sex during your cycle before. Why shy away now?”
“I just didn’t expect the bleeding to have started already. It explains why I’ve felt so lethargic, I suppose.”
Azriel went to get a warm cloth from the adjoined washroom, returning to wipe her. Her cheeks flushed at the intimate action.
“Stop overthinking it. Besides, we’re mates.” He smiled, a soft look overtaking his eyes. “If you still want to have children with me someday, your cycle is kind of an essential step of the process.”
Y/N flushed at the comment. The thought of carrying his babies was something she’d dreamed about for years now. Thank the gods for her distant Illyrian ancestry and the genes that blessed her with curvy hips capable of birthing winged babes.
“You know, with my cycle returning… we could always start trying? If we stopped taking our tonics now - it should be out of our system in time for ovulation. Rhys has offered recently to let me bring on an assistant book keeper, which would be excellent timing.”
Azriel’s heart fluttered at the thought of it. His mate round and glowing as she carried their baby, a babe that would know so much more love than he ever had as a child. Something so pure and beautiful that could come from the love between he and his mate. They’d talked about it for years now, a dream of theirs. He had to quickly blink away the silver lining his eyes at the gift she was offering him, his selfless mate in all her infinite love. There was no way he could verbally reply in the moment without choking up so he sent waves of adoration, joy, and gratitude down the bond.
She sent every bit of love right back to him, propping up on her elbows to capture his lips in a promising kiss.
———-
After they came to a decision, Azriel carried Y/N to the bathing room where a hot bath full of the oils and epsom salts he’d picked up that morning were waiting. She nearly cried at the relief of the welcoming heat that greeted her.
Before she could object, Azriel quickly stepped out to change the sheets, promptly returning to slide into the bath tub behind her. He washed her hair, massaging her scalp to which she nearly purred like a cat. He carefully washed her entire body massaging her back, thighs, calves, shoulders, and breasts in the process. By the time he was done tending to her, she’d nearly fallen asleep.
Ever the caretaker, she tried to wash him in return but he insisted that this was about her - passing her a rolled up towel to place behind her neck while she relaxed, letting the oils from the bath soak into her skin as he lathered himself. He got out first, toweling himself off before lifting her out of the tub and drying her off with a heated towel.
Though she insisted she could do it herself, Azriel wasn’t having it. This was his day to care for his mate so he helped her into cloth lined linens and selfishly left her topless, slipping her underneath the fresh blankets.
He assured her he’d be right back slipping out to the kitchen to heat up her favorite gnocchi soup and fetch a tray he’d prepared with her pain relieving tonic, bouquet of flowers, and more chocolate.
It didn’t take much to bring his mate joy - the genuine gratitude she’d send down the bond at even the smallest gestures was never lost on him. Perhaps it was self-serving but he couldn’t resist surprising her, coveting each warm smile she’d give him as if he’d never feel warmth again.
He prayed their future babes had her smile, her eyes, any of her features, truly. But most of all, her heart - maybe then, beating within the most precious gift the mother could offer them, she’d finally see just how beautiful she really was.
————
He had to beg and plead like a mad male but finally she agreed to spend the entire weekend in bed with him. Who knew that he, the one who was typically the workaholic, would be the one to grovel at his mates feet begging her to take a break.
Fortunately, she was not immune to his charms and obliged him. At one point, she snuck out of bed in an attempt to accomplish a few tasks around the house before her cramps humbled her. Azriel was promptly startled awake from the nap he’d drifted off to as she loudly exclaimed from down the hall, “Fuck it. Back to bed.”
They spent the rest of the weekend making love, whispering of their dreams for the future, indulging in sweets, and reveling in each others touch with no shortage of laughter and kissing in between.
——————————
A/n: So I’ve totally been under the weather this weekend with no motivation to write but as I laid in bed with my own partner tending to me with whatever I needed, I couldn’t resist writing this. I intended it to be a Drabble but the words just kept flowing. I stan fluffy Az. Anyway, thanks for reading!
For those of you waiting on new parts to my current fics - I promise they’re coming along and will be out soon! xo ♥️
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milswrites · 8 days
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The Trials of Aphrodite Part Four
~ Azriel X Fem!Reader
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Series Masterlist
Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.
Chapter summary: A chat with Rhysand and an unexpected encounter.
Warnings: Angst (not going to give it a level because you guys will come for me and say I'm wrong).
You should have known nothing would get past Rhysand.
Your High Lord had been alive for long enough to know when someone was sneaking around behind his back, even if it was the elusive shadowsinger.
So despite the fact the sudden appearance of the Lord of Night at your door had your palms sweating and heart beating in distress, his arrival wasn't entirely unexpected.
With a long exhale and a quick tap to your mental shields in order to make sure they're in place, you open the door, a synthetic smile working its way onto your face as you greeted your waiting friend.
"Rhys, how wonderful to see you!" you simpered, praying the male wouldn't be able to hear the irregular pounding of your fluctuating heartbeat. Rhysand provided you with his own sickly sweet smile in return, violet eyes twinkling knowingly as he began to speak, "Azriel -"
You didn't allow him the time to finish his sentence, interrupting the Lord in an attempt to draw the conversation away from your rule breaking best friend, "Az isn't here unfortunately, maybe you should try -"
It was Rhysand's turn to cut you off, the male casually raising an inquisitive brow as he did so, smirk only growing wider at your flustered manner, "The market?. . . With Elain?" you blanched at his words, "hmm quite unusual how he seems to be able to talk to her now, isn't it? You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?"
"Awh Rhys I'm hurt," you pout mockingly, holding a hand to your heart as you step aside to allow the male to enter, "Here I thought you came to see me, and yet all you want to talk about is Azriel's lousy ability to talk to females."
Rhys scoffed at your reply as you busied yourself with making tea, avoiding his pressing stare for as long as you could until your reluctant eyes finally met his own. Sighing at his persistent glare, you held your hands up in defeat, "Fine, I helped him! He practically forced my hand, what was I supposed to do?"
"He made you?" Rhysand asked unimpressed, your eyes already rolling at the lecture which was no doubt about to ensue. Yet his next words were enough for you to spit out the tea you had just consumed, "Or your feelings did?"
"This has nothing to do with that" you snapped in defense, body recoiling at Rhysand's sympathetic stare, "Az needed me Rhys, of course I had to help him."
Your friend stretched his arm across the counter, resting a heavy hand onto your own to stop the slight tremble which his words had triggered. "At the expense of your heart?" Rhysand questions, his face contorted in empathetic pain, "You don't have to do this Flower. You are your own person, there's no shame in saying no to him."
Your eyes began to water as you stared at Rhys's comforting hand, head shaking hopelessly in denial. "What kind of friend would I be?" you miserably ask, "If I can't overlook my childish feelings in order to make him happy."
"It's not your job to make him happy," Rhysand reasons, gently squeezing your hand in order to pull your saddened gaze to his own, "you being there is enough to do that."
"But I am not enough" you shout, Rhysand's arm retracting in surprise at your sudden burst of anger, "I will never be enough for him. I have offered him everything; my friendship, my happiness, my heart. And what do I have to show for it after five hundred years other than his unreciprocated feelings?"
Rhysand came to stand before you, pulling you into a crushing embrace, lips coming to your ear to whisper words of consolation as you cried into his chest. "It's ok" he promised, cupping your head to press you tighter still into his hold, "You're ok. Feelings pass, it just takes time."
"It's not just feelings Rhys" you wept into his shirt, thanking the cauldron that your tears didn't show on the dark material, "I love him."
"So why?" Rhysand asked, moving his hands to your face in order to wipe your tears and draw your eyes to his own begging ones, "Why are you doing this? Why help him?"
"Because I'm tired of loving" you confessed, hiccupping as you spoke, "I want to move on. And if moving on means I have to help him fall in love with somebody else . . ."
Your friend sighed in defeat, a wave of disgruntled understanding beginning to pool in his violet eyes. "You are so unbelievably selfless" Rhys said with a sad smile as he came to place a soft kiss against your brow.
"Are you mad at me? . . . For helping Azriel go against your orders?" you sniffled, voice wavering as you spoke. Salty tears still making their way down your cheeks. "I could never be mad at you Flower" Rhysand consoled, "I'm only disappointed that Azriel would bring you into this mess in the first place. You deserve so much more."
So you continued to cry.
And whilst you were wrapped within the loving arms of the Lord of Night, you could have sworn you had never felt more alone.
Leaving your house was a trial in itself nowadays. Having to force yourself to vacate the sanctuary of your home in order to stir some feelings inside of you that weren't just hopeless despair.
Yet you were unable to shake your loneliness as you walked through the streets of Velaris without the shadowsinger by your side. Azriel having regretfully told you that he had training to make up for with Cassian after having spent the morning alongside Elain.
So, aimlessly wandering around in a melancholic state, you opted to grab yourself a treat in the hope of lightening your mood. For that there was only one place to go, the charming little bakery which you and Azriel had discovered together many years ago.
It was a difficult decision, choosing what pastry to buy, your hungry eyes scouring over the selection until you saw something you liked. The smiling shopkeeper making polite conversation as you pondered your options. Her words bringing your thoughts back to the male you so longed to forget, "now where's that handsome friend of yours today?"
Your heart twinged at the mention of his name, smile dropping slightly as you focused your attention back onto the baked goods before you, "Oh you know, the life of the shadowsinger is a busy one."
The keeper nodded in understanding, wide grin still plastered across her lips as she spoke, "would you like to grab something for him too? On the house for such loyal customers."
You wanted to say no, to prove that Rhysand's words were true and show yourself that your life didn't revolve around Azriel. Yet the flash of his grateful smile appeared in your mind, the warm buttery feeling of the male hugging you in thanks already growing in your chest.
Yet before you even had the chance to answer the waiting lady, a hurried figure bumped into your side, spilling the contents of their steaming cup onto your shirt.
"Oh shit, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" flustered apologies flowed from the male's mouth, his hands flying to rub the newly formed coffee stain with a napkin.
You found yourself incapable of answering.
Unsure of whether it was the shock that had stunned you into silence, or the dark ruffled hair and deep hazel eyes of the mysterious stranger. Unfussed by your lack of response, the male continued to ramble, "gods I'm so stupid, I should have watched where I was going. I'll buy you a new top I promise."
Stirring to your senses, you grabbed the male's hands to stop his hastily-done cleaning, allowing a reassuring smile to grace your lips as you promised him it was alright, "Don't worry, I was wondering what this top would look like with coffee all over it."
He barked out a laugh, lifting a hand to muss his short black hair, "I suppose I can only be grateful for running into someone as wonderfully forgiving as you."
It were as if he had you under a spell, his sharp jaw and strong features working to draw you in. "If you wanted my attention you could have just asked me for it" your jaw snapped together as soon as the words slipped out, eyes going wide at your unabashed confidence.
Your words seeming to please the male, a smirk crossing his face as he leaned into reply, "Can you blame me? Getting the chance to run into the most beautiful woman in all of Prythian doesn't come too often."
Unable to stop the blush which flushed across your heated cheeks, your eyes looked to anywhere but his own hazel ones in an attempt to escape the intensity of his gaze.
"I'll tell you what," the handsome stranger started, gesturing his head towards the counter, "I think I owe you a drink after that accident, if you want to join me that is."
All thoughts of getting something for Azriel forgotten, a smirk of your own worked its way onto your face as you reply, "hmm, I'm not sure. I only drink coffee with males I know the name of."
"Deimos" he eagerly replied, the glint of an unknown emotion shimmering within his hazel eyes, "My name is Deimos."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: I would apologise for the lack of Azriel in this part but honestly I think you guys would thank me for it at this point!
Big thank you to @sarawritestories who waved her magic wand and made me love my writing again.
Taglist Part 1:
@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @sarawritestories @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @eve175 @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend
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