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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year

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Overwritten – Part 3

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel.

Warnings: Violence

Words: 1,384

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Part 3 ∇

Ripped from the white abyss, you gasped awake in an unfamiliar place. Had Azriel finally claimed you? Were you dead?

Clutching at your clothes – you felt the rough fabric of the tunic you had always worn. Surely you wouldn't still wear a thing like this in the afterlife? Heart pounding from the poison-fuelled hallucination, you ran a shaky hand through your hair, doing your best to calm your breathing.

“Y/N?” someone said from beside you. You froze at the sound, your stomach sinking. You knew that voice.

With wide eyes you forced yourself to look, your blood turning cold at the sight of him. There, in the flesh, was Azriel.

His demonic wings reached high above his head, blue siphons glaring just as they did in your nightmares. He was broad, strong, with weapons strapped to his frame – a threat in every way. There was no sign of a forked tongue, hellish red eyes or the sinister smile, but the shadows were here – speaking to him, likely advising on the thousands of different ways to kill you without him having to lift a finger.

You saw the male’s mouth move, but panic was a roar in your ears, making it impossible to hear. A slow hand reached across the bed you lay in, and you watched it with a deadly glare. He was surely going to kill you. Still, you were unable to move, frozen in utter and pathetic fear.

Do it quick, you found yourself begging.

You heard him then. “Y/N? It’s me, Azriel.”

Pain sliced through your mind as a white light flashed before your eyes. That cold, unfeeling voice that had coached you for so long ringing through your ears.

Azriel is an unmatched evil. He will kill you. The only hope you stand is to kill him first.

And as venom took over, you found yourself reverting to the animalistic instinct that protected you for so long. He would not get the chance to kill you – today was his day to die.

Spearing Azriel to the ground, you felt poison course through your veins, fuelling you with venomous strength as you pinned him down. Pushing your thumbs into the crevice of his throat, you gritted your teeth, cutting off his air supply.

Azriel’s eyes were wide with shock as he tried to pry your hands off.

“Y/N!” he gasped, his voice straining through your grip. “Stop.”

He was strong – but you had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Your freedom, control of your own mind, your life. He would not take that away.

You pushed your thumbs further, trying to close the gap in his throat and forcing his head into the ground. Blood was building in the Shadowsinger’s face, his tan skin quickly changing to a deep red. Shadows began to spasm around him.

“I d-don’t want to hurt you,” he gasped, his hands slackening against your wrists. Good, you thought – not long now.

The male threw you a final pleading look, one that you were sure was meant to disarm you. You would not let go until he had taken his last breath.

Scarred hands on your wrists tightened then, forcing your fingers to unbind from his neck. Your eyes widened, and it was then that you realised he had not been using all his strength until now. Azriel pulled your arms of him, spreading them wide while you still straddled his body to the floor. Now in an incredibly vulnerable position, you new he would try and pin you under him if he got the chance.

Swinging your legs off, you pulled your wrists flush against yourself, freeing from his grasp. You practically kicked him to scramble to your own two feet, Azriel quickly standing too, his palms open as you now faced each other, neither of you daring to move.

“Y/N,” he panted as he regained his breath, the blood now moving from his face. Fuck – you had missed your chance.

Azriel was capable of dark, demonic things, an evil magic brewed within him – it was the only truth you knew. So you also knew, you had a better chance of running than fighting. Scanning the tent for an exit, you saw the only path in or out was blocked by the tall male, his wings flared like a net that would surely trap you if you were stupid enough to try.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice soft. Your ground your jaw at the blatant lie, and launched for him again.

This time, he knew it was coming, and caught your arms before you could wrap them around his neck. “Y/N, please, stop fighting!”

You couldn't help the feral snarl that escaped you, your teeth bared as you kicked his stomach, sending him stumbling back. You aimed for his shoulders, pushing him into the wooden unit and knocking you both to the ground, medical supplies sprawling, glass bottles breaking around you.

You were on him again, pinning him so easily – almost as if he let you. Azriel kept his palms raised as your hands found his neck again.

“Fight me if you have to, Y/N. I will never hurt you back.”

Your vicious glare softened as you took in his words, your lips pressing to a thin line. Azriel was stronger, he had proven that. Yet here he was, lying prone beneath you, completely at your mercy. Was he residing to his fate? Would he let you kill him?

You shook your head – mind games was all this was. “Liar,” you snarled, tightening your chokehold around his neck.

And he let you. He let you press your thumbs into the crevice of his throat, let you force his head to the ground again and again, blind rage and the desperate need to kill consuming you.

I love you.

You blinked, your grip slackening ever so slightly. That voice – it was far away, but somehow from within.

I love you, Y/N.

Azriel hadn't spoken, but you had heard his voice clear as day – within your heart or stomach you didn't know. And it terrified you.

You had to finish the job, to end him now before that voice could infiltrate your mind further. Freedom beckoned at you, light and promising, and so so close. With bloodthirsty rage, you pressed the final breath out of the Shadowsinger.

That was, until you felt a blow so forceful it could be heard. Before you could turn and snarl, shadows and night had consumed your vision, and purple eyes were the last thing you saw before everything went black.

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“That did not go well.” Rhys straightened, leaving your unconscious body on the floor as he want to help his brother stand. Azriel coughed, regaining his breath yet again as bruises were quickly forming around his neck. Rhys held out a hand, propping the Shadowsinger up as his shadows hung limp, as if they too needed to regain their strength.

“She strangled the hell out of you,” he commented.

Azriel didn't answer, his stance broken as he looked at you slumped on the ground. You looked like yourself, his beautiful, peaceful, caring mate. Whoever attacked him just now, that was not her.

“You were going to let her kill you brother?” Rhys asked, his tone confused with a hint of dismay. Rhys knew the lengths he would go to protect Feyre, but allowing one mate to kill the other was something he couldn’t comprehend.

Azriel limped over, bending down and scooping your body to his chest. His eyes darting across your slack face – such a juxtaposition from the feral, snarling female that was going to kill him just moments ago.

“She needed to know I would never hurt her,” he said softly, his voice hoarse.

Rhys nodded gravely, stepping out of the way as the Shadowsinger lay you back on the bed, pulling the covers over you and brushing a tangled strand of hair from your face.

“It seems we have a lot of work to do.” Rhys noted, his tone grim.

Azriel finally looked at his brother. “What if I never get her back?” He was broken, the hope he held earlier lost in the violent sprawl with his mate. Even his shadows kept close, not daring near you.

Rhys clasped his hands on Azriel’s shoulders, levelling a look at him. “We will brother. Feyre has a plan.”

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Part 4 >>>

AN: I wish I could say writing a tonne of violence isn’t fun... but I’d be lying. I hope you liked this chapter, I would love any feedback on the story so far! Comment to join the tag list too. MWA 💕

Tags: @hyacinthoideshispanica @kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies @marina468 @itscaitymoore @timecharm @icey--stars @lucyysthings @valeridarkness @alw-aysjanuary @brekkershadowsinger @ladygloucester @ciannemar83 @wiitchkiller @xtreme-shipper @thorslonglocks @im-bili @kexrtiz @shadowcrowsworld @lillithathecat @marina468 @aroseinvelaris @cynicalpotato95 @goldentournesol @maddithefangirl @holywolfsstuff @banasheefan56

#azriel #azriel x reader #Azriel series #acotar series #rhysand #azriel angst #azriel mate #azriel brainwashed #acotar brainwashed #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel x brainwashed reader #azriel amnesia #acotar amnesia #sarah j maas #azriel acotar #azriel pov #azriel x kidnapped reader

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kindasleepycryptid · 4 months

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Public Displays of Affection - Azriel x Reader

I posted this to the wrong account! You can find the re-upload on my writing blog right here: @kindasleepywriter

Chapter summary: This is a Christmas themed oneshot of a series I'm working on (Bird of Prey masterlist), but it can be read as a standalone! It's set a few years after the end of the series, but it doesn't spoil the main story.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of fluff

Word count: 850.

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel POV #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar winter solstice #bird of prey

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harperbrynne · 1 year

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SJM Romance Week: Free Day

Gwyn: Are your shadows flirting with me?

Azriel: *stumbles and Gwyn almost nicks him with her blade* What? Why would you think that?

Gwyn: My hair keeps getting pushed back before any strands can fly in my face. *whirls around to avoid Az’s blade and her untucked hair moves out of her line of sight as if by a phantom breeze* And yesterday, when we ended training, parts of my hair were braided that I had not braided before coming out here.

Azriel: I suppose it’s possible. That they’re flirting with your hair. I don’t control their every move.

Gwyn: Well, they flirt much better than you. *she winks before leaving a stunned Azriel behind*

@sjmromanceweek

#sjmromanceweek2023 #gwynriel #gwynriel headcanon #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x az #az x gwyn #gwyneth x azriel #azriel x gwyneth #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #azriel acosf #gwyn acosf #azriel pov

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vidalinav · 1 year

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She smiles lightly, a bit politely, and in a way that doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s a new look and Azriel has begun to wonder if Nesta’s made it entirely for these occasions. When Cassian leaves, Nesta doesn’t smile shyly or sweetly. She smiles in a perfunctory and performative manner, better suited for future high lords hoping to another dance. Not their little group currently sitting in a cramped booth if three had not turned to five.

If he’s honest, Azriel prefers the frank, almost startling stare, but Nesta offers him no amusement. Instead, her lips raise lightly as if not a raise at all, and Nesta fiddles with the ring on her left hand, the diamond glistening as only the clearest and largest diamonds do.

It seems like a Nesta thing, he thinks, that Nesta wears no other adornment, because she’s been waiting for the grandest one of all. A human concept, Azriel’s come to understand. Because Cassian may not have ever wanted the title of a lord, but his brother has mated a high-court lady through and through.

It’s not a nervous movement either, but a reminder. A trick of the eye. A game. And Azriel might have been thoroughly ready to play if he had not felt as if he’d been left out of this particular one.

Nesta fiddles with that ring, but Mor never quite looks at her to notice, so he can’t say she accepts the roll and dice. Rhys, however, tracks the movement. His gaze settles and the music of Sevenda’s rages, and Nesta strings them along, a song she’s only just begun to let them listen to.

She’s mated, Nesta reminds them, and that means that Cassian is somewhere in this restaurant being happy. Giddy, even. Non-stop smiles plaster his face. It’s only been a week and he’s yet to stop his incessant song. My mate. My mate. My mate.

Has he ever been more proud?

#The In-laws #nessian #nesta archeron #snip snip hoorah #azriel pov #I'm not sure what is happening in this part but... maybe the start of this shindig

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pinkrasberryfish · 7 months

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Chapter 16 - "I Won't Survive" - now available for my ongoing fic, A Court of Blood & Mercy! 🖤🗡🩸

#i'm doing every week right now and so proud #wednesday fan fic #elriel #elriel fic #elriel fan fic #elriel fanfic #elriel fics #elriel fanfiction #elriel fan fiction #elain x azriel #pro elain archeron #azriel and elain #azriel POV

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cest-la-vieve · 1 year

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Meeting Eve (The Ninth Time)

Summary: Azriel shows Evelyn around his home while facing the realization she's his real home. He finally gives into his urges, claiming her just as fully as she longs to claim him.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: cussing, az being insecure, hints to sex

Notes: hehe love this lil illyrian who doesn't know how choose between letting his head, heart, or you-know-what lead his interactions with our sweet evelyn. please enjoy!

Next: The Tenth Time

ACOPAP Masterlist

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Showing Evelyn around the city was nothing short of life-changing.

For her, I mean.

Definitely not for me.

My heart wasn’t warmed as I led her down the streets that my brothers and I would sacrifice anything to protect. I didn’t memorize the way her eyes widened around each bend, as her face lost all hints of stress as she nearly skipped like a child to each shop. My shadows didn’t take note of every item she fawned over so they could remind me when it came time for the solstice or her birthday.

I know if my brothers were here, they’d be teasing me relentlessly about the way I followed her around the city like a stray pet, eating up the scraps of attention she gave me like I was starving. She truly was a queen amongst men. Even if logically I knew we didn’t have queens in Prythian, seeing the way she interacted with various faeries, asking about their lives, making promises to reconnect with them later… It was making me rethink why we didn’t. She’d be perfect for it.

I would have been content to trail her for days, weeks, if she asked. But as the sun kissed the horizon and then eventually dipped below it, I knew there was one place I had to take her.

She started to turn a corner, already beginning to wave to a shop owner, but I reached out and grabbed her hand before I could second-guess myself. She whirled around, eyes wide, like she was expecting something to be wrong. When she realized it was just me, stopping her from exploring further, her entire face scrunched in confusion and suspicion.

I noticed you could tell a lot from the way her nose scrunched. It was the one tell she had difficulty hiding. Even if the rest of her face was impassive, her nose would twitch or screw up in anger, disgust, sadness, you name it.

I held her hand a little more firmly as I steeled myself. I offered her a small smile in apology for cutting our excursion short but nonetheless, I said, “Come with me.” It was a question, nearly begging her to accept.

I could see the gears turning in her head as she debated her response, the way her eyes darted back to the street that was now lit with Faelight and alive with music. She didn’t let go of my hand, though, and that filled my chest with hope.

Eventually, she used the hand that wasn’t encased in mine to delicately tap on her chin. She met my eyes, a serious glint shining in hers as she asked, “You’re not taking me somewhere to kill me, are you?”

A scoff of amusement left me before I could stop it. I knew as well as she did that I wouldn’t need to ask permission to take her somewhere and kill her. I fought back a shudder at the thought of even considering hurting her even as my shadows whispered how pretty she’d look with a knife gently pressed against her skin.

She stuck her tongue out at me and, to my continued shock, I did it back. It was getting harder and harder to keep up the 500 years of walls I had built whenever I was around her. She awoke some small part of me that had long since been hidden in the dark. I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to stop or not.

Her mouth parted at my childish response and before she could protest, I turned and used our still-connected hands to gently pull her along behind me. This was one wall I could take down, for her.

I led her along, traveling the well-worn dirt path to the little wooden bridge that had been here for as long as I could remember. It was the one place I had managed to keep hidden from Rhys and Cas, knowing that, with them involved, the wood would be left in splinters at the bottom of the Sidra. Plus, the residents of Velaris rarely traveled this way, as the only thing on the other side was a wide expanse of farmland.

It took all of my self-control to drop Evelyn’s hand, feeling like it belonged there always, but I gestured for her to walk onto the small bridge. She nodded a bit before walking out, stopping in the middle and looking out at the water.

I took long, lazy strides to walk up next to her, nearly folding my body in half to brace my forearms against the familiar rail. I hoped she didn’t hear the deep exhale of relief as I settled into my usual position, letting the calming light of the moon wash away some of the lingering tension.

When I didn’t sense Evelyn moving to join me, I tried to explain, “This is one of my favorite spots in all of Velaris. I come here when I need quieter than the House of Wind or Townhouse can offer.”

I kept my gaze trained on the horizon, tracking the way the moonlight danced along the water, sending my shadows out to play with it. I saw her nod out of the corner of my vision and her ethereal voice said, “I had many places like that, though it changed depending on where we lived. Sometimes I’d walk out into the forest until I couldn’t take another step and just sit under a tree to get away for a bit.”

For all the time I had spent agonizing over our differences… The hours wondering how a ray of sunshine and joy and love could be fated to a miserable bastard like me… Maybe we weren’t so different after all.

She didn’t speak for a long while and I wasn’t sure what else to say. My mind raced and I fought to keep my pulse steady, forcing myself to confess, “I haven’t… I haven’t brought anyone here.”

She had joined me against the railing, perching so carefully it seemed like a breeze could knock her over. I was more than prepared to catch her if that was the case. She cleared her throat, speaking so softly, it was barely more than a whisper as she responded, “Thank you, then. For showing it to me.”

I could only nod as the weight of what I’d done when I decided to bring her here settled on me. I shifted my focus back to the moon, letting its soothing song work on calming down all the darkness inside of me.

We stood for a while, side by side, breathing in tandem, and if I let myself, I could practically feel the tether between our souls humming in approval at our proximity. I wondered if she could feel it, the tie between us, pulling us closer and closer…

“Azriel.”

Her voice was its own kind of song, lilting and breathy. I dropped an arm to my side, turning to look at her, and my breath caught in my throat.

Her green eyes were hooded in peace and languidly dancing in the moonlight. Her hair fell in slight waves down past her shoulders, framing her collarbones in a way that had me aching to run my tongue over them. I already knew her skin would taste just like the moonlight that reflected off of it, light and dark at the same time, with a magical quality you’ve only read about in books. I ran my gaze over every inch of her, noting each inch of exposed skin, and analyzing each slight shift in her posture.

It was only when I began to smell her arousal that I locked eyes with her - only to see that while I had been practically eyefucking her, she had been doing the same. I clenched my hand into a fist at my side, willing myself to calm down, but smirked at the idea that even unaware of the mating bond, she wanted me.

“Yes, Evelyn?” I purred.

Her question - demand - caught me off-guard. “Teach me to fly, Azriel.”

It was as if 5 centuries of hatred hit me at once. I often tried not to think about the Illyrian wings and power she was cursed with. There were few things I hated more than the Illyrians and their misogynistic, unnecessarily cruel, and outdated ways. There was a reason that Cassian was appointed General and not me. I could hardly stand to be in a room with any of them, let alone Devlon.

I wanted to scream this at her, tell her that this wasn’t a group she wanted to be like. But one look at her pleading face told me that I would cave.

Afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would say something to incriminate myself, I nodded.

Thankfully, I was saved from the awkward repercussions of my acceptance by Rhys’s gentle prodding on my mental shields. I easily lowered them enough to let him in, as he purred in post-sex satisfaction, We’re done.

Wear your poor mate out, brother?

As only I can, Azriel.

I mentally snorted at him, sure he could feel just how annoying I found his haughty attitude, and turned to Evelyn, telling her, “Rhys and Feyre are ready to host us back at the townhouse.” Best to leave out the unseemly things I’m sure our High Lord got up to with her sister.

She shrugged before taking off. I saw the slight hesitation in her steps, her false confidence in the directions causing me to chuckle to myself. Her stubbornness would get her into trouble one day.

I easily strode in front of her as she paused at an intersection, trusting her to follow as I led the way through the streets and to the townhouse.

I sat at the table, my shadows whispering to me about the movements of the Autumn Court male. I kept one eye on him and the other on Evelyn as she easily, naturally, sat in the seat next to me.

She turned a confident grin to Cassian, proudly announcing, “Guess what, old-timer?”

“Yes, kid?” Cassian turned to her, eyes alight with mischief.

Evelyn grinned conspiratorially, leaning forward to whisper-shout, “Azriel’s gonna teach me to fly.”

I nearly choked, knowing my brother would have nothing short of a million questions about this arrangement but shrugged noncommittally as he raised a brow at me. Evelyn and Cassian’s relationship brought me a lot of solace, knowing she had him keeping an eye on her but situations like this were sure to bring me a lot of grief, too.

Cassian’s look promised this was something we’d discuss later and I mentally groaned at just the idea of that conversation. He clasped a hand to his chest in mock hurt, asking Evelyn, “And you didn’t even think to ask me?”

In a steady voice, she instantly quipped, “You couldn’t handle me, General.”

And fuck if that didn’t turn me on.

Rhysand and Feyre walked in before their teasing conversation could go further. Cassian smirked at Rhys and I caught Evelyn winking at her sister. I swiftly kicked Cass in the shin, both for the insinuation about the flying lessons and for embarrassing Feyre, who gave me a grateful smile.

Evelyn looked at me, clearly wondering why I hadn’t admonished her.

I nearly rolled my eyes at her but settled for a look that told her she could get into her own trouble, I’d only help get her out.

Rhysand was focused wholly on Lucien, Cassian and I rising instinctively to threaten the Spring Court emissary as Rhysand lazily drawled, “I assume Cassian or Azriel has explained that if you threaten anyone in this house, this territory, we’ll show you ways to die you’ve never even imagined.”

I sent out shadows to test the male, making sure they noted his intentions, as he and Rhys delved into a conversation. I felt Evelyn rise and slowly make her way between Cass and me. I nearly laughed at the picture we likely painted - the two most feared Illyrians in Prythian and the recently-Fae female from the mortal realm who was nearly half our size. Yet somehow I knew, when it came to Feyre, she was the most dangerous of the three of us.

As Rhysand and Lucien discussed our High Lady, I found my eyes drawn to Evelyn, thinking that in a different life, our love story could have been just as beautiful as Feyre and Rhysand’s. In a life where I wasn’t so scarred, so broken. In a life where being involved with me wouldn’t bring death to her doorstep.

“I was in love with Feyre long before she was ever in love with me,” Rhysand told Lucien, and Evelyn’s eyes snapped to me.

She looked away quickly but that split-second made me wonder if she was thinking the same.

Lucien retorted, “How fortunate that you got what you wanted in the end.”

Evelyn was hissing like a wildcat and throwing herself forward a second later. I grabbed one of her arms while Cassian held the other while waiting for Rhysand’s order.

His eyes flicked to us, a clear command to keep her restrained and stand down, even as he said, “I was willing to lose my mate to another male. I was willing to let them marry, if it brought her joy. But what I was not willing to do was let her suffer. To let her fade away into a shadow. And the moment that piece of shit blew apart his study, the moment he locked her in that house…”

I nearly joined Evelyn in launching myself at Vanserra, barely restrained rage causing me to shake and tense. Yet… Evelyn sagged in my arms, the fight leaving her body as quickly as it came. Mine went with it, instantly converting to worry as the female who always had fight in her seemed so… lost.

My shadows, of their own accord, brushed against her, sensing her discomfort. Despite my trying to reel them in, they continue to swirl around her until she jumped in recognition, casting a sweet smile to the floor where they danced.

“I’m going to see my sisters up at the House. Would you like to come?” Feyre invited the red-haired male. Rhys didn’t seem thrilled as he sent me a side-long glance, letting me know just how much reconnaissance I’d have to do on Lucien.

Evelyn walked with the others to the roof, standing off to the side as everyone sorted traveling. I sent a mental note to Rhys that I’d be taking Evelyn, his smirk practically feline down our bargain bond. I sent him an obscene gesture in return.

I didn’t say a word as I walked over to Evelyn’s side, just offering a hand and asking her the silent question. She nodded and I swept her into my arms, pressing her tight against me as we flew to the House of Wind.

The second my feet touched down on the balcony, Evelyn was pushing off of me, whispering, “I’m going upstairs.”

I stared after her for a moment. Something was clearly wrong. But with Rhysand’s violet eyes looking over at me, I knew he wanted me to find more information to aid in this upcoming war.

Walking over to him and Feyre, I assured Rhys I’d address his ‘pressing business’ before stalking upstairs.

I pushed open the door to my room, running a hand through my hair in exhaustion. Even with how smoothly the day had gone, how easily I had relaxed with Evelyn under the moon, the war with Hybern was enough to send every nerve in my body on edge.

Sitting in the chair at my desk, I began combing through the papers of reports sent to me by various members of the vast spy network I commanded. I had been so confident walking into Hybern’s castle, reassured by the multiple checks Cassian and I had conducted, the information coming into and out of the island, everything.

And for it to go so horribly, irrevocably wrong… I had failed.

I failed Rhysand. I failed Cassian. I failed Feyre. And I failed Evelyn.

For everything that I’d been through, somehow every night since, I had woken from a nightmare of some sort. In fact, most nights I found reasons not to sleep. It was almost easier when Evelyn was unconscious, having that drive to keep me going for days or weeks at a time. Because when I closed my eyes… It was either the memory of Cassian’s screams as his wings were shredded, Rhysand’s broken shouts when Hybern broke the bargain bond between him and Feyre, or the sight of Evelyn spilling out of the Cauldron that haunted me.

My eyes skimmed the reports, working automatically to look for words of importance, even as my brain spiraled into the events of that day. It had been about an hour when I realized I hadn’t heard Evelyn’s door open from down the hall, despite Rhys sending a message several minutes ago that dinner was soon.

I had just begun to stand when I felt the rumble of Rhysand’s power shake the foundations of the House. Several of my shadows returned from where I had stationed them in the corners of Evelyn’s room, practically shouting messages of danger at me.

I stepped into the shadows without a second thought, searching my way through the House until I found her. Rhysand stood in the doorway, a promise of violence in his eyes, while Feyre stood behind him.

Evelyn… Eve…

She sat on the bed, hair wild, eyes brimming with tears, dressed in little more than her pants and a plain chest binding. I stomped down the innate part of me that wanted to hide her away from the gaze of another male, the part that screamed mine. Now wasn’t the time.

Judging from the white light fading from the edges of her eyes and silhouette, she had lashed out with her power. And Rhys… Rhys had met it with his own

She desperately crawled toward Rhysand and her sister, begging, “I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to-”

“It doesn’t matter, Evelyn.”

My vision, clouded by the shadows, flashed red.

How dare he threaten her?

Rhysand’s tone was enough to kill a lesser Fae or at the very least turn them into a whimpering, sniveling mess.

Evelyn simply looked past him and at Feyre. Despite the seriousness of the situation, my chest filled with pride and all I wanted to do was kiss her for her relentless attitude. Her broken voice shattered that image as she nearly sobbed out, “Feyre, you have to believe me, please.”

At their silence, she crumbled into herself. And I had had enough.

I stepped out of the shadows, rising to stand in front of the bed. I flared my wings out, covering her and silencing that soul-deep need to make sure I was the only one to see her in such a state of undress.

I met Rhysand’s gaze steadily, no longer seeing my High Lord and Lady standing there, but threats to my mate’s safety. I would tear them down if it meant protecting her from harm.

“Leave her alone, Rhys.”

My brother looked torn but I knew the same instinct drove him as his expression hardened and he let his power fill the room. I didn’t balk though. I would never balk, not for her. My brother wouldn’t either, not for his mate. He said, “She attacked Feyre.”

“She didn’t know what she was doing.”

Feyre stepped forward, murmuring to Rhys, telling him to calm down, but I could see the hard glint in her eye too. She didn’t trust Evelyn’s ability to wield this power but I knew better. Evelyn wouldn’t hurt a fly; this power was just so corrupted that it acted on its own.

Even so, Feyre’s words calmed Rhysand down. I saw the way his shoulders relaxed and he reeled his power in a bit.

I flared my wings further, one hand twitching towards Truth-Teller, knowing my brother could still snap and the threat wasn’t completely neutralized. Evelyn shifted behind me, rising off the bed but I remained as still as I could, practically burning holes through Rhys with my glare.

“Azriel,” she whispered, placing a small hand on my shoulder. It was like a switch flipped in my brain at the sound of my name on her lips. I almost moaned at the physical contact like a fledgling Illyrian.

“It’s okay.”

And just like that, I wanted to curl up in her arms, rather than take her in mine. Those words had never sounded so sweet and I’d never actually believed them.

I took a deep breath.

She was here. She was alive. And she was whispering my name. It was okay.

In my moment of reflection, she side-stepped my wings, slowly approaching Rhysand and Feyre as she spoke, “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t even know I could do that.” Her voice wavered.

I would kill Hybern. I would tear him limb from limb and smile in his face as I did it. I’d kill that Cauldron too. Somehow. Anything to make them pay for her voice sounding like that.

She continued, tears streaming and quiet sobs between words, “All I know is that one second, I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my own skin and I couldn’t breathe. This body’s so… different and overwhelming. The next, Feyre was walking into the room and I was trying to stop her… I just didn’t want you to see me like that.”

Evelyn stopped in the middle of the room, her hair blanketing her, covering those sinful shoulders and her lack of clothing.

Feyre surged forward and my hand wrapped around the hilt of my dagger before Rhys commanded into my mind. Stop.

I bared my teeth at him but as Feyre took Evelyn into her arms, the two of them crying together, I realized there was no threat.

Rhys sent an image of us doing the same, me wrapped in his arms as we cried together in acceptance.

I flipped him off. Both mentally and physically but his smirk told me that we were okay.

That single gesture released a knot I hadn’t realized had formed in my stomach. As much as I was willing to take on the world, the Mother herself, and sacrifice each piece of myself for Evelyn, for 500 years I had been ready to do the same for Rhys and my court.

Maybe we could have our own version of what the Archeron sisters were sharing… with far less hugging and crying.

Feyre moved back to hold Evelyn at arm’s length, confessing, “When I became Fae… I didn’t have anybody to help me through that transition. I want you to know that you do.”

Rhys stiffened at the reminder of Under the Mountain. I did too. Cassian and I didn’t do well with reminders of Rhys’s sacrifice and our inability to do anything about it.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just being an Illyrian baby,” Feyre said, easily dispelling the tension.

Rhys sighed before apologizing, “I’m sorry, Evelyn. For my initial reaction. We just got Feyre back and… I could not bear losing her again. That being said, you do have to learn how to control that. I won’t allow you to put yourself or others at risk.”

I watched Evelyn nod, then try to cover herself. I growled low enough in my throat that only Rhysand noticed, meeting my eye over the top of her head. He gave me a teasing smirk.

“Maybe she should go to one of the camps to train.”

“No!” I snapped, stepping close enough to Evelyn to feel the heat of her bare skin. She jumped in fright and I reached out a tentative hand to her shoulder in apology.

Addressing Rhysand, I ground out, “She goes nowhere near those camps. I’ll train her.”

The triumphant look on his face taunted me as I realized that was exactly why he’d suggested it. The asshole was pulling the same shit as when he sent her to my room as I had gotten out of the shower. Backing me into a corner so my carefully crafted plan to stay as far away from her as I could to keep her out of harm’s way crumbled.

“She’s your responsibility then, Az.”

Fuck.

“Um, excuse me,” Evelyn’s bright voice spoke up, no longer choked with emotion. She took decisive steps over to Rhys, jabbing a finger into his chest, still ignoring just how easily he could snuff out her light. “I am my own responsibility, thank you very much.”

She walked back over to me and I spread my wings out as she wiggled her way to my side. It felt so right that I didn’t even let myself question the show of physical affection. “He’ll have to deal with me just as much as I’ll have to deal with him.”

I laughed at just how true her statement was.

Gods, I loved this female.

She smiled up at me and I looked down, smiling back. For a second, I was lost in the moment.

My heart reminded me that she was mine, my head realized she was grinning at me like I had put the sun in the sky, and my cock reminded me that she was half-naked.

Cauldron boil me.

Feyre’s voice sounded out distantly, “Well, like I was coming in to tell you, dinner is ready downstairs when you want to come down.”

Evelyn started, blushing at her sister as she glanced down at her uncovered chest. I smirked as I bent, grabbing the discarded shirt from where it sat on a pillow.

She looked around sheepishly as she said, “Oh, uh, thank you. I’ll come down in a minute, I just need to find-”

“This?”

I dangled the shirt from a finger, nearly winking at her as she pulled it over her head. It was rare to see her so flustered and I wanted to paint every room in the house that delicious shade of pink that dusted her round cheeks.

Rhys winnowed Feyre to the dining room, my shadows informing me that we were now alone. Evelyn straightened out her hair, patting down her shirt as if checking that it was really in place, and turned to the doorway. Her nose scrunched - in confusion, this time - as she found it empty.

She turned back to me with a half-smile.

“If you keep your face like that for too long, it’ll get stuck.”

I huffed a breath, not expecting the quip after how embarrassed she had been a moment before. I worked the smirk off my face, though it was hard considering how delicate she looked right now.

It was only as I traced her body that my gaze snagged on the raised red lines on her arms, already beginning to heal. Some of her nails were broken and I could see parts of her shirt that hadn’t completely survived the mauling she must have dealt it.

A panic attack. She’d been in here having a panic attack while I’d been doing paperwork.

“What you said… I mean. I’m sorry you felt that way. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling.” I tried to put myself in her place, realizing if someone stripped away every single one of my Fae abilities, leaving me utterly human, I wasn’t sure what I would do.

I was disgusted with myself for not realizing it sooner. And not realizing what was happening while I had been locked away in my own misery.

She sized me up, looking for all the world like I was nothing more than an insect that had wandered into her home. Not her mate. Not the Illyrian bastard who had killed and tortured too many to count. Not even… her friend. Just an interesting bug that posed no threat to her and Cauldron if that wasn’t refreshing. To be considered as I was and not for what people had heard or the persona I gave off.

Realizing that gave me the confidence to say, “If you ever need help with your ‘adjusting’, my door is open. And you know where my room is.”

Her brows furrowed at my teasing but her eyes gave away her amusement. As did the smile she subconsciously let slip and the scent… Fuck, what was she thinking about?

“Azriel, you know you didn’t have to do that. Defend me like that.”

It was my turn to be confused. How could I explain to her that I wanted to? That I always would? Without saying that.

Gods, why did this have to be so complicated? If I was anyone but myself… This would be simple.

“No, Evelyn. I did have to. Rhys means well but he doesn’t know… Just how bad those camps are. If I can help it, you’ll never have to see one. The things they do to females…” I thought of the screams, the scarring, the abuse. She’d get nowhere near it.

The memories of my father and brothers flooded me before I could stop them, my hands clenching at my sides as I heard my shadows frantically calling to me. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to catch my breath, trying to…

I felt her small, soft body collide with mine and my lips parted in surprise.

“Then thank you,” she whispered into my chest.

She squeezed me so tight, though I doubt she even realized it considering her previously human strength. It was enough to break a rib if she tried. But the pressure felt… calming, reassuring. It grounded me in a way I had never felt before.

She held me for minutes it felt like, until my breathing came easier.

She was the moon.

Just hours before we had stood on that bridge, the moon working the stress from my body as it had so many times before. It was constant, enduring.

She was my moon and I was the tide, drawn towards her yet pushed away in the most intoxicating dance.

She let go, starting to pull away, but I placed my hand on the small of her back as I had imagined doing so many times before. My hand sprawled nearly the entire expanse of her back, her muscles flexing as she leaned to tilt her head back.

“But I’m not more important than your relationship with Rhys.” She closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath. “You’ve known him for more than 500 years and me for a matter of what, months? I’m not worth it.”

Not worth it?

That’s what she thought of herself?

This brave, strong, infuriatingly sarcastic and smug, and beautiful Fae… Thought she wasn’t worth it.

If either of us were unworthy of the other it was me.

If each kill turned one drop of my blood black then all my veins ran darker than the shadows that surrounded me.

I wasn’t worthy. But she was. So I told her as much.

“Yes,” I breathed, reaching a hand up to caress the soft skin of her cheek. I swore I could feel the tears that had lined them. For once, I didn’t even mind the way my scarred hands look compared to her flawless skin as she sighed softly and leaned into my touch. “You are.”

Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

Her bottom lip was so inviting… I made my decision then.

If I could just taste her, claim her, once. Just once. Then it’d be enough. I’d thank the Mother for it every day and live the rest of my immortal life in bliss off the memory of her lips against mine and the noises she’d make for me.

“Can I-” I tried to ask.

But she beat me to it, with the attitude she always carried, “Just kiss me already, Azriel.”

Nearly a year of wanting burst through me in the form of a groan. My knees would have buckled from the sheer force of those words and all that they implied if I hadn’t been on a mission.

“As you wish,” I managed as I pulled her impossibly closer and claimed her lips with my own.

It was life-shattering and making at the same time. I felt that chord between us stretching tauter and tauter and I almost willed it to snap, for her to feel the way I felt.

But it didn’t matter because she was melting into my arms and my hand was tangling in her hair, wrenching her head to the side for better access as my tongue ran across her bottom lip.

The gasps and whimpers that left her as I ruined her for any other male went directly to my cock but I kept my focus on her lips. I stepped forward, crowding her space until she was forced to lean backward. My one hand held her up from her waist while the other remained in her hair.

Gods, this would never be enough.

I was a fool for thinking this would do anything more than make me crave her even more. Make me want her wrapped around me in the most sinful of ways, crying out even louder and screaming my name.

I felt my shadows swirling at my feet, trying to convey something, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.

Not as Evelyn arched her back, pushing her full breasts even more firmly against my chest and-

“What the hell?!”

Evelyn’s hands were on my chest in an instant, pushing me away from her.

I couldn’t move my focus from her, hypnotized by everything that was Eve, her flushed skin, swollen lips, and quick breaths.

It was only when her expression changed from lust to desolation that I registered a voice had spoken.

I turned to the door, only to find Cassian there. His eyes were wide and his mouth was gaping.

Fuck.

Taglist: @mis-lil-red @ambivertedcroissant @reareaikea @biblophilefox82 @in-some-fandoms @hollyismentallyillhelp @donttellmehowtowrite @issybee0611 @vera0124 @juulle987 @bankerfrog @pricklepearbloom @sevikas-whore @strawberyseas @azzydaddy @amberash05 @supersoilderswhxre @judig92 @historygeekqueen

#acopap #meeting eve #azriel x evelyn #azriel x reader #azriel pov

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acourtofthought · 1 year

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You Can Never Have Too Many Posts on That Bonus Chapter

“Are you out of your mind?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

“I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you, including her mate.”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

“What of Mor, Az”

Azriel ignored the question. “The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters yet the third was given to another?”

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

“You believe you deserve to be her mate?”

“I think Lucien will never be good enough for her and she has no interest in her anyway.”

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

“So you’ll what? Seduce her away from him?”

Azriel said nothing. He hadn’t gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to.”

Seriously, did Azriel give Rhys a single direct answer to ANY of the questions he asked? This was his formula:

Feign ignorance.

Answer his question with a different question.

Ignore the question.

Deflect the question with a different statement.

Ignore the question.

It’s like talking a parent trying to talk to a angry 15 year old boy caught doing something wrong. This conversation is so extremely concerning yet there are still those who claim that it’s romantic.

Also, Az knows he doesn’t have a mating bond with Elain and that she has one with Lucien. That’s not something that he can change and honestly the fact that he’s wasting time wishing it would change means he’s saying, “I may have feelings for Elain but those feelings are not enough on their own because I still wish she were my mate”. It would be like my saying, “I have feelings for this guy but I’m a little upset that he’s not a doctor because my sisters are both married to doctors”. 😬 It sort of cheapens the romance there, doesn’t it?

Elain and Az haven't even discussed a relationship together yet Az is already wishing for more than she will ever be able to give him by asking "what if the Cauldron was wrong". Chances are the Cauldron wasn't wrong so now what Az? The Cauldron was right, Elain and Lucien are in fact mates, so what's your next step? (pretty sure he hasn't gotten that far with his planning). The only thing he's concerned about is that he wasn't given a bond and that's as far as his thoughts have gone.

Say Elain suddenly becomes Azriel's Mate, doesn't it seem like rewarding a child for bad behavior? "Here Az, you weren't happy to love Elain as an individual despite her having a bond with someone else since the bond was the only thing you could focus on so I'll be sure to give in to your pouting and tantrums by making her your Mate instead!

I’m not faulting Az for wanting a Mate. When a matched bond is a sacred thing, who wouldn’t want that? But he knows Elain is not his mate and cannot be his Mate since the ACOTAR characters haven't spoken of the possibility of two bonds. Yet he is still fixated on it. He and Elain are not together, they’re not dating, he literally tells us he’s been avoiding her so they haven’t spent any real time with one another, they haven’t confessed anything other than the obvious clue that they shared a physical attraction, he hasn’t asked Elain to have a discussion with Lucien about her bond with him so Az and Elain can go public with their relationship after going about it the right way, and a BOND is the thing Azriel is fixated on. It makes his intentions completely insincere and his emotions for her extremely shallow. There are a million other things that should be addressed first, other steps to focus on in order for them to be together (since as far as he knows, he can't change the Cauldron) yet Azriel has not given those things any thought beyond his sexual fantasies that exist in the dead of night.

His thought process should have been:

I think I might like Elain.

If we had a bond together, this would be easier.

But we don't, so what can we do to try and be together anyway?

I need to first talk to Elain and see if she's willing to reject her bond with Lucien.

She needs to then talk to Lucien.

She and I are then free to love one another out in the open and share that love with our friends and family.

What number is Az stuck on again? That's right, number 2. And none of the above even accounts for the fact that he's not completely over Mor. For arguments sake I've taken her out of the equation, yet Az still is not focused on the right things if he had the feelings for Elain that E/riels claim he has.

#antie/riel #elucien #azriel pov #anti e/riel

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hlizr50 · 1 year

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Gwynriel Weeks Day 1: A Series of Firsts

I have returned to the Gwynriel fanfic scene!!!!

May I present to you a little oneshot titled The First Valkyrie, which is Azriel's POV of Gwyn cutting the ribbon in ACOSF. I've always wanted to explore Azriel's POV in a few of these really defining moments in ACOSF, and this has given me the perfect opportunity!

Read on AO3

How about a little tease to pique your interest:

She was incredible. Nobody would ever convince him otherwise. With boundless determination, an iron will, and stubbornness that rivaled his own. They had only shared one private lesson, not counting his impromptu tutelage after the disaster that was the Winter Solstice, but her fire had surprised him. The shadowsinger couldn’t fathom why - he’d watched her with that same rapt fascination every chance he got during training, reveling in the way she was finding her strength one punch and slice and jab at a time.

Now, as Gwyneth Berdara prepared to face this challenge, Azriel felt a great surge of pride burst forth, expanding his chest. And then she whispered those world-shattering, heart-wrenching words.

“I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break me.”

Tag List: @gwynrielweeksoffical @headcanonheadcase @vikingmagic33 @mystical-blaise @daevastanner @damedechance @ofduskanddreams @booknerd87 @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @imsointobooks @mercarimari @sv0430 @flora-shadowshine @positivewitch @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @writing-spaces @onemorenightdreamer @feyretale @almosttenaciousmoon @live-the-fangirl-life @silverflameataraxia @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @kimstclair @romancebooksandshit @houseofhurricane

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gwyns-shadowsinger · 2 years

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Gwynriel’s “Her breath curled in front of her mouth and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it head some silent music." (Azriel POV bonus chapter, ACOSF)

🤝 Rowaelin’s “Rowan made her magic sing. And maybe that was the carrangam bond between, but… her magic wanted to dance with his”. (Empire of Storms, ch. 2)

🤝 Nessian’s “the golden threads shimmered and sang, and she couldn’t take it, the music between their souls...” (ACOSF, ch. 58 (pg. 610))

Gwynriel’s “... something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed.” (Azriel POV bonus chapter, ACOSF)

🤝 Quinlar’s “She made a soft sound and nuzzled her head into his neck. Something deep in him shifted and settled.” (HOEAB, ch. 62 (pg. 580))

Gwynriel’s “he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer” (Azriel POV bonus chapter, ACOSF)

🤝 Quinlar’s “His lightning flowed into her like a river, and he could have sworn he heard a beautiful sort of music between their souls…” (HOSAB, ch. 64 (pg. 691))

🤝 Nessian’s “For it was music between their souls. Always had been. And his voice was her favorite melody.” (ACOSF, ch. 58 (pg. 610))

🤝 Rowaelin’s “Rowan made her magic sing. And maybe that was the carrangam bond between, but…her magic wanted to dance with his”. (Empire of Storms, ch. 2)

🤝 Feysand's “We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world.” (ACOMAF, ch. 55 (pg. 533))

Gwynriel’s “Something sparked in Azriel’s chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn’s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason… he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.” (Azriel POV bonus chapter, ACOSF)

🤝 Feyand’s “The painting flashed into my mind. Flashed- and stayed there, glimmering, before it faded. But it remained, shining faintly, in that hole inside my chest. The hole that was slowly starting to heal over” (ACOMAF, ch. 38 (pg. 372))

🤝 Quinlar’s “You could us some joy,” Hunt said quietly. Something bright sparked in her chest. “So could you,” she said, attempting to press the opal back into his palm.” (HOEAB, ch. 58 (pg. 538))

🤝 Rowaelin's “Rowan scanned the field, heart thundering. But the bond in his chest glowed strong, fire-bright.” (Kingdom of Ash, ch. 107)

🤝 Rowaelin’s “And somewhere far and deep inside her, an ember began to glow.” (Heir of Fire, ch. 35)

👀 🤭

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #acosf #azriel pov #sarah j maas #acotar 5 theories #acotar #gwynriel parallels

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kindasleepywriter · 4 months

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Bird of Prey ~ Chapter 8: Forging a Warrior

Bird of Prey masterlist. Azriel x Reader.

Chapter summary: Azriel helps you open up about your past.

Story rating: Mature - Minors DNI

Warnings: Child abuse, neglectful/absent parents, torture (yes again i'm sorry she's been through a lot)

Word count: 2.6k

Prev | Next

“My parents,” you started, “were mates. I know that’s not exciting for the Inner Circle, with your abnormal amount of mating bonds. It’s almost statistically impossible, really.”

Azriel laughed and shook his head softly at the comment.

“For the common people who don’t take baths in mythical objects, you know that’s rare. Very rare. My mother was a respected officer in the Dawn legions, and so was my father in the Illyrian army. They both were powerful enough to gain recognition at the time. When their bond snapped, everyone was uneasy at the thought of a child born of the two courts, but the idea of fated offspring from two powerful magic wielders was enough for them to tolerate their offspring. They kept it all very hush-hush, until they were certain where I’d end up.”

“I say they’re mates but it certainly wasn’t the romantic dream people portray.” you continued. “The hate between Peregryns and the Illyrian… well, I’m sure you’re aware of how deeply entrenched it is. When I was born, I was just a piece of property to be used as a bargaining chip. Dawn and Night battled over me like children, claiming they had the right to claim me. In the end, it was settled that I’d get education in both courts, that negotiations would take place when I’d have my first bleed, and that I’d be married off to someone in whichever court ended up not owning me.” You shuddered slightly at the memory. You’d been made aware of the potential suitors during your teenage years, and you knew a future with the men that each high lord put forward would be misery.

Azriel’s face darkened. He seemed not to be a fan of the arranged marriages that run rampant in Illyria, you thought.

“I’d have expected such a trade from the Illyrians,” he said through gritted teeth, “but for the Dawn court to be involved in such dealings… They must’ve expected a lot from you.”

You let out a snort. That wasn’t even the beginning of it.

“This was Thesan’s doing?” he added, and you could practically see the spymaster master gears start running in his head.

“No, I think Thesan would’ve done things differently.” You had never truly met him, but you’d heard enough from the people through your travels. He was a much kinder man or, at the very least, not someone who’d encourage the treatment you’d received as a mere child. Azriel appeared relieved at your words.

You hadn’t known the Shadowsinger that long, but you’d seen enough to understand he was willing to go to great lengths for the people he… cared about. There was no other way to put it. He’d begun caring for you as you had for him and, even if it scared you to death, it brought you much comfort.

“They expected me to move mountains,” you said, “and stop a thousand-man army without breaking a sweat by the time I was twelve. I was trained in every type of combat they could think of from the moment I could stand and hold a stick. Imagine a 6-year-old being treated like any grown soldier in the camps... I could deal with the physical training, but it was the hate and mockery of both courts that dealt the most damage. I hadn’t even grown my first flight feathers before I had heard every sort of insult possible and faced beatings from soldiers of all ages.”

“My parents…” you added hesitantly as you felt your voice wavering, “They didn’t care. If anything, they encouraged the others, because what worth could I have if I couldn’t protect myself? They berated me whenever I told them, they’d answer that it didn’t matter that the ones dealing the blows were twice my age, as I’d have to face much worse ‘out there in the real world’.

It deteriorated as I got older, without any magic to show for myself. The courts were growing restless, demanding things I couldn’t give them and, when I wasn’t able to do as they asked, they took any means possible to verify I wasn’t lying. During those years, they put me through pain… pain I hadn’t even imagined was possible.”

You blinked and looked up at the light blue morning light, trying and failing to keep your tears from falling. You felt the phantom slice of the blades, the coals, the spears they had used, every time you fell asleep. They’d keep you from unconsciousness each time and healers healed your wound, but you didn’t need the scars they’d erased as a reminder. You still carried your past with you every day.

You felt the subtle touch of Azriel’s shadows, still roaming hesitantly where you were perched on the railing. They slid over your shoulders, a weight to keep you anchored in the present. Azriel approached you silently, conscious of your distress. He looked murderous, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He raised a hand towards you but seemed to think better of it and retreated. You gripped him before he had the chance, uncertainty in his eyes at the contact of your skin against his. You silently ran your thumb over his rigid knuckles, trying to match the rhythm of his respiration as to calm yourself and focusing on the texture beneath the pads of your fingers.

You knew of the burns on his hand, you’d noticed them almost immediately upon meeting him, but they were anything but repulsive, despite what he seemed to think. They were a part of his history, what had made him into the man he is now, and you found that there was a pride to be found in them. It showed he’d survived, that he was stronger than what had happened to him.

He relaxed after a moment and stepped closer to you, hesitantly wiping your tears away with his free hand.

You were too deep in your own mind to think about the intimacy of the situation.

“When they finally realized that I was as good as powerless” you said, “No one wanted me. From that moment, I was just a disgusting half-breed on which they’d wasted their time. It didn’t matter that I could take on their best soldiers from adolescence, my blood was too tainted for them to bother with me. My father turned his back on me and stopped contact entirely. My mother decided to keep me in the end, and I still don’t know if it was a moment of weakness at the thought of leaving her child at the mercy of the world, or if it was just in hopes of me eventually discovering some hidden powers. I never asked her; I was too afraid of the answer. She sent me to some second residence she owned, hidden away from anyone else, where I kept training on my own and worked myself into the ground, still desperately hoping I could be what they all wanted.”

Azriel frowned. “I understand you would be easily recognizable in Illyria, but how could people even tell you weren’t fully Peregryn in Dawn? Surely, they couldn’t notice it at first glance.”

“The knowledge of my existence had traveled too far. Dawn had paraded me like cattle, hoping to lay claim. There’s also… There’s one obvious thing. It’s something I’ve kept hidden for a while now. I think the Vanseras might be the only ones outside of Dawn who even know about it. It’s very visible and it puts a target on my back. I didn’t want my presence tracked across Prythian that easily after I left Autumn.”

It was time for someone to know, you thought. If only to be able to stretch your wings, to finally get rid of the fears that you held for them. You steeled yourself for what you were about to do and looked around towards the house, peering into the balcony doors and to the roof, making sure you weren’t watched. The last thing you wanted was for this to reach Rhysand’s knowledge. His father had done enough damage to you as is, you didn’t need him to try and do the same.

At your hesitance, some of Azriel’s roaming shadows slithered in all surrounding areas, sweeping over windows and doors. “There’s no one here to see.” he reassured you softly after a moment, from where he now stood between your parted legs, your hands still joined together. You felt your anxiety fade a little; you didn’t find any dishonesty in his words.

You hesitated, still. He pointed his chin at his own membranous wings, and they stretched, slightly curved inward towards you, and brushed along each of your shoulders. He was inviting you to follow his movements, you realized.

Slowly, you straightened your spine and used the rarely used muscles that crossed your back to slowly unfold your wings. You kept them at a certain distance from Azriel’s, you weren’t quite ready for that type of contact. You winced at your wings’ stiffness, but shook them out to fully extend them, exposing the inky black dawn feathers that lined their interior surface.

Azriel’s mouth opened slightly in shock as he studied the expanse of plumage, razor focused. You knew they were unusual, the harsh contrast of white and black and sharp corners of them drawing the eye, and you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious at his reaction. While you held no hate towards your own wings, you’d never let someone fully examine them since you were a child and had only ever received insults from others about their appearance.

“They’re beautiful, Dove.” he breathed, following every feather. The tension you held didn’t leave you.

“You might be the first one to say that.” you laughed half-heartedly.

His eyes cut to yours sharply. “They must’ve all been idiots, because those are the most magnificent wings I’ve ever seen.”

You flushed at the praise, barely holding his gaze as you shied at the attention. His hands twitched between yours, no doubt itching to study the feathers closer, and you guided one of his towards the closest ones. You instinctively felt the need to fold your wings away from the touch of another person, but you held a tight lid on your feelings and stayed as still as possible when his fingers brushed against one of the longest flight feathers.

You only twitched at the contact, keeping your focus on Azriel’s expression. He looked mesmerized as he explored the surface under his touch. You had no trouble believing he hadn’t lied about liking them, his childlike wonder blowing away any doubts you may have had earlier.

“You have a bigger wingspan than I do.” he said unexpectedly with narrowed eyes, as if the thought had slipped from him unwillingly. You couldn’t stop the startled laugh that escaped you, amusement flaring through you. He’d just added an onslaught of teasing to his future.

Your fidgeting hands found his wings too as you giggled. You waited for a moment before touching them, and he made no comment on your intentions despite you knowing he was fully aware of your movements. He never missed anything. You barely touched the membrane, but then softly ran your fingers along the base of his talons and you felt him shudder under your hands.

“Don’t- Don’t start something you won’t finish, Dove.” he said hoarsely, lightly gripping the feather he was examining. You laughed again as you remembered the sensitivity of the Illyrian wings. You’d never had the opportunity to study these reactions up close, having never laid with an Illyrian, but you’d heard about the anatomy all the same in the camps.

“I won’t torment you today.” you teased softly, your hands retreating to rest at the nape of his neck.

He tried to imitate the gesture you’d attempted earlier, receiving nothing but another light twitch in response. “Do you not feel that?” he questioned, indignant at your lack of reaction.

“I do and it feels nice, we just have different… different erogenous zones.”

“Of course, you’d be the one person to actually call it an ‘erogenous zone’.” he muttered under his breath as you continued giggling at his display of irritation. You couldn’t help but think that he might get to figure how to make you shiver too… but only if you stayed. The last thought dampened your mood. You shouldn’t be thinking about that now. Trust him, you reminded yourself, Stop thinking about fleeing.

You curled your fingers into his hair and sighed as he continued his ministrations. Despite your thoughts, you were far more relaxed than you’d been in a long time. You didn’t remember ever letting someone touch your wings without you being forced or pressured into it, and the care he put into caressing the soft dawn feathers felt heavenly. You leaned forward and sighed, face dropping to Azriel’s neck and finger still raking through his curls.

“I didn’t tell you everything yet.” you murmured.

Azriel hummed in response, the decision to continue or not remaining yours. You didn’t want to break the moment, but you couldn’t stop halfway through. You didn’t move away from him as you spoke softly against his skin.

“When my mother died, I didn’t inherit anything.” You started. “I don’t know who got her things instead. Some officer from the legion just showed up one day, broke the news, and promptly kicked me out. I barely had time to pack a bag. I didn’t feel like I could stay in Dawn, but I didn’t have anywhere to go either. I tried to send a letter to my father and never got a reply, so I naively assumed he didn’t receive it. I knew he had no interest in me previously, but I thought he’d show some mercy to a child he’d had with his mate. I traveled there and- well, you know the rest.”

Azriel stayed silent for a moment. “Your parents were some right shitheads.”, he finally said, and you didn’t have to see him to guess the frown that adorned his face.

“You’re telling me.” you muttered. “I take special comfort in knowing they both died painfully. Those two assholes both ended up rotting away alone in their courts from infections, not gloriously on the battlefield like they must’ve dreamt.” Fate had gotten that right, at least.

He chuckled and let go of your wings, instead wrapping his arms loosely around you, completely undeterred by the cruelness of your words. You basked in his closeness.

The moment was too short for your liking before his grip on you tightened. A few of his shadows emerged from the balcony doors, and he groaned deeply.

“We have approximately 2 minutes before Rhys and Amren come here to try and convince you to start training your magic.” he said.

You muttered a few choice words that conveyed exactly what you thought of the idea.

“That’s what I thought you’d say, Dove.” You pulled back and glanced at him. He had a mischievous look in his eyes. “You know, there’s a lot to do in the city.”

“I feel like an escape plan might be brewing,” you said with an arched brow. He smiled in response. “Won’t they be mad at you for leaving with me?”

“Not if they don’t catch us.” he laughed.

Rhysand and Amren found nothing but the remnants of your scents, flowing through the breeze.

Finally another soft moment 🙏 be prepared for a LOT of (requited) pining y'all

I've got a couple chapters already written that I'll just need to edit over the next few weeks, so the update will continue like they have so far!

As always, I'd love to hear what you guys think about the story and your theories on what's happening next 💛💛

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#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel POV #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #enemies to lovers #bird of prey

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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year

Text

Overwritten – Part 2

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel.

Warnings: Violence, torture, injuries

Words: 1,472

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Part 2 ∇

“Oh my word!” Feyre ran towards the Spymaster while he waded through the grass of the camp ground, your unconscious body still close to his chest. “Is she alright?”

Azriel didn't answer as he stalked past, his eyes focused forward as he geared for his tent – your tent. Rhys caressed his mate’s face, catching her up mind to mind.

As promised, Madja was already inside, preparing the cot and supplies she may need. She hurried over to the Shadowsinger as soon as he burst through the entrance, not waiting for him to set you down to make her initial observations. While you were limp in his arms, Madja pressed her fingers to your wrist and placed the back of her palm against your clammy forehead, tutting under her breath.

While he didnt dare speak, Azriel’s golden eyes swirled with desperation, his gaze begging her for good news. His shadows hovered around you, doing their best to keep away as Madja assessed you. Drawing her hands back across her chest, she let out a quick breath.

“She’ll live,” she said plainly, Azriel’s figure sagging in relief for the third time that night. “She’s severely malnourished, dehydrated, and she’s fighting an infection. There’s also something else I can't quite place.”

“It’s poison.” Rhys spoke from behind Azriel, he and Feyre having entered the tent. “I can see how it plagues her mind.”

Azriel couldn't help the twang of jealousy he felt at his brother’s deamati abilities. To be able see into your mind and ease your pain, to help you sleep – these were things he would sell his soul to provide for you.

“I can feel it too, through the bond,” Azriel added gruffly. “And smell it in her scent.”

Madja nodded. “We’ll need to find the exact source for the right antidote.”

“We’ll arrange for Cassian to search the prison,” Feyre said calmly, her eyes distant as she reached the General through his mind.

Madja ushered Azriel towards the cot, directing him to place you down. It took a quiet moment to fight his own instinct to ever let you go, but your mate set you down gently, bringing a soft hand to caress your cheek. Your skin was greyish, lacking sunlight, blood, life… Azriel hoped the pain he felt at the sight of your disheveled state couldn't be sensed down the bond.

“What of her pain?” he asked helplessly, crouching at your side. Rhys’s hand rested on his shoulder, Azriel refusing to turn from you.

“I’ve blocked her pain and willed a dreamless sleep,” Rhys reassured him.

“Good,” said Madja. “Keep it that way. She needs to fight the infection.” Rhys nodded tightly and Azriel sighed, noting the beads of sweat that formed on your face. Reaching for a nearby cloth, he dotted the sweat away.

Madja shooed Azriel away from your cot, working to clean the visible cuts and aid the bruises that spotted your body. Rhys took the opportunity to pull his brother to the side – his shadows lingering back, soothing you while you slept.

“Az, you need to prepare yourself for when she wakes.”

Azriel frowned, folding his arms over his chest, blue siphons flaring. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Feyre looked between the two males before placing a gentle hand on Azriel’s forearm. “Y/N was not herself when Rhys and Cass found her,” she said softly, her eyes full of sympathy for the Shadowinger.

“What are you saying?” Azriel's jaw ticked, his usual stoic demeanour replaced with irritated impatience and concern.

“She didn't recognise who we were,” Rhys said. Azriel’s eyes darted between his High Lord and Lady, now panicked. Rhys spoke quickly. “It’s likely the poison had caused her delirium, but she was violent Az, completely feral if I may speak plainly.”

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “I can feel her down the bond. She’s still there, she’ll remember.”

“Good,” Feyre said with a broken smile. “That’s good. Keep reaching out, keep her grounded.” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm now, attempting to soothe him.

Azriel nodded, looking past the couple as your limp state. Overwhelmed by relief, regret, and fear of the unknown, tears began to sting at the Shadowsinger’s eyes. Burying his face in one hand, he tried to hide the evidence of his emotions, but his friends were too perceptive.

‘It’ll be ok, Az,” Feyre soothed.

“She’s here now brother, try not to fret,” Rhys added.

Now that he had found you, Azriel finally allowed the shame he had been burying for all those months to surface. “She’s my mate,” he said quietly, his husky voice breaking as his tears flowed freely. “She’s my mate, and I let this happen to her.”

Feyre and Rhys exchanged a pained look, agreeing down their own bond that if it had been the other, they would likely blame themselves too.

Ever so thoughtfully, Feyre guided Azriel to a seat next to your cot. Azriel slumped into the chair, his face buried in his hands as he tried to control his emotions. His shadows found him again, building around his frame – hiding, concealing.

“Stay with her brother,” Rhys patted Azriel on the shoulder. “Help her find her way back.”

Azriel nodded stiffly, mumbling a thanks to his High Lord and Lady as they left you to sleep, and him to agonise in privacy.

————

You stumbled through never ending void of complete white. No sound could be heard, and the air was still. Your heart pounded as you looked around you – sensing danger was near, but you just couldn't see it.

This wasn't a dream, no, it was far too painful, but it wasn't reality either. It was a trance of types – one meant as a message or warning. One you would be sure to adhere.

You whirled, searching for any signs of life. Walking was becoming more difficult, your limbs heavy as if something plagued you, dragging you down.

Finally, you reached the edge. The edge of nothingness. Peering down, you could only see depth. One more step would send you careening into the white abyss, falling forever into nothingness, never to be found again. Your head ached as you tried to remember anything beyond this place. A world, a face, even a sound. The pain was blinding, even just to think.

It was then that you saw the shadows, the unmistakable peaks of wings blocking whatever light and warmth as they cast over you. Gasping, you spun, your stance instinctively defensive.

The male grinned down at you, his wicked smile lethal as his hazel eyes swirled. A long, serpent-like tongue glided over his teeth – no, fangs. You didn't know what he was – a devil, a demon, perhaps an angel of death. Every part of your screamed at you to take that jump of the edge, begging you to choose the infinite free fall than to be surely killed by this thing.

His figure grew then, elongating and towering over you as his eyes changed from honey gold to a vicious red. Shadows swarmed you, pinning you to the ground. It was too late to run.

“Leave me alone!” you managed to scream, fighting against the shadows. It was hard to hear your voice over the roar of panic in your ears. Little light remained as darkness filled your vision, the creature lowering his gaze, preparing to attack. Hands turned to talons before a snarl ripped from him, his bright eyes fixed on your throat.

The snarl grew to a roar as he launched, a piercing sound escaping you as you screamed for your life.

————

Azriel jumped as you jolted awake, flying upwards as you clung to your chest, gasping. With frantic eyes you scanned the room, clutching at your filthy tunic and running a shaky hand through your hair. Azriel’s heart broke at your panic, before quickly pounding in anticipation. This was the moment he had ached, dreamt and killed for – the moment he got his mate back.

“Y/N?” he said softly, his voice just above a whisper. Frantic eyes found him then, widening, then darkening as they fixed on his face.

He slowly raised a hand to his chest, the other extending to your cot. “Y/N, my love, I’m so sorry.” Azriel’s eyes swelled with despair, his guilt consuming as he reached for you. You remained unmoving, your gaze shifting to where his hand now rested, almost touching you.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now,” he said in attempt to reassure you. Your chest moved up and down with breathy pants, your eyes trailing his strong arm back to his face as you studied him.

There was a beat of silence between you, just the sound of your breathing filling the tent. Your expression was unreadable as you stared at him blankly.

“Y/N, it’s me, Azriel.”

Despite Rhys’s warning, Azriel was unprepared when you launched for him, knocking him to the floor.

Eyes wide, he clawed at your hands that were tightly wrapped around his neck, your own eyes dark as you slowly choked the air out of the Shadowsinger.

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Part 3 >>>

AN: 👀 I hope you liked Part 2!!! 💕

Comment if you’d like to join the series or general tag list, and thank you always for reading!

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