#azriel headcanons

[readychilledwine]

Pleaseee please could you do obsessive acotar boys who can’t get enough of reader please?

Obsessed

Clingy ACOTAR boys headcanons

Warnings- suggestive themes, mentions of abuse, possessive vibes, death, different ideas I either tossed out or was too insecure to post in short form (including an AU where Feyre doesn't destroy Spring and Tamlin isn't turned into what he's turned into), Beron, abuse, the Weaver, Ianthe, pregnancy

Rhysand

The bond snapped after Feyre freed them from the mountain. You were walking with her, giggling about heading home to Spring.

Of course, his mate was his enemy's little sister, and of course that only further the obsession.

Rhys wanted to free you from under Tamlin's grasp, and it became his mission.

It started with daily letters that you ignored.

Then gifts brought to you by shadows.

Then he'd show up in your room. Smiling as he leaned back against your headboard. "Hello y/n Darling."

You caved after 2 weeks of his nightly visits. Allowing him to plan your "kidnapping"

He rips you from Spring with Feyre. Having convinced Tamlin that if he was so worried about his bride to be, he should send his baby sister as a chaperone.

Once he has you in his home, in your home, those soft touches you two shared at night were no longer enough

His lips were on your body constantly. Your hands, your neck, your own soft lips.

Speaking of hands, I hope you like physical contact, because he has to constantly touch you.

In public, the placement is so respectful. Lower back to the lower side, resting just about your hips, guiding you as you shop and spend his money.

When you finally warm his bed, he cancels all plans the next day to ensure he has proper time to explore your body.

He memorized every freckle, every stretch mark, every scar. He doesn't stop until he knows every ticklish spot, every spot that makes your toes curl.

His love languages are gifts and physical touch, so once you opened that box, you opened a whole can of worms.

You are pulled into unused bedrooms, his office, Azriel and Cassian's offices when they're away, supply closets. He doesn't stop until he's tasted you on every surface and in every room.

I wish you luck during the frenzy. He won't stop until you are throughly spent and bred. How else will he ensure you never leave him?

Cassian

He had admired you while you two were growing up together in Windhaven.

He watched you do your chores and got his ass kicked for it more than he wants to admit.

Even at a young age, Cassian courted you. He didn't care that the flowers he was pulling were weeds. He still turned them into a bouquet or had Rhysand's mother weave them into your hair.

That didn't change as you two grew older together. By 18, it was known you were his, and by that point, everyone knew not to fuck with what's Cassian's.

He wouldn't touch you until your chores were done, wanting to spare you what little pain he could from your father's heavy hand.

Cassian wasn't respectful with his hand placement. The male has always had high sex drive, and he found his match in you.

You and Cassian shamelessly fucked in places that had your dear mother crying. The weapon storage shed. The forest. The mess hall once it was empty.

It was no shock to anyone, especially not you and Cassian, when the bond snapped right as he was leaving for the first war with Hybern.

When he came home to you and took you to Velaris, all bets were off. Rhys settled you two into the House of Wind, Azriel into the Riverhouse, and he took the townhouse.

The two of them never flew to the House of Wind without warning you or Cassian first. To do so had them risking walking in on you riding or Cassian with his head thrown back as you screamed for him.

Cassian can't stop touching you. He can't stop talking about you. He can't stop being in love with you. Even if the only way he knows how to show it is physically.

Not that you're complaining. You didn't need to walk anywhere today.

Azriel

Azriel worshipped you the second Rhysand's mother brought you back to the cabin.

Your voice became salvation, your scent became home, and your hands healed part of him he did not even know was broken.

The bond snapped young for you two. He had just turned 18, and you were still 16. He took his distance then, allowing you to explore the world much to your own protests. You understood why after two years.

It was the most selfless thing anyone had ever done for you. He allowed you to grow without his influence, despite how painful it had to have been watching you with other males.

Your father sees this whole relationship and mateship as a benefit to him alone. He takes you and Azriel to Velaris during the war.

He unknowingly allowed the relationship to go to heights he had already said were off limits to Azriel.

The number of times you had to mask your scent during dinner because a shadow was all too happily playing in your skirts was almost comical.

The relationship between you two is never able to go beyond heated kisses, stolen touches, and lingering glances.

Even in death, Azriel comes to you, speaking to you when he's lost and lonely.

He still obsessed over you, wishing he had more time, wishing he was with you. But the pain lessened.

Being ripped from the Cauldron by Amren was painful and terrifying.

You had a new body, modeled after your old one. You were slightly taller this time, and your face was still able to send males to war.

As much as it pained Azriel, he allowed Rhysand to be the first to you. He allowed your brother to be the one to hold you as you cried, confused and asking where you were. He let Mor go next, then Amren listening as the ancient being told you it was okay and that your purpose was not finished, so she was told to bring you back. Cassian dropped to his knees before you. Holding you as he apologized.

But Azriel waited. He walked beside you in silence as you were taken to the warcamp.

All bets were off once you were in his tent.

You don't know if you rushed to him first or if he came to you, but that reunion kiss was rough. Too much teeth and tongue. Tears falling down both of your faces.

He took things slowly with you. Your first life granted you powers like the world had never seen before, and this time was no different. You could move the stars at will, silence the connect other fae shared with their magic without even having to loosen a breath.

It was final confirmation of what many already knew. Rhysand was high lord due to his cock, not his power, and that sheer fact had Azriel on his knees for you once you were ready.

You are his living goddess, and Azriel is always ready to worship.

Lucien

Eris saved both of you. He had sent you to Spring long before you could be ripped from the market in autumn.

Lucien joined you soon after. Crying to the Mother in gratitude the second you came out from hiding behind Tamlin.

You were a rare breed of lesser fae. Your kind looked similar to the high fae by all means, but your kind had the ability to communicate with every living being.

You knew the names of each tree, of each flower, every critter. You could hear the winds whispers, see the colors he asked you to, and tell them all the meaning.

Your kind had been hunted for years, much like the shadowsingers.

It made Lucien almost unbearable when it came to his protective streak. But so did this new freedom.

Lucien is shamelessly in love with you. As an emissary, he gets to travel places you will never see. But he always brings you something back because you are always on his mind.

He brings you ornaments from Winter, jewelry from Day, sea shells from Summer, clothing from Dawn.

Lucien will speak about you for hours on end. It makes Tamlin crazy at times, but seeing how naturally you two fit together quickly makes the sting of jealousy fade.

Lucien purposes under a willow tree. Your absolute favorite one that you go to for guidance. Even if the bond does not snap, he wants you as his wife.

And boy does being his wife make things interesting.

He is suddenly growling at any male who studies your body for too long. Holding you from behind at all times. Showering you with even more things.

The bond snaps after Amarantha mutilated him. It snapped as you were nursing him back to health. Reminding him his beauty has nothing to do with why you love him, but instead it is his kindness and his soul.

You two become mutually obsessed from that point forward. More often than not, you will send a bird to shit on someone if they harm Lucien in any sense.

You both can not keep your hands to yourself anymore. It was as if that scar actually sealed his place as the most handsome male you had ever laid eyes on.

He sends you away to the forest when the 50 years is coming to a close. Not caring if he dies for it.

You would be his last thought if he did. And during that second trial, you were his only thought.

Everything he had done was for your safety, and if he ever saw you again, he would whisper those one thousand words he wanted to say as he laid between your legs, and he would never let go again.

Eris

Childhood best friends to lovers? Anyone? Anyone?

Well... kind of childhood best friends.

You met Eris when he was 6 and you were 5.

Your parents were one of two shadow hound breeders, and Beron was desperate to get his hands on one of your family's pups specifically.

You had this special talent that you could use from the moment you were able to. You seemed to know which hounds needed to be bred together to create the most powerful litters. And you did it all without inbreeding.

Your family quickly took hold of the other breeder's dogs, and you, your father's pride and joy, made their lives better.

Eris becomes obsessed with you from that day forward, and Beron knows it. Hence why you two are married at the young ages of 18 and 17.

Eris is madly in love and in private is very expressive of that.

He shows his love through praise.

"You look absolutely stunning today, little fox," is a common greeting as he brings you a tray of fresh fruits, eggs, breakfast meat of choice, and toast.

The sap cuts your toast into a heart.

He's a hopeless romantic, and it kills you that no one is able to see how he is with you outside of his mother amd your parents who are waiting for the day they get to go to war for him.

The second you end up pregnant, Eris's love turned into true obsession and not the healthy normal kind between partners.

He becomes possessive and overprotective. Your suddenly moved to one of his private hunting cabins with a guard detail and private healer assigned to you and you only.

He has to have his hands on you at all times. The only exception is when he is at the Forest House.

It is love. You know that deep down, but Gods, you are lonely.

You understand why this is happening, though, when he shows up beaten and bruised, limping into your arms for any sense of comfort.

His obsession is your safety. The safety of the lives you carry.

Once you birth his twins, the game changes. The obsession is now on him not being able to get enough of your new body.

Your mom body lives rent-free in Eris's mind. He's stroked himself in his office to the thought of your fuller breasts and supple hips more times than he'd like to admit.

He loves to squeeze your hips, loving the soft feel of them.

He would have gone to war for you beforehand. He does it now.

He wants to see a crown of leaves and berries on your head, sparkling but failing in comparison to the gem he has in his bed.

He crowns you high lady during his coronation.

You are his, and he is yours, regardless of that bond never snapping. You two do not need the Mother nor the Cauldron to decide you are each other's equal and other halves. You already know.

Tamlin

You knew you were Tamlin's mate long before Amarantha. You were a well kept secret, hidden out of fear of Rhysand coming to take you as well.

You made home in The Middle. Becoming friends with the Weaver was interesting, but you two forged a relationship. You bring her food, she offers protection, so yes. You kept her fed.

Tamlin comes back for the second he allows Rhysand to take Feyre.

You two spend the week she is there in bed, fucking like rabbits until he was content.

It's dead silence when Feyre comes back. He had expected Rhysand to keep her, not hold up his end of the bargain, and he also believed their relationship to be over.

Rhys was an idiot if he thought Tamlin couldn't scent the mating bond. He was willingly handing her over, and the High Lord had to aggressively whisper that to Rhys one night in his office to get it through the other male's thick skull.

It took Tamlin tugging the bond for you for Rhysand to understand.

The Lord of Night was almost disgusted by the love and mutual need you and Tamlin shared. He felt the two of you marked him in the scent of roses and petrichor.

The two of them sat Feyre down 3 days later, and she eagerly went to Night after Tamlin finally got her to understand that while he loves her, he cannot help her and love her the way Rhys will be able to.

That freed you two up, much to Ianthe's anger, to make up for lost time all over again.

He lives between your thighs. No one can change my mind, but Tamlin is a munch, and he cannot get enough of the taste of you.

When you find out Ianthe put her hands on him, on Rhysand, on Lucien you and Feyre become a force. Ianthe selling Feyre's sisters to Hybern had been enough for you and Tamlin to begin the process of banishing her. But much to Tamlin's delight, this made you feral.

Feyre crippled the priestess, and you dragged her by her bleach and tone blonde hair to the Weaver, smiling to Stryga.

"Feyre's apology present for stealing the ring, dear friend." Feyre held a breath, fingers squeezing your wrist as the Weaver moved, scenting Ianthe's fear, blood, and tears.

"And what is this?"

The two of you look at each other, mirrored cruel smiles before speaking in unison, "Dinner."

Tamlin, Lucien, and Rhysand watched from a distance as Feyre retreated to them, and you stayed to ensure the priestess did not somehow escape. "I can see why you love her," Rhysand started slowly. "She's-"

"Everything," Tamlin stated softly. "She is everything."

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#send asks #send anons #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #rhys acotar #eris vanserra #rhys x reader #rhys x you #rhys x y/n #rhys headcanons #Azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel headcanons #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian acotar #cassian headcanons #lucien x you #lucien x reader #lucien x y/n #lucien vanserra x you #lucien vandaddy #lucien vanserra headcanons #lucien acotar #eris x reader #eris x you

[azpizazz]

headcanons about azriel’s wings because I can’t sleep and they’re all I can think about

- first of all, he definitely has the largest wingspan, but he’s not cocky about it and let’s his brothers think that theirs are bigger

- they twitch when he’s irritated, or pissed off, or even sometimes when he’s turned on

- he’ll shoot one out in front of you so you don’t walk away from him or to prevent you from going any further somewhere else

- he uses them to shield you from things or other people and it has you standing on your tippy toes to try and look over them but they’re so damn huge that you can’t

- he’ll curl one around you to guide you closer to his side

- they flare slightly to show his dominance whenever another male looks at you a little too long for his liking and it always has you rolling your eyes at him

- he’s so needy and when you’re not paying attention to him, he’ll flap them, sending a gust of air in your direction and he smiles when you finally address him, even if it’s just to scold him for ruining your hair

- he drapes one across you while you sleep and it’s just like a second blanket

- you’re the first and only one besides healers he allows to ever touch his wings

- you’ll sit at the edge of the bathtub and clean them for him because “you get all the hard to reach places”

- and don’t even get me started on wingplay…

- the first time you gently stroke a particularly sensitive spot, he whimpers, yes whimpers

- you like to dance your fingertips along the membrane just to see his eyes closed and face scrunched up

- you’ll lean to kiss them because they’re just so beautiful and he’s coming undone within seconds

- there are plenty of times that you’ve made him finish by just playing with his wings

- anyway…

- the first time he comes to your small studio apartment, they bump into everything and you’re giggling as he tries to catch all the things that are falling off counters and shelves

- they slump when you’re upset with him or just sad in general because he hates seeing you like that

- similarly, they perk up whenever he sees you or hears your voice or laughter

- he’ll reach out and gently stroke one down your spine just to let you know he’s there

- he likes to cocoon you in them often, because he says it feels like it’s just you and him in the whole wide world

there’s a lot more but you get the gist

#azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel headcanons #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #bat boys #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel smut #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #sarah j. maas

[danikamariewrites]

Babying Azriel Headcanon

Azriel x reader

A/n: just some hc about showing Az some love. I’ve missed writing just for Azzy so enjoy this

Warnings: none

In public and in front of the IC Azriel is very affectionate with you

He does not shy away from PDA

But behind closed doors this male CLINGS to you

Like he is so in love with you it’s not even funny and you make sure Az knows he is loved

You basically pavloved him into needing your touch

You always throw our self at him when he comes him, jumping into his arms and telling him how happy you are to have him home and in your arms

He doesn’t move from the entry way unless he sees you running at him

Az does understand that you won’t always be home when he gets there and he does come home late some nights

He does get sad when you can’t hug him first thing though

Whenever he frowns it breaks your heart. You always have to fix that immediately

Az came home from Windhaven with his brothers one evening, just in time for dinner. Nyx had ran up to his dad and uncle with you trailing not far behind. You waited until the little boy greeted them for you to throw yourself at Az. He looked so worn down you considered not throwing yourself into his arms. Once Az saw you his face lit up! He stood ready, arms open and knees bent a little, ready to pick you up and hold you tight to his chest.

You launch yourself at him, jumping and wrapping your arms and legs around Azriel. “Azzy! I missed you!” You place kisses all over his face. He doesn’t care that Cassian and Rhys are watching. Azriel basks in your love and attention. Once you’re done he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your calming scent. Cass and Rhys’s jaws drop as you talk to him in a babying voice that you use when you’re alone. You just can’t help it!

Kisses kisses kisses all of the kisses for Az always!

Frowning? Kisses all over his face until he’s giddy

Before bed kisses or he cannot sleep

Sometimes you’ll jokingly forget, just rolling over and saying goodnight sweetly. “AH” Az yells, “where is my goodnight kiss little miss?” You giggle, “Huh? What are you talking about?” Az pulls you on top of him and he kisses you hard, never letting up until you hold him back

Morning kisses and goodbye kisses before he leaves for training/work. “Bye Azzy, I love you.” You say pecking his lips quickly. Az isn’t fully satisfied with your little peck, pulling you by your waist flush to his front he kisses you deeply

You’re the own who’s supposed to flustering him! When he lets go your cheeks are pink and you’re out of breath, waving goodbye as he sends you a wink while leaving

Packing him lunch if he’s out all day even if it’s just at the house of wind

You add a note with his food telling him how much you love him

Az swears his teeth are going to fall out if you keep baking him treats. But he would be so sad if you ever stopped baking or packing him lunches with little notes he would cry his eyes out

You make sure all of his weapons are clean and organized

I know for a fact Azriel likes things clean and organized and if he had a label maker he would use the shit out of it

When he comes home from long missions you don’t let him lift a finger! That is unacceptable, he’s just spent days Mother knows where, in an uncomfortable spot and is disgusting

You always have a bath ready for him along with a towel that you warmed by the fire

You wash his hair and massage his neck and shoulders. He washes himself though, he doesn’t want you doing all of the work

Most nights you insist on him laying on top of you because you like holding him close and running your fingers through his silky hair

When he’s sick Azriel really plays it up just to get more attention from you

You make him soup and tea, you even spoon feed him while he lays in bed

“I think I’m warm will you feel my forehead?” Az knows full well he’s burning up from his small fever he just wants to feel your cool hand on his skin. You make sure to touch his forehead and cup his cheeks

You tuck him in making sure he’s all warm and snuggly

When he’s feeling better he still acts sick for an extra day because he isn’t ready to leave the comfort of your care just yet

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel headcanons #azriel headcanon

[redbleedingrose]

Hello I looooooove your writing and I was wondering (If it's okay) if you can write a drabble/headcanons about our boy azzie

Like how would he act if he had a sweet and extremelyyyyy affectionate mate and someone who's shy but would call out som1's bs

I hope you have an AMAZING day 💗 u

Hiiii!!! I hope you are doing well! Thank you sm for the ask! Looks like this option on the poll won so I spent some time thinking about some headcanons for:

Azriel x Shy!Reader Headcanons

Azriel loves his shy little mate. It always bring a spark lighting up his darkness thinking about how he first met you. How you couldn't even make eye contact with him without nervously giggling. Az at his baseline is quiet, but he is confident. He knows that he is attractive, knows that he can take any male or lady to his bed. But from the moment he met you, its like his entire universe shifted to revolving around you. He spent the entire night trying to quietly converse with you and focus your attention on him. Any time you would shy away, avoiding his gaze, he would lean down to force eye contact, scarred hand tilting your chin up at him so his pretty hazel eyes could peer into yours. He was literally hooked, trying to pull your soft smiles. It took one night with you for him to want to bring you all the stars in the sky to your palm.

The male is constantly trying to woo you. Even after decades of being mated, Azriel continues to make an effort into your relationship, learning new things about you, picking up on your habits, and honestly... he just loves dating you. He loves taking you out on dates, sometimes out to Rita's for dancing, and sometimes on midnight flights to the valleys just outside of Velaris for a late picnic and stargazing. He would do literally anything just to see your eyes light up in joy from his effort and love.

He adores watching you get dressed up for him, smirking at your sharp stare at him to get out of the room so you can change, his eyes twinkling with mirth because you're still so modest after he has seen you countless times in your bare form.

In the mornings, he likes to silently sneak up to your shared bathroom door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed against his chest, quietly observing you do your morning skincare and makeup. "Can I get some of that too doll?" He mumurs, wrapping a thick arm around your waist, turning you towards his gently. You stare up at him confused, rubbing your lips together, pressing in the cooling balm, "the lip balm?" you ask, head tilted to the side while you hold up the container at him. He silently nods, mischief flickering when you hum okay. Then he pulls your chin up before kissing you deeply, pulling away all too soon, "thanks dovey," while swaggering away smacking his lips, all confident and proud of himself.

Az brings you a fresh bouquet flowers all the time. He is the kind of male to keep on the flowers so that he can ensure he gets you another bouquet as soon as the old one starts to droop. Male has gone as far as taking your old bouquets and getting them pressed into frames so that you can hang them in your shared home. The walls of your mini library that he had specifically built for the both of you is filled with frames of all of the bouquets he has bought for you. Eventually, when you have your baby girl, her nursery is decorated with all those framed bouquets. It works out perfectly as your library walls were running out of room. And omg he is the kind of male to pick your favorite out of the bouquet and tuck it behind your ear while caressing ur cheek, looking at you like you have hung the moon and all the stars in the sky.

Speaking of your hair, Az brushes your hair ALL THE TIME. He is an act of services male at his core, and he wants to pamper you. The first time he saw you brushing your hair, his eyes nearly popped out from how rough you were being. Male now refuses to let you brush your own hair. He will settle you into his lap, his shadows swirling around the both of you, tickling your ankles while he combs your hair ever so gently, removing the knots with the utmost care, peppering kisses along your neck, cheeks and shoulders, and right at that tender spot behind your ear. Basically any skin that he can expose, he will and will lay the softest kiss to your perfect skin.

Azriel being spymaster gives him many skills. Skills like patience, creativity, and precision. And he uses those skills on you all the time. Especially when it comes to painting your nails for you. As mentioned previously, the male is an acts of service KING. He takes extra care to make sure the edges of your nails are smooth and clean, the designs he creates for you are different in style and technique. He obviously lets his shadows pick a different color every week for you, and that will be the theme for the rest of the week, when it comes to the colors of the flowers he gets you, to the pretty dress he saw in the market that he bought for your date night, to the dinner he makes for you both that week. Ugh love this male so much.

OMG and he is going to get on his knees for you. Anytime, anwhere, he will drop to his knees to tie your untied shoelaces. He is concerned his precious girl will fall over and bruise your skin. Oh, and he loves to help you put your heels on, kissing your ankles before getting up. Male worships the ground you walk on, I cannot BREATHE.

Azzie also has your coffee and drink order memorized. And he will absolutely go up to the front and get it changed for you if you don't like it or if they made it wrong, hushing your quiet pleas for him to sit back down with a soft kiss to your nose. He is very kind about it, will wait until the rush calms down to take drink back up and will tip extra to make sure he isn’t stepping on any toes, but is firm that they messed up his girls drink, and that needs to be fixed. We love a strong confident dominant male.

Unfortunately, being spymaster, Azriel is a very busy male. All his free time is spent with you, or on you, but he does have to work from time to time. Not to worry though, his shadows like to keep you company, especially when their master is not too far; being in his office working on paper work or out with Cassian training. They all crave your attention, fighting over which one can bring you your drink and which ones can play with your hair. Every 15 minutes, they are rushing back to their master to report back on you and whine about how one shadow is stealing all your attention.

Children, those little shadows.

Speaking of Azriel's free time, watching you do your hobbies is HIS favorite hobby. Weather you are basking in the sun while reading, to watching the crinkle in your eyebrows furrow further while you write, to watching you purse your lips while you taste the tart in the lemon curd you are making for dessert. He could sit back and watch you for hours and feel completely at rest and at peace, shadows singing in the background and soul buzzing along to their song.

He will climb into your shared bed to do his paperwork next to you while you sleep, especially if it has been a while of him sitting in the office and he feels like he has hit a wall. He will often working single handedly because he wants to hold your hand all night long, feeling much more motivated to protect Velaris with you at his side. He has something worth working for, worth protecting.

Neither of you are big fans of PDA, but that does not mean Azriel will go without touching you. He wants to make sure everyone knows who yo belong to… and moreso, who he belongs to. Male loves for people to know he is TAKEN.

Cannot get enough of when you get a little protective over him, seeing as that male across Rita’s has been eyeing him throughout the entire night. So while you and him go up to the bar for more drinks, you squeeze his tight ass in view of that male, and everyone else, to see. Azriel is thoroughly amused, a thrill shivering through his wings as he smirks down at you while you avoid his gaze, chin up in defiance as a hot flash runs through you.

Don’t worry though, he is not afraid to wrap his thick arm around your neck and pull you into his side with a soft kiss to your temple, hazel eyes adoringly tracing your soft features. He also guides you with his hand resting at the small of your back through the crowd, and ugh does it get you heated.

Anyway... I am tired of writing but I probs have more to add to this headcanon later so part 2 maybe??

Check out more of my writing!

#azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel headcanons #azriel blurbs #azriel drabbles #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar drabbles #acotar headcanons #rose writes

[starseternl]

i. stardust; azriel.

synopsis : azriel x half-seraphim!reader. your first starfall with the inner circle, nerves dizzying you like wine. what's worse? watching your love for azriel go unrequited as he dances with anyone but you. but ... is it really unrequited?

warnings : mild swearing, insecure reader / comparing herself to elain, fast-paced emotions, rushed ending, unedited.

a/n : this is my first fic writing for acotar here so pleasee bare with me ( this is also unedited / not proof read, so i apologize for any mistakes ) <3 i hope i did azriel some justice :,) no huge warnings here, just fluff with a hint of angst in between. and absolutely no hate to elain !! she’s the loml tbh.

word count : 6,271

Seventy years.

That’s how long you’d known Rhysand’s family. How long you’d known Azriel.

Seventy years, and yet, this was your first Starfall with them. After all, you had felt too guilty, leaving your boss – Madja – lonely on such a beautiful occasion. The woman wasn’t one for extravagant parties, and often stayed in as the two of you cooked together, much like a mother and a daughter would. Sure, it wasn’t much . . . And it certainly didn’t feel any different from your typical weekends. Yet, the warmth of the moment always had you savoring it. Madja was hard on you, but it was undeniable, the maternal instinct she seemed to possess.

But no amount of beef stew or spiced tomato soup could ever amount to what you felt now.

You stood before Morrigan’s bedroom mirror, unsure of what to do with yourself. Was that even you, staring back? Your eyes were wide, lined with kohl and a strange, silver paste, almost hidden behind your curled lashes. Your lips, parted in a small gape, were the color of aged wine – shining. Dark.

Tempting.

You wanted to congratulate Mor on the work of art she had produced out of you – but before you could utter another word, your gaze fell to the dress.

And, oh, was it breathtaking. 

Your bodice cupped your chest like it was molded to you, skin-to-skin, the velvet softer than anything you’d ever had the pleasure of feeling. The deep cobalt blue shifted in the light, almost like molten lapis, placing perfect emphasis on your curves, catching the glow of faelights in just the right spots. You’d never worn anything sleeveless before; you’d always thought them to look boring. But looking down past the sweetheart neckline, to the thick ribbon wrapped around your waist, lacing up your back, ending in that long, perfect bow … Even you had to admit it was a work of art. 

You lifted the satin skirts, peering down, wondering if –

“Don’t do that!” Mor playfully hissed at your side, swatting your hands down and away from the delicate material. “You’ll wrinkle it … I spent good money on this dress, you know.”

But you didn’t have the heart to banter, now. Your mouth felt dry as you gravitated towards the mirror, fingertips grazing its surface. “This doesn’t feel real,” you admitted with an exhale, so quiet that your friend barely even caught it. 

Her gaze softened a fraction, swiftly standing at your back, fingers adjusting the material lacing you together. Honestly, you were thankful they were there; it felt like the only thing keeping you from crumbling. You had been longing for this for years after meeting the Inner Circle. But, now? Coming to their little Velaris party made you feel as if you were officially one of them. Their friend, their family. 

You almost trembled as you – gently, this time – swept your skirts off the floor, taking small steps towards the door, making great attempts not to trip over the blonde’s brand new heels, the ebony leather so fine it barely cut into your flesh. She stifled a laugh at your poor attempts, offering you her bare arm to steady yourself. You graciously accepted, sheepishly gripping your billowing skirts tighter in your free palm. Not that you could admit such a bold claim aloud, but it wasn’t the shoes that had you dizzy. You had worn ridiculous heels many times in your life; boots, stilettos . . . This shouldn’t have been an issue.

Instead, what shook you was the knowledge that he would see you. You, in your sapphire dress. You, clumsily dancing for the first time in years. You, always embarrassing yourself. Always the fool.

The shadowsinger, your muse. He was so graceful, so lovely. Untouchable. Everyone could see that he deserved someone of pure light. Someone soft, like a blanket of warmth. Something you could never be, you supposed. For all you were good at was healing flesh wounds. You never knew how to navigate a faerie’s heart, how to soothe the cracks and wounds. 

A muscle ticked in your jaw as the two of you pushed Mor’s bedroom door open, your expression only relaxing as your friend let you go once you’d reached the great, spiraling staircase. The sisters, on the other hand, filed out of a room to the left – each one striking. Nesta in death’s black, ink dripping down every pore. Feyre, in a familiar shade of starlight silver, practically glowing with joy as she bounced little Nyx in her arms. And Elain . . . 

You felt a twinge of jealousy upon seeing how stunning she looked tonight. Mauve sweeps of tule and silk hugged her hourglass figure like it was art, the draping sleeves like wisps of petal. Her skirt fell to the floor in great volumes – she looked a bit like a flower, herself. You suddenly felt that confidence, blazing and bright, dwindle down to nothing but a spark. A new reminder that you were like her shadow. Pretty, but never enough to be seen, not while Elain existed. You bit down on your cheek to keep yourself from potentially hurling, stepping to the side in a swift bow as the Archerons passed, teetering down the staircase as one. Feyre had ordered you not to do so, as you were ‘family.’ Even so, you could never suppress the urge. 

It was pitiful of you, you had to admit. Elain … She’d never done anything wrong. Perhaps it was merely nature to blame another on your shortcomings, but even when that sinking feeling dove deep beneath your skin, guilt plagued and ate at your heart. Again and again she’d bake sweet cakes and cookies for you – again and again she’d bring you flowers, bright smiles. All because she knew you were unsteady, afraid. Yet you couldn’t stop. Not when Azriel’s gentle smiles only seemed to bloom for her sunlight. 

Only when you heard hushed chatter and laughs did you spring back up, sucking in a breath. You peered over the edge, stomach churning as you watched the shadowsinger transfixed by the doe-eyed female. How could you join them, now, when you realized you had no one to talk to? Cassian and Nesta. Amren and Varian. Rhysand and Feyre. Azriel and Elain. Even Mor had found her place beside a newly bashful Emerie. You had been hoping that Gwyneth would join you – but the Nymph stayed in the Library, tending to books with Clotho. 

Ripping the handrail, dark nails scraping, you quietly made your down, inch by inch, silently, in hopes no one would see, and –

“Oh, you sure clean up nicely,” came Cassian’s whistle of approval. You groaned, stopping halfway to the floor to dramatically hang over the railing. 

“Did you really need to do that? I was trying to be discreet,” you huffed, hands on your thinned waist. You quickly finished your descent, ready to knock heads with the male, his chest puffed out in rather unnecessary pride.

And you would have, if the weight of a certain gaze tore at your focus. Your eyes slid to Azriel’s, and for once, he didn’t shy away. He only watched, those smooth, pretty lips parted in something resembling awe. Elain glanced between the two of you, and for a moment, you could have sworn excitement – anticipation – flash in her lovely brown eyes. 

You practically floated towards the Illyrian, drinking him in. That dark hair, clumsily styled into a dark pool of voluminous strands. The way his white blouse – a shade you rarely saw him in – was ever so slightly unbuttoned, revealing hints of his tattoos. But what really caught your eye was the velvet blazer of deepest blue. An article of clothing that perfectly matched your gown. 

You, painfully, let your eyes drift to the blonde fae, raising your brows, as if you say, you did this? Mor only grinned, looping her arm through Feyre’s ignoring your inquiry. 

But, in the meantime, Azriel hadn’t stopped watching you, from the moment he saw you take the first step towards the hall. He knew you’d be wearing cobalt tonight. He had specifically asked Mor, in fact, smitten and riddled with nerves. But what he didn’t anticipate was how it made him feel. It was the same blue that shone in his siphons, and his heart stirred, a strange sense of warmth rising to his head and chest. It was as if you were his. His to hold, his to touch, his to kiss. His shadows danced, a wisp curling around your neck and winding through your hair, like a necklace. He could feel them giggling like children.

Before he even had the chance to get ahold of the shadows, you were already laughing with them, a finger gently coming up to examine your newfound jewelry. 

The male stepped closer to you, rose dusting his cheeks. “They seem to be in a good mood.” He watched you play with them, the one laying on your collar bones shifting to wind itself up and around your forearm, like a serpent, loyal to its mistress. “They like you, I mean,” Azriel clarified as you peered up at him. 

“How cute …” you murmured in awe, feeling them pulse against your skin. You met his hazel eyes once again, unable to wipe the grin off your face. “They’re beautiful.”

Beautiful beautiful beautiful. He couldn’t help the small, careful upturning that graced his lips as he let a million thoughts wander through his head. You’re the one who’s beautiful, he wanted to respond – but for the sake of his nerves, and yours, he held his tongue. Instead, he hummed, “We match, you know.”

Your eyes widened, as if you had hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Ah … Right,” your eyes widened, pupils dilating further, “I swear, I didn’t plan this. It’s a coincidence. If I knew you were already wearing blue, I would have asked to change – I don’t mean to steal your thunder.”

Azriel barked an uncharacteristically joyful chuckle, throwing his head back for a moment, the blush dusting his cheeks only glowing a bit brighter. Something you failed to see, eyes stuck to the arch of his throat, the way the muscles moved, his tattoos coming to life. “No,” he gently countered once he’d come down from the clouds. “I think it looks nice. You – we – look nice. Blue suits you.”

And as your lips curled, Azriel thought his heart may have stopped. Had he done that? Him? A sense of pride sparked in his blood, his shadows flaring in reply, still ever so unresponsive to their master. You could feel the way they seemed to shy against you, the dense air they washed over your skin warming – you could’ve sworn it felt like a flush. 

You were so enchanted with the creatures, with the peace they brought you; the way it washed over your senses, so much so that you completely missed the velvet-smooth voice that filled your ears. It was an effort to look up from the shadows – after all, you were more than content to sit right there on the floor and play with them all evening, dress and all. But nothing else mattered when a gentle shiver spread through your body, a silken sensation blooming at your shoulder. Your eyes narrowed to the  – albeit, gloved – hand that rested on your skin. You didn’t need to see the scars beneath, to know who it was.

Azriel gazed down at you with eyes so full that something in your chest ached in response, drowning under the waves of thousands of words unsaid. You couldn’t read them, each syllable too muddled, too deep to reach – but you knew something was there, lurking beneath those amber irises. “Could you repeat that?” you finally murmured, clasing your hands before you. Your tone was sheepish, the very admission an embarrassment. 

“I asked if you would save me a dance,” he clarified. You could hear it, the slight tremor in his voice. He was a master of physical arts, and his body didn’t often betray him – only you knew Azriel well enough to gauge the nerves in his words. “I know you have a duty to dance with Rhys, and Cass is going to snag you, as he does to every pretty lady. But I think I’d regret it, if I didn’t get at least one with you.” 

How could you say no? How could you be sensible, think of the consequences, when that stare was so sweet? It was a look you could never refuse, not even when you knew accepting would break your doe-eyed friend’s heart. 

Yes; you saw how Elain looked at him, how her rosy lips parted when he walked into a room. She sat up straighter beside him, seemed to speak louder. Like a star hidden by the mountains, rising into the sky to be admired by all. Around Azriel, the girl bloomed. And every hushed compliment from the Shadowsinger was a seed planted along that pale skin, growing until she could one day love herself as much as everyone else seemed to love her. It was shameful, to live off another’s joy … But watching how smooth they were together, you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be loved by him. Selfish. You knew she loved him first, yet you craved him more than all else. You knew you had no right to want his touch, to crave him like air, but you did both. He was your air, yes – the kind that burned your lungs, coughing on stardust, too much to look at, blinding, suffocating –

“Yes.” 

The word came choked, pulling you from the waters of your mind. “Yes, of course,” you repeated again, softer this time. You were never a dancer, could never drift across the ballroom like shallow water. But with him, it felt different. Wings could sprout from your back – you could fly, when his spotlight was on you.

The male’s face seemed to relax with the acceptance, warmth spreading to his cheeks. You were in your own little world, a fragile bubble that you wanted to stay in forever … Until a louder, feminine voice put a pin in it. 

“Right, we get it, you want to tear each other’s clothes off,” Mor teased with a groan, red gown twisting as she faced the two of us, Emerie peeking out from behind her. “But I’m not missing Starfall because two insufferable idiots refuse to get a move-on. I’ve got things to do.” She winked, and with the click of her tongue, Rhysand nodded. Nodded – but you could see the smirk on his lips when his gaze fell on Azriel.

“As refreshing as this is,” he agreed, “we have a duty to make an appearance. Lest you want to be chastised by our people, I suggest we leave.” He had taken Nyx from the bundle in Feyre’s arms, bouncing the babe in his own large embrace. The boy was grasping at his fathers blue-black hair, pulling at the strands.

You brushed past the Illyrian to stroke Nyx’s head, cooing for the small child. Barely a toddler, and you could tell he’d grow to be as strong as – if not stranger than – his father. But it certainly brought no fear, often surrounded by the coddling of the adults around him. 

As a half-Seraphim, yourself, you were less on the … Territorial side. Your instincts were more like a soft duvet, contrary to Azriel and Cassian’s hammer-like tendencies. Thanks to this, the Night Court’s heir had grown quite fond of you – of course, not nearly as much as his mother and father, but you were a close third. You swept the black-haired boy into your arms, holding him at eye-level with you, his chubby fingers reaching for your pearls and jewels. “Ah-ah,” you tutted, a mock frown placed on your painted lips. “I know these are pretty, but your Auntie spent her hard earned money on these. You can touch when you’re older.” 

Nyx seemed to deflate with the rejection, and you almost felt guilty for the poor thing. His mother, donned in white, cupped his little face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his head. 

“Now, let’s not get pouty … You’ll perk right back up when you see the treats Elain made for the party,” the High Lady hummed. At the word “treats”, he seemed to glow once again, tiny wings flapping as Feyre took him back, bouncing him against her chest. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips, the scene painted perfection. You were glad to see your friend with such a loving family around her – she deserved it.

A cool breeze grazed your back and you strained your head to peek behind you, eyes drinking in a torso covered in black, white, and blue. “Let’s not keep Nyx waiting. He’ll grow impatient,” Azriel suggested, that quiet, smooth voice loud in your ears. You could feel his shadowed smirk, that silent humor. He reached a gloved hand out to you and your heart seemed to melt. Was he really asking to escort you? You slid your fingers between his, feeling the rough, charred skin mold to the tight fabric of the gloves. It was a familiar sensation, comforting. The nice thing about loving the Shadowsinger? You always knew. You knew it was him when he’d touch your arm, scarred fingertips all too easy to feel. You knew it was him when you saw shadows snake across the floor of every room, moments before you saw him. Mother, you even knew him down to that night-chilled mist and cedar scent. It blanketed you on drunken nights in which he walked you back to your room in Feyre’s estate, lingering even when you’d crawled into bed and fallen asleep like a rock. His hand tightened around yours, sliding his arm so it supported yours, linking your bodies together. Something about his shadows seemed more careful than before, like summer air. 

You supposed you wouldn’t mind if your hair got ruined if it meant Azriel got to fly you there. Mor could deal with it.

***

By the time the Illyrian set you on the pavement outside The Rainbow, you were already exhausted. Yes, you were a night owl – fitting for the court you stayed in – but the heavy jewels stuck to your arms, your neck, and the weighted material of your dress – it all had you wanting to sit down and doze off for a good few hours. You knew your feet would ache by the end of the evening. You could hear the booming music, the orchestra’s melody brighter than the stars, the cheers of Rhysand’s subjects as he led his mate and son down the stairs. You could almost picture it without seeing it then; the Lord and his Lady, glorious like the moon. 

You let the Spymaster set your hand on his, leading you down the steps, ebony wings never quite dragging as you followed him. You had wanted to thank him for the fly, an excuse to talk to him amongst the vast expanse of people –

But something else caught your eye.

The sky. 

Your lips parted in wonder, a sort of floating sensation spreading through your body. It was beautiful. You knew starfall wasn’t about the actual glowing dots in the sky, but the spirits, coming to visit in star-shaped forms. And you watched the large bodies descend from the pool of black, silently colliding with the streets of velaris, leaving the pavement sprinkled in glittery, illuminated substances. it painted the streets, the buildings – you felt like you were standing in a fantasy. things felt … peaceful. soft. 

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Cassian smirked from behind you, an arm slung around Nesta’s waist – much to her teasing dismay, as she mouthed a short “possessive baby,” to you. You nodded at the warlord, the corners of your mouth lifting … only for them to fall right back down when he added, “Yeah. They’re dying out every year. One day, they’ll be gone.” 

You gasped, brows dipping. Your stomach seemed to churn, your gaze on the spirits suddenly grew heavy, sorrowful. Your excitement died down to a sort of mourning. You knew you’d be alive another, what, five hundred years? More? Would they be gone by then? Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Nesta jab her mate in the stomach, scolding him for the sudden trainwreck of angst. 

You spent most of the party sitting around members of the court, sipping expensive wines and gazing up at the glass roof, coated in that glowing powder. You couldn’t keep your gaze off of it – not when Rhysand swept you into a waltz, his dancing skills smooth as you remembered from Under the Mountain. Elegant as the dark, night incarnate. He certainly lived up to the name, gliding across the marble floor with such ease that you almost slipped on your own two feet, practically being dragged around like a ragdoll. You excused yourself shortly, handing him off to his wife, who scowled when he seemed to pout, clearly enjoying torturing you, ever the brother-figure. You knew he’d be in it for a mouthful at home. It made you chuckle, even when Cassian took the chance to wrap his arm around yours, that boysterous demeanor louder with the consumption of so much alcohol. You could smell it on his breath, and see it in his sloppy dancing – and when he asked you to twirl him, the male practically playing limbo to try and fit under your raised arm. You sniggered, mocking his height – until those wings slapped you square in the face when he finally succeeded. You grumbled, excusing yourself to find a drink as his warm, hollering laughter followed you down and across the ballroom.

That left one dance owed.

Azriel.

It wasn’t that you weren’t looking forward to it. Quite the opposite, actually. Rather, it was that the shadowsinger was nowhere to be found. You knew he had the tendency to slip off into the security of his shadows during large gatherings … But what were you to do? It was nearly two in the morning, and things were coming to a close. Or, at least, the music was. It had grown softer, suitable for smalltalk and laughter, rather than dance and partying. 

Plus, Elain was missing, too, and for some strange reason, it made your skin itch. Was she with him? Had they snuck off alone, to admire the moonlight? You couldn’t blame them; she had looked lovely that evening. You admired her for it. You always had. She was there for you when others were not, an angel in disguise, fallen from the heavens. You hadn’t known the Mother was capable of creating a fae so perfect. Didn’t want to know. At least, not while it made you feel so … average. Good for nothing.

You gripped your arms, turning to gaze at your friends, huddled and chattering like a flock of birds. Radiant. Untouchable. Did you belong there, with them? Placed on a pedestal, to be admired and feared and loved? It had you wanting to hurl, a shiver making its way up your back. You swiftly jerked your head forward, heels clacking, feet aching as you slipped down a dark hall, relishing in the way the voices and music seemed to die down the further you walked. 

You reached a small archway, illuminated only by the bright moonlight, a small breeze leaking in through it. You stepped past the threshold, finding yourself on a familiar balcony – familiar not by memory, but by description. Feyre told you about it many times, about how she’d shared her first genuine moment with Rhysand there. You scoffed and shook your head, the irony lifting your mood. Leaning on your forearms, the railing cool on your skin, you let the wind ruffle – if not ruin – your hair, eyes fixated up. You’d miss it, when those little glowing shapes were nothing but a whisper of dust in the world. Despite being pissy at Cassian for soiling your spirits with the fact, you were also grateful, because it meant you could savor their presence just a tad bit more. 

“Feeling overwhelmed?” You instantly knew who that voice was. Without turning, you responded with a hum. “I needed a bit of quiet. You Illyrians can be insufferable.”

Azriel barked a laugh, the sound so genuine and rare that you felt your chest stir. He sounded like pure starlight, and you wanted to fall into it. “Maybe so, but I don’t see you leaving.”

“Because you fools would go batshit insane if I ever did.” I manage to roll my eyes, fighting back a love-struck smile. “What’ve you been doing all night? I thought you’d be more into the celebration. I know parties aren’t your thing … But I was told you adored Starfall.” Az considered, the material of his suit creasing. “Elain asked me to take her to The Rainbow’s gardens. We watched the spirits from there – better view.” 

Truth. You could tell by the way his voice softened, the corners of his eyes relaxed, his shadows hiding nothing. Your stomach dropped, as though you hadn’t seen it coming. Of course he was with Elain. When was he not? You pressed your lips together before replying, eyes dropped from the sky to your clasped fingers. “Mm. Had I known, I would’ve stayed outside … Cass and Rhys practically danced the soles of my feet off.”

You heard a deep, joyous rumble to your left. “Did Cassian step on your toes?”

I sighed dramatically, neck craning. “Obviously. And gave me one Hel of a nosebleed”

“I’m sure I could do better. I like to think I’m in control of my own body.”

You shook your head, lips twitching. “Finally offering me that dance you wanted?” I joked, lifting my skirts.

“You know I’m not one to break a promise,” came his reply, that dark smirk on the panes of his face. You giggled, turning to exit the balcony and make my way down to the ballroom. “Race you?”

Rather than complying like he usually would, the male caught hold of your wrist – gently, but hard enough that you halted. 

“Stay.”

Your heart couldn’t have thundered as loud as it did then. Heat rose to your cheeks and you turned your head to look at him – really look at him, for the first time in hours. And, gods, did you regret it. Flushed by the cold in the wind, hair disheveled, falling into his eyes … You were done for.

“Stay?” you parroted, head cocking to the side. “There’s no music up here.” Half truth; music leaked from below, but it was so quiet, our hushed voices could easily cover it. 

“I know. But if we go down there, we’ll be bombarded with those busybodies. I want it to be –” he shook his head, a glow rising to his cheeks. “Just … Stay.”

Your heart melted, shoulders slumping, the grip on your skits loosening as you faced him. He wanted you to be alone. Just the two of you. He may not have outright admitted it, but you could see it on his face, the hopeful shimmer in those hazel eyes, like honey. It was often like this, with you two; unbeknownst to your friends, your relationship wasn’t all teasing and joking. No – outside their gaze, in the shadows, the two of you oftentimes dwelled in silence together. You had trouble sleeping most nights, and came shuffling out of your room for milk and tea, a book clutched in your hands. And Azriel? His shadows simply never shut up. Sleep wasn’t much of an option for him. It became tradition, your nightly meet-ups on the roof of Feyre’s manor, laughing and indulging in Rhys’s good wine. It was the first time you’d seen the large man drunk, suddenly becoming needy and sensitive, like an oversized baby. 

You’d been staring at him a moment too long, eyes locked onto his parted lips, those flushed cheeks. Shaking your head, you finally turned your body, nearing him with a carefulness akin to approaching a wounded deer. “Okay,” you finally breathed. You knew you were a mess, so late into the evening. Tangled, frizzy hair, wrinkles on your dress. But little did you know, you’d never looked more beautiful to Azriel. 

Without another word, his hands were on you. They cupped your waist, guided your hands to his shoulders, with such grace that you swore he had experience. Maybe the Spymaster was a playboy, as strange as that was for a male of his kind. 

But all thought emptied from your head when he guided you by the hips so you were centimeters from him, face so close to his chest you could feel the warmth coming in waves. Could feel his shadows tenderly stroke your cheek, winding around your neck and shoulders like scarves. You couldn't even bring yourself to touch them, play with them – not while your hands were on him, feeling muscle shift beneath his skin and clothes as he swayed you, ease and relaxation working its way into his step. Even with no real music, no tempo, Rhysand and Cassian’s dances paled in comparison to this (not that Cassian’s had much appeal … That man was like an ostrich with a broken ankle on the dance floor). This, with those eyes gazing down at you with such peace. This, listening to his every breath, the way it seemed to catch when you moved to sling your arms around his neck, bringing you impossibly closer. This was what you loved most. 

You knew Azriel couldn’t go farther than touching a female’s hands without beating himself to a pulp – knew he ridiculed himself too much, as too afraid. Yet, something changed in him when he brought a hand previously on your waist to your head. It was by no means a harsh action, but rather something done with such softness that your heart fractured. He cupped the back of your head, fingers buried in the soft strands of your hair, and brought your head to his chest, letting you rest your cheek against the soft silk of his dress-shirt and blazer. You were no longer dancing – you were moving, like plants in the wind. But it was too intimate to be labeled a dance. You were simply holding one-another. Holding on to something you couldn’t quite place. 

“I’m … Glad I got one dance in tonight.” His voice seemed to vibrate across his body, sending waves down your cheek. You couldn’t see his face – not when yours was stuck to his chest, but you could hear something sweet in his tone. 

I huffed against the silks and cotton, inching back to get a good look at his expression. “You didn’t dance with anyone else? Not even Elain?”

He raised a dark brow, shadows swirling around his back. “Lucien would gut me if I dared to try.”

“Lucien isn’t here tonight.”

“Mm. Something Elain was awfully upset about. It wasn’t on my bucket-list, though.”

Surprise coursed through your veins, going right to your thundering heart. He didn’t want to dance with her? The female who was practically the belle of the ball? And she … Was waiting for Lucien. You couldn’t quite believe it, but you knew the shadowsinger wasn’t one for lies. For a spymaster, he was a terrible actor to anyone who knew him. He could lie to enemies, to his brothers when it counted. But otherwise, those cheeks would be dusted in pink, gaze practically oozing nerves. 

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from your throat. “Well, I am more than honored to be your first pick,” you teased, jabbing him between the ribs. 

But Azriel was unfazed. Where you had expected a laugh, there was only his heavy stare, his parting lips. “You’re the only one I ever want to dance with.”

Your heart seemed to stop its beating right there and then. Your throat, dry like sandpaper, seemed to keep so many thoughtless words as you could only stare up at him, quite aware of the heat rising to your face. You’re the only one I ever want to dance with. 

What the hell did that mean?

“I know I’m one hell of a dancer, but you need to give Rhys some credit, too,” you finally bit out, the breezy jest you’d intended to lead into your tone coming out strained, nervous. 

Azriel bit his lip, those shadows swirling to cup his face, his neck, peeking over the expanse of his wings. He was … Embarrassed. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, a scarred – and gloveless, you noted – hand reaching to cup your face – then stopping before it could reach the skin you so desperately needed him to touch. “I – you don't …” he huffed, raking those fingers through his hair. “You are much denser than Cassian tried to let on.”

Denser.

It hit you like an arrow to the chest, a zing of shock shaking you to your very core. Was this him confessing? You mindlessly blinked, makeup-covered lashes fluttering. The male you had been pining after for years wanted you. In retrospect, it made sense. He always sat by you, always did things for you, always protected you, first. But there was always an excuse to bypass the information like it was nothing. The way he once loved Mor, that he was simply a kind soul … Which was the truth, beneath the hard mask of the Night Court’s Spymaster. 

Then, Elain. But Elain wasn’t in the picture anymore, not when Azriel had just revealed her little affairs with Lucien. Not when he was admitting that this was all so, so real.

“Az –” you choked out, reaching for his hand, taking it in yours. His scars were warm, and despite how he refused to look you in the eye, his fingers clutched yours so desperately that you swore you felt tears well, burning you. “Are you trying to – do you … Fuck, this is hard.” You exhaled, a sudden wave of nerves hurling at you. You didn’t know what to say, what to do, where to look – and hell, he looked so pretty, with those rosy cheeks and messy hair. You opened your mouth to finally just say it, the words bounding up your throat, ready, and – 

Snap.

Your chest heaved, something missing for years, something hollow, suddenly full. Like you’d found an oasis in a desert, and you couldn’t waste even a single drop. You’d wondered since you were a child who your missing piece was. Who was tethered to your mind and body and heart, who was destined to be yours. 

“Mate,” his shallow, hoarse voice cut through the thick air like a prayer. 

All restraint snapped, all reason to be civil seemed to vanish as he cupped your face, thumbs running over your cheekbones. You could faintly see the outline of tears in the moonlight, coating his skin. Azriel, as you knew it, never cried. He never let himself cry, never even wallow in pity. Only that icy, silent rage. But seeing the emotion dripping down his face, all you wanted to do was hold him, tell him it was alright, tell him what you felt, that you loved him, to kiss him –

Just like that, his lips were on yours. 

Fleeting, soft – but, gods, it was perfect. You could feel the trembling of his movements as they parted, the taste of him finer than champagne, a cocktail of bittersweet anticipation and fervent affection. Your hands slipped from his, rising to loop around his neck as he fluttered against your lips, a butterfly’s kiss. A sigh, scarcely audible, escaped you, carrying with it the weight of endless nights spent yearning for that exact moment. Your fingers tangle in the inky strands of his hair, and anchor to reality, prayer that it wasn’t a dream. 

And even when you inched back for the breath that you were so bitter to need, the feeling of his touch lingered, his flavor coating your mouth, ever-present. You touched your forehead to his, and he didn’t mind that he needed to crane his neck forward to reach you. Not one bit – and especially not when you murmured into the night, meant only for his ears, a quiet “I love you.”

You felt it, the way he tensed in your embrace. Not in a defiant way, not something that spoke of regret for the moment you shared. But fear for something new – something unexplored. 

“I love you, too.”

You could have gone and cried yourself a whole new ocean right there and then, even at the price of Mor’s scolding as your makeup dripped down your cheeks. But was it your fault? You didn’t think so – not that it mattered. All you saw was him, even when your eyes went blurry and your heart seemed to burst.

Then – footsteps, a familiar male voice. “Do you think they’re fucking out there?”

“Cassian!” Nesta hissed, a slap ringing through the dark hall behind them. 

“He isn’t wrong …” Mor chirped, amusement echoing in each syllable. “Az looked like he was about to pass out when he saw her.”

Dear Mother. Of course your meddling friends wanted to stick their nose in your business. Indecent, perhaps, but you smiled all the same, rolling your eyes as the two of you listened to their ceaseless chatter.

“I think,” Azriel murmured, his wing curling around you, blocking out the moonlight and endless stars, “we should return before they start the next town gossip.”

“... Smart.”

#azriel 🕊️ #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel angst #azriel fluff #acotar x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar series #azriel headcanons #azriel imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar azriel #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #tbh idk what else to tag this #i <3 azriel sm #azriel is my wife real not fake !!

[nightsandrewrites]

Y/N: Did you tell Rhys not to let me go on my continent mission?!

Azriel: Sweetheart, I told him not to let you go on any mission.

Y/N: You basta-

Azriel: Without me.

Y/N: Oh

Cassian: That motherfucker don’t miss.

Cassian: In the heat of battle he don’t miss.

Cassian: In the heat of controversy he don’t miss.

#acotar #azriel #cassian #sjmaas #headcanon #azriel headcanons #azriel x reader

[fieldofdaisiies]

Just a Little Bit of Your Heart pt. II

ship: Azriel x Reader type: angst word count: 3,3k  warnings: curse words, mentions of a one night stand, unexpected pregnancy summary: an appointment with Madja reveals more about your condition; fic masterlist

It hurts.

Azriel has always wanted a mate. Azriel has always wanted to be in love. Azriel has always wanted a child. A family. To be a father. He has never spoken this wish out loud, has always kept it to himself, but deep inside his mind and heart the thought has always been there.

He never deemed himself worthy, yet still he has always wanted a family. A family with his mate. A home where their children would be joyfully running around.

But now things are different and he is sure he is not worthy of the life he created. With you. A female he spent a night with. Not his mate. Not his wife.

You are wonderful and brilliant… He had never planned on risking your life just for one night of pleasure and fun. He had never wanted what is happening here, right now. 

Under different circumstances – if you had been his mate or wife– you would have talked about children before trying to conceive. You would have talked about the potential risk of the wings.

But how it is now, you were given no choice. You had no choice. He ruined your life...risked it just for his pleasure.

You are becoming a mother. He is becoming a father. Sooner than expected. And not planned.

You are a female he has been intimate for only one time. He doesn’t even really know you, you don’t know him and yet he put a baby inside of you. A baby with wings. A baby that can risk your life.

His throat constricts so much it makes it hard for him to swallow, the back of his mouth is burning, his eyes feeling like salt has been sprinkled into them.

His scarred fingers curl tighter around the counter, his gaze solely focused on you. 

A small whimper parts your lips, Madja's hands are as carefully as possible pressing down on your belly. "The bleeding…since when has this been going on?" Her voice is soft, gentle. 

But Azriel is immediately on alert. He straightens up, leans forward, forehead lying in furrows as he looks between you and the healer. Panic courses through his veins, an icy shiver dancing down his spine.

You haven't told him about the bleeding, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily. He already worries too much, you did not want to add more on top of hos remorse and regrets. And the bleeding hasn’t been going on for too long. It has only started…

"A few days ago." You avert your gaze, not wanting to see her expression. You know you should have contacted a healer earlier, but you thought the bleeding would just go away again.

"How much is a few?" Madja raises her brow at you, a bit of reprimanding lacing in her voice and shimmering in her eyes.

"Three days, I think."

Majda purses her lips, her expression as if she is deep in thought. And she probably is. Her fingers stroke over your skin again, you cringe, and suck in a sharp inhale. The pain is quite vivid, and as much as you don't want to let it show, you can't hide it. 

Hands placed on your belly, she presses down gently and it feels like something shifts inside you, like the baby is turning and a low cry of pain leaves you.

Icy claws pierce into Azriel's heart at the sound, and he curls his fingers towards his palms. He knows it isn't Madja's intention to hurt you, but she is hurting you...his...his...the mother of his unborn child and that is enough for him to be on edge.

"It is what I thought…" She looses a long breath and finally lifts her head to meet your gaze. There are many emotions you can't place, except for one: worry.

"The tips of the talons are scratching against the inside of your womb, that is where the bleeding comes from. Your hips and womb are not made for a baby — an Illyrian baby— with wings. There is not enough room for the wings."

You know this. Azriel knows this. Everyone knows this. But hearing it...it hurts and makes concern spread out again. Throughout your entire being, and you shudder.

You turn your head a little, a sad smile on your lips when your gaze lands on the father of the unborn child.

Azriel, his expression pained, eyes dead, pushes off the counter and stalks over to you, and places his hand on your shoulder. It is just a small gesture, but it calms your rapidly beating heart, and makes the tears that started to build up in your eyes disappear. 

"But there is a chance for…" Azriel's voice is hoarse. He can't finish the sentence. 

"There is a chance both the baby and…your—Y/N will survive. We only need to get the babe out quite a few weeks earlier, and with a C-section. And that quite a few weeks earlier. Meaning in the next few weeks."

That is so early. Too early. But you trust Madja.

And so, you find yourself nodding, accepting everything if it means you and especially the little baby growing inside of you will survive.

Turning your head, you find Azriel looking at you, expression pained and worried. But you nod slowly, a smile appearing on your lips. "It will be fine," you whisper.

He does not react, only holds your gaze and that for a long moment. The shadows dance around him, stretching out, curling and swirling, brushing over your belly in calming, soothing motions.

It is almost like they can sense the life growing inside of you, and they probably can, somehow communicating with the little babe. Comforting it. It feels like they are whispering, 'It will be alright, and we will get to know you, little faerie. We took care of your father, and we will take care of you.'

Azriel's grip on your shoulder tightens, his fingers pressing into your skin as if he needs something to ground him, an anchor. The weight of the news hangs heavy in the room, there is an undercurrent of tension, of uncertainty that courses through the both of you. Azriel opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but the words catch in his throat.

Madja steps forward, her lips pursed while she regards the two of you for a moment. But when she speaks her voice is unwavering and soothing. "Y/N, Azriel, I need you to understand that this will not be easy, nothing of this pregnancy will be. The surgery will be dangerous. But we can do this. You can do this. After all, you have each other. And Y/N, you are never alone in this."

You draw in a deep inhale and turn to look at Azriel again. 

He nods, his jaw clenched and turns his attention back to you, his eyes showing fear but also a little glimmer of hope. "You will be fine. We…" Azriel swallows thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "We will be a family."

You don't know if he is just saying this to comfort you, or if he really means it, but tears start to burn behind your eyes at the mention of you three being an actual family. The thought is too beautiful. 

You smile through the pain, your love for the little baby coursing through every fibre of your being. And not only for the baby… 

"I know, Az. We can do this."

Azriel's hand moves from your shoulder to gently cradle your cheek. "We'll get through this." 

It feels lightning zaps between you, your eyes staying locked. You look deep into each others eyes, lost in the moment of this intense contact between your eyes. And your souls. Your chests warm from the inside out and something behind to glow deep inside of you.

His callused thumb brushes over your cheek and then Azriel closes his eyes. He turns his head a little, and so do you, now looking back at the healer. 

Madja gives a small nod of approval. "Exactly. I'll start making preparations for the surgery. And we will talk again in a few days. If anything comes up, you have to tell me immediately. In the mean time I will give you some herbs and potions for the baby and for you, also something that will help with the bleeding. I tried to push in the wing a little, and it should be fine for now."

You exchange a look with Azriel. "Here." He offers you his hand for support as you climb down the healer's bed. You accept, carefully curling your cold fingers around his and—

"Your hands..."

Your didn't want to be straightforward, but the emotions and hormones get the best of you and often make you talk before thinking.

Silence stretches our for a moment, and it almost seems like he wants to pull his hand back, but you won't let him. "You can tell me later." Your thumb strokes over the back of his hand. "We have time."

The cool evening air greets you when you step outside the High Lord and Lady's estate where Madja looked over you. Azriel insisted on taking you home, and of course you agreed.

"Thank you," you say after a moment of walking, still holding onto his hand. It feels so good, so right. 

Azriel is about to answer you, but gets no chance to do so. 

Suddenly, an unexpected fae male collides with you, jostling you for a moment. He had probably rushed out of a shop and not seen you. The impact sent a shockwave through your body, and for a fleeting moment the world seems to spin. He hit you harder than expected, but he apologises immediately. Yet, Azriel has none of it. Azriel, with his graceful wings tucked against his back, stands tall, glowering at the male, holding him by his arm. 

His anger and power stretch out like a dark cloud, the cobalt stones on his armour glowing vividly. 

"Careful!" Azriel growls, a protective arm wrapped around you to shield you from the fae male. "Don't you see she is pregnant." His wings stretched out slightly, a dark, yet comforting shadow.

You slide your hand over Azriel's and look up at him. "Azriel," you say in a soothing tone. "He probably didn't notice."

"He still should be more careful." Azriel's arm lowers a little, fingers spread wide to cover a big part of your round belly. The touch is simultaneously tender and protective.

The fae male once again stammers an apology and quickly retreats from the scene, his eyes filled with regret as he rushes away.

Azriel's protective stance softens, but he keeps his arm around you. His fingers, resting on your belly, tracing comforting circles as he acknowledges, "He could have hurt you and the baby."

"It is alright," you whisper. "I am alright and so is the little babe."

He nods slowly, almost like he does not believe you, but you set out again. "Come on, lets go home it is getting cold out here."

His protective side is wonderful and you love it, but you don't want him to worry too much. You are fine, you've mentioned so many weeks, months without him knowing about the baby, managed your every day life without him. It is good having him now, but you can also still protect yourself. 

You head home, Azriel not once removing his arm from around you, only when you step into your flat. The place where a short time ago you told him about everything. 

"You want to stay for a little?" you offer, and Azriel accepts, nodding but not saying a word. He closes the door behind you, and you sit down on the couch, soon joined by the shadowy male. 

"Somehow I imagined this all in a very different way. With a different outcome."

A cold chuckle parts Azriel's lips and he crosses his hands behind his neck before lowering them again to wipe his hands down his thighs. "Me too."

You give him a side-long look. "Just phenomenal sex and then never seeing you again."

"Is it so bad to see me again?" Azriel turns to you, his brow raised slightly. There is a sparkle in his eyes, and you know it comes from the mention of the phenomenal sex. Males…

"I would have preferred different circumstances," you answer honestly and move your hand over his. "But everything happens for a reason, so it is alright for me. I am alright with how things have turned out. And no, seeing you again is not at all bad. Quite the opposite actually."

He regards you for a long moment, not saying a word. There is still a glow in his eyes, but it is dimmed now, his whole posture slouching a little. He looses a long breath and stretches his legs. 

"I feel like I destroyed your whole life." His chin falls to his chest, hands one again crossed behind his neck. 

You immediately move close, your hand lifting and curling around his biceps. "Don't ever say that. Don't ever say something like that."

"But it is true!" He lifts his head and with eyes wide open looks at you. "The babe has wings because of me. Because I—"

"I wanted to sleep with you that night as well, knowing you have wings. I did not even think it would be an option to get pregnant that night. We both were sure we took the tonic and yet it happened. Receiving for fae is so difficult and still it happened. Azriel, everything happens for a reason and there is no blame on you."

You lift your hand and brush your finger tips over his face. "I gave you my consent that night. I wanted you in the same way you wanted me. I wanted to sleep with you, and I did not for one second think about the consequences — the possibility of becoming pregnant. Neither did you. The blame is not solely on you and will never be. For making a baby it always needs two people. I wanted fun that night. Pleasure, sex for no reason other than enjoying myself. And you wanted the same, we are both not innocent in this."

Your thumb catches a stray tear. Azriel turns his body to you, eyes not once leaving yours. He swallows thickly.

"You remember what I told you that night when we slept together?"

The corner of your mouth curls. "All the filthy things you whispered into my ear? Or when you told me to scream your name for everyone to hear?"  

You raise your brow at the shadowsinger and give his hand a gentle squeeze. A smile blooms on your face, some lightness filling the gloomy atmosphere.

And it even makes Azriel chuckle a little, his eyes flashing as if he is remembering exactly what he said to you. And you do too, and a hot rush fills your entire being. But you bite down on your lower lip, and focus on what he wanted to tell you. 

Azriel is smiling slightly, colour blooming high on his defined cheeks and he hums. "Apart from the filthy things."

His hand is holding yours and he meets your gaze. It almost feels like he can look right into your soul – like something connects your souls. Not the baby, something else... 

"You told me that I am the most beautiful female you've ever seen, if I remember correctly."

Now, he is leaning in. "You do remember correctly. And nothing has changed about that."

Something has shifted, the tension and the desire from that night is back. The room feels warmer all of a sudden, him and his presence the only things on your mind. Almost fully on its own accord, your body leans into him. 

Azriel's lips brush yours, his other hand coming up to cradle your face. "I still think so and it has nothing to do with the baby. It is you, and back then was also you. I saw you and wanted you."

He kisses you gently. "I wanted you like I’ve never wanted anything before. I've never felt like that before, and I am not just saying this right now. I mean it."

The next kiss is a little deeper, more passionate. His tongue sweeps over your lips, parting them and you allow him the entrance, lips melding. You lose yourself in him and the soft groans escaping him, accompanied by your sighs. 

Azriel lets one hand slider under your shirt, his warm, callused palm placed on your bare skin. "May I?" he asks and you nod, although you don't even really know what he is asking for. 

Azriel gets up, and down onto his knees in front of you. 

He is crouched down in front you and the couch, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and excitement as they meet yours. The only sound in the dimly lit room is the gentle rustling of Azriel's wings as he tucks them in, and for a moment you find yourself dreaming about a time where he teaches your child how to fly. 

With tenderness visible in every line of his being, he reaches out and places his hands on your pregnant belly. The love in his touch is palpable, his fingers tracing the gentle curves of your bump as if he can feel the heartbeat of the little babe inside. Wonder and joy fills his eyes, and a few tears slip out of them. 

The shadowsinegr leans in closer, his lips pressing a soft kiss onto your belly. You can feel the warmth of his breath and it sends a shiver of happiness down your spine. His love for the little babe reaches you and your own tears roll down your cheeks. "Our baby," he whispers, voice quivering.

Your heart swells, and happiness over the life growing inside of you outrules the worry and the fear about it having wings. 

You can't help but smile, your hand moving to rest atop his. 

The room falls quite and Azriel presses his lips against your belly once again. Then he looks back up at you. As you gaze into his eyes, you know that, with him by your side, you can face whatever is about to come. And you will have a future together. 

When he sits back down on the couch, Azriel helps you bring your clothes back in place and leans in again. 

"We can do this," he whispers against your lips. "We will do this. We will be a family. The kind of family our little boy deserves."

His words are so lovely, so wonderful, they make your heart warm from the inside out, and yet you pull back with a giggle, and tears glistening in your eyes. "Our little boy? How do you know it will be a boy?"

Azriel smiles, both his hands now cradling your face. He looks at you like you truly are the most beautiful female in the entire world, his eyes full of love and hope. "I have a feeling." 

He leans his forehead against yours, stroking your skin gently. 

"And yes, yes, we will be a family. A wonderful one." Your eyes close, and you revel in the feel of his hands on your face, his closeness, his presence. You blow out a breath and shift a little, wanting to snuggle against him, but—

A scream parts your lips, and you can feel liquid. Everywhere. Wetting the couch beneath you and running down your legs. Your hands fold over your belly and you groan loudly. And the liquid is not the one of your water breaking…it is a deep red. 

The last thing you hear before the blood rushing in your ears gets too loud is Azriel saying — or rather shouting, "I'll get Madja!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ tags for this series: @amysangel @bookishbroadwaybish @theofficialmadman tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel headcanons #azriel acotar #azriel x you #acotar #acosf

[prythianpages]

Witch! Reader x Azriel | headcanons

Merry Christmas Eve and Happy Holidays! Here are just some headcanons of witch reader and Az🥰 It's my first time making one of these.

this is based off of my dandelion series. you can find the masterlist for it [here]

warnings: fluff, implied smut

Azriel shows up to your apartment to take you out on your first date and he's extremely nervous because he never thought he would get this far and he doesn't want to mess up.

You find it entirely endearing because you can sense that he's not the type to be nervous, even more so when you notice his hand is slightly sweaty in yours. You don't mind at all.

Azriel spends every night at your place and realizes he no longer needs your sleep potion. He only needs you in his arms.

The only time he doesn't stay over is when he's out on a mission.

He slowly starts to leave things here and there until he's completely moved in.

Your cat, which is named Binx hocus pocus referencelol, is excited to have a another living being in your home besides the big spider that lives in the corner of your sitting room that you were too nice to rehome when you first spotted it.

Az is at first startled by it but then you're telling him the spider's name is Pearl and the way you speak of it with such affection makes him smile and he accepts it wholeheartedly, even though he finds it slightly creepy, because he loves you

Binx loves Azriel and his shadows. A little bit too much because he initially mistakes the dark tendrils as a toy and accidentally scratches your mate's back in the process of chasing them.

It's all okay because it's nothing a little calendula and chamomile can't help fix. It also gives for the perfect excuse to have the feel of his mate's hands brushing and rubbing against his back

Despite your deep attraction for one another, you decide to wait to be intimate with one another until you're ready to accept the bond.

Even though Azriel makes it really hard for you when he takes you training with him and all you can do is watch as his sweat makes his bare chest glisten deliciously while he duels with Cassian.

He tries to teach you some self defense moves but you're often too distracted to listen, which makes Nesta laugh.

As the two of you get to know one another more, you find yourself falling more and more in love with Azriel.

He's sitting on your couch, sharpening his knives and you're seated on the floor in front of your coffee table immersed into your spell book.

Your hand glows as you beckon your magic to find a particular spell and as your eyes take in the words on the book, you find yourself turning to Azriel with a smile.

"I'm ready," you tell him and let out a squeal as he drops what he's doing to pull you into his arms and kiss you. He's too engrossed in the way your lips feel against his to notice the way you use your magic to bookmark the page you were on before closing it shut.

Azriel doesn't care what you make for him but you do. You want it to be special and when you suggest a midnight picnic in that field of dandelions on the night of a full moon which is strangely specific but he's too happy to question it, he grants you your wish

"Wait," you tell him before he's about to take a bite of the food you made just for him. "I have something for you."

You're holding out a gemstone to him. It's a rich tapestry of green that dances with life, releasing a radiance of emerald enchantment. It reminds him of the green glow of your magic.

but it's not just an emerald. It's a talisman. It's your heart and when you tell him, you can't help but giggle at the mix of emotions expressed on his face.

you explain to him that it's not your literal heart but it may as well be because that emerald is tethered to your heart and if he accepts it, your heart will be bound to him forever and some of your magic may transfer over to him.

A witch's heart is a precious and powerful thing. Azriel knows this because he's heard Amren mention it once.

Some men have died seeking for it, some men have even gone to war for it and you've heard the horrors of your fellow sisters losing their magic and in the worst cases dying because they were tricked into giving their hearts to undeserving men.

But you trust Azriel.

The mating bond that will bind you together was more than enough for him but there you are, willing to give your heart wholeheartedly to him and he accepts it, promising to keep it safe.

He only takes a couple of bites before he's prancing on you and you're protesting--"Hey! I spent all morning make that--oh!"

your protest dies at your throat and a moan slips out as you feel his heated touch on your skin and lips against your neck.

"I promise I'll make up for it," he breathes against your neck and he does.

He makes love to you in that field of dandelions under the full moon, binding the spell that tethers your heart to him and claiming you as his and only his.

Accepting the mating bond send you two into a frenzy, where you are overcome with an insatiable thirst for one another. Let's just say your apothecary shops remains closed for the following week and the inner circle knows to keep their distance (:

Azriel keeps the emerald you gave him in the chest pocket of his leathers because he wants to have you with him at all times.

When he's away on a mission and has to spend the night away from you, he'll pull it out. It glows under his touch, humming with your magic that tells him that you're thinking of him just as much as he's thinking of you.

Your first outing as a mated couple with the inner circle is at Rita's. Azriel doesn't want to go but you're so excited to spend time with Feyre and the others and he can't say no to you. you can read about that here

On your first anniversary, he brings you a bouquet of dandelions from the meadow and makes it a point to gift you one every year.

He happily joins you on your walks with natures, smiling as he listens to you go on and on about the beauty of it all. But he thinks the true beauty is you.

Even when your eyes darken as you call upon your magic, leaving no trace of white or color. it scares the crap out of Cas and Elain but Az is just always mesmerized by you and he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on sometimes.

When you're upset or frustrated, usually because you're stressed over a spell or a letter from one of the witch covens, Azriel is there to make your day better. "Oh, my sweet little wildflower." He kisses your worries away.

You do the same for him when he comes back from a hard mission and the exhaustion of being the Night Court's spymaster catches up to him, taking a toll on him.

His tense body always relaxes at your touch and when he asks if you could give him anything to help with his body aches, you mindlessly point to one of the vials on your kitchen counter.

You don't notice when he picks up the wrong one and when you finally do and realize that he accidentally took a drink from the aphrodisiac Nesta had requested from you, it's already too late.

Needless to say, it's probably the best mistake you've ever made (;

#azriel headcanons #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x witch!reader #azriel imagines #azriel fluff #az!dandelions

[thisblogisaboutabook]

******Mad at Azriel headcanons******

Reader is Azriel’s pregnant mate that he committed an (almost) unforgivable act of betrayal against - if only he knew what the act was.

- This male. The Spymaster of the Night Court, the most observant male in Prythian, cannot figure out why his mate is upset with him.

- He betrayed you. Committing a completely unforgivable act.

- “Baby?” He stalks up behind you, carefully wrapping his arms around your waist, peppering your neck with soft kisses.

- A little kick nudges his hand away from your perfectly rounded belly.

- Not you too little one… Az thinks to himself.

- You huff. “I’m in the middle of something, Az.”

- You can’t see his face behind you but you know those brows are furrowed, trying to click the pieces together.

- Which makes you roll your eyes further back into your head.

- “Is there anything I can help with?”

- Oh no, there it is, he thinks to himself. The scoff. “I don’t need your help. Thanks.” He’s in deep shit.

- He stalks away. Knowing better than to sit idly, he begins tidying up around your home. Completely puzzled.

- His shadows swirl in agitation as if saying, “how have you not figured this out??”

- They’re definitely on your side

- A knock on the front door sounds before the door barges open and a boisterous “Honey!!! I’m here!!” fills the room.

- Mor enters holding a giant box of pastries… from your favorite bakery.

- “Shit.” He mouths as Mor gives him a taunting smirk.

- His shadows swirl in exasperation as if saying, “we told you, you were forgetting something!”

- “Mor!!!!” You shout. Running (waddling, but Az would never say that out loud) into her arms.

- Once Mor leaves, Azriel spends the rest of the evening begging every square inch of your body for forgiveness.

- He of course spends extra time kissing your belly, he’d never intentionally deprive his mate or their tiny little love of the sugar they were craving.

- When you wake up the next morning a fresh box of the pastries sits on your night stand along with a copy of the newest Sellyn Drake novel that you’d been dying to get your hands on.

- You guess you can forgive him… this time. 🥰

———————

I wrote this very quickly so I apologize for any potential typos! I have been hard at work on the next installments of “Cowboy Like Me” and “Ballad of the High Lady of Spring” and wanted to give you all something in the meantime!

Btw, this can be read as a headcanon companion to Ivy (Covered in You) and Solstice Tree Farm ❄️

#azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel headcanons #pregnant #pregnant mate #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #Azriel x reader headcanons #azriel x pregnant mate #acotar headcanon #morrigan #shadowsinger x reader

[angelshadowsinger]

oh my fucking god your work is incredible! holy literal shit balls i have never felt that entranced by a fanfiction until reading yours. thank u thank u thank u your azriel is PERFECT.

also i’m totally gonna need your thoughts on azriel sharing with his shadows 👀

re: ummmmmmm call me parmesan bc u got me CHEESIN!?!?!! that is literally sO sweet of you to say, i am touched 🥺 as a fic author you always worry if you’re making the character OOC and, it just makes me so happy to hear your praise!! thank you so much anon~ ♥︎ This HC is a bit more than what you’ve asked for, but it does includes it, so pls enjoy!

Azriel’s Shadows Around his Mate Headcanons

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

In my eyes, Azriel’s shadows are a part of him. There hasn’t been much insight that Maas has given us with shadowsingers and their capabilities in general, but this is what I choose to believe~

Since Azriel’s shadows were perhaps the first of his powers, and the first entity to treat him with some kindness/obedience, I think he would be very in tune with them and he himself would consider them a part of him. He has had over 500 years to develop his relationship with them and therefore, I believe once he found his mate, his shadows would be just as captivated with her as he himself.

Obviously, Azriel is a total simp for his girl (but that’s another hc in its own), so that means his shadows are too. Honestly, it could be viewed as annoying how often at least a few of his shadows are constantly at your side. He’s used to having them totally loyal to him, so now that he has to share them with you… well, it’s not really actually that cumbersome, because he knows that even when you two are apart, he’ll be sure to know if you need him/his help. Though he has a couple less to send out on his spymaster business, technically, the ones with you are acting as his spies anyway. Just, with a far more interesting and important subject.

His shadows do a variety of things for you, making your everyday life easier and more pleasant. Just as their master, the shadows like to give you princess treatment.

For example, they go out of their way to help you with mundane things. If you’re making dinner and a tomato rolls off the cutting board, they’re pushing it back to you. When you’re putting on a dress, they’re helping you with the zip and clasp. If you’re writing something and your pen runs out of ink, somehow they’ve procured a new one that matches your exact preferences.

Both Az and his shadows notice the small things. They take notes of your likes and dislikes, what makes you giggle, cry, or provides you comfort.

At times when he’s away for a long while, and you’re missing him, they will deliver small gifts to you. A couple flowers tied with twine, native to the strange lands he’s currently working in. A special spice he knows you love to use in the foods you share with him. An especially-delicious pastry made with your favorite fruit/flavor. Though the shadows themselves do not find you gifts, they are happy to deliver whatever Az requests they send.

They also will take anything you wish to send him. Whether he’s in another country, or simply training at the House of Wind with his brothers, his shadows will deliver your every gift. Most of the time it’s little sweets or a lunch you’ve packed. Sometimes when you’re feeling cheekier, a receipt from the lingerie store informing him of your latest purchase. If you’re really feeling brazen, sometimes the panties themselves. His shadows are perhaps happiest to carry those items, either to get into contact with them or to see their master’s red cheeks as he shoves them out of his brothers’ view.

His shadows are your caretaker when he is not with you. When you’ve fallen asleep staying up for your mate’s return from yet another mission, his shadows will tuck you under your favorite blanket, taking off your reading glasses and ensuring your spot in the open book on your lap is not lost. Az nearly melts when he comes back to the sight, you dead asleep on the couch in front of the blazing hearth, his shadows perched dutifully there, guarding you.

However, they grow attached to you and even when he is with you, they will not leave you alone unless he commands them.

Azriel likes to take full advantage of his time alone with you. There is nothing he finds more comfort and pleasure in than being in your embrace. Sometimes that’s hard to do, though, when his shadows steal away your attention, or beat him to helping you with the zip of your dress.

It’s a very endearing sight to see him get jealous of his own shadows. He’d have a scowl on his face as he glared at them, silently ordering them to leave your side so he could have you all to himself. The shadows would melt onto the floor, gloomy in a way, whisper once more around your ankle before they go off to fulfill their master’s instruction.

Most of the time, you manage to guilt your mate into letting a few of them come back. And as soon as he calls them, they appear and shoot right for you. Az rolls his eyes but of course he understands. How could they not fall in love with you?

Azriel is actually very good with sharing. This usually applies to you when his shadows are involved, though sometimes he just needs to be alone with you. Whether it’s to have his way with you or just to snuggle up and bask in his mate’s presence. When he needs time like that, he will have his shadows guard your quarters and they will do so without question— fiercely protecting the only two beings they care for.

~spicy hc’s begin ;)~

Most of the time, Azriel will take the lead in pleasuring you— as he should, as your mate— but he’s likely to let his shadows watch or join his efforts if they play a supporting role.

For example, his favorite thing is to be between your legs, feasting on your sweet cunt and making sure you know you are his, while his shadows hold you down so you can’t move an inch. This way, you have to take the pleasure in the exact way he desires, unable to greedily chase your high or buck your hips or push him away.

Usually he plays with you for a while like this, teasing you and edging you a handful of times before he’s ruthless, unstopping even after you’ve come. He does cease his ravishing after you’ve come again, only to ensure he doesn’t overstimulate you before he’s had a chance to fuck you like you both want.

His shadows are happy to shackle you and render you helpless to his onslaught of pleasure; they love hearing your wanton cries and will dry away any tears of pleasure that escape with a cool, ghostly caress.

Speaking of their caress, one of his favorite uses for them is to soothe your skin when he’s done marking it up. Meaning, after every spank or particularly hard bite, the shadows will rove over the irritated flesh, kissing you with their cooling tendrils.

Since the shadows are slightly cold, sending them to curl around your nipples while he fucks you from behind is also another favorite. The temperature-play heightens everything— especially when they move down your curves to tease at your clit or your ass, depending on your preference…

Sometimes he lets them fuck you as part of your foreplay— usually while you’re sucking his cock. He just loves the surprise that flickers in your eyes when you’re choking on the length of him deep in your throat, how your lashes flutter when that familiar cool touch tickles your inner thighs and pushes your wet panties aside, how your moan feels vibrating around him when they thrust inside of you. He savors how your rhythm gets thrown, how you struggle to continue when his shadows are running over every sensitive crevice of your most intimate parts.

On rarer occasions, Azriel will let the shadows have their way with you. He’d sit back in a comfortable, wing-friendly armchair, darkened hazel eyes drinking in every movement before him— you with your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, the darkness holding your legs spread and fondling every inch of you— cupping your tender breasts, tweaking those pert, hard nipples… stroking your face, your hair, your hips and thighs… flowing over your puffy clit, slipping between your dripping folds and even wandering inside of you, perhaps just as deep as Azriel’s cock could reach. He would jerk his leaking shaft at the sight before him, lip held prisoner in his feral snarl. He wouldn’t be able to last very long, the sight before him too much for him to keep his composure.

When you’re both spent and panting for breath, the shadows will run up and down your moistened back, taking away the heat that lingers there and helping to lull you to sleep.

Only when you’re unconscious do they return to Azriel, curling around his shoulders in thanks. They know they are lucky to be the sole creature/presence with which he shares his mate, and any time spent with you is valued payment for the many services they provide their master with.

#anon love #anons make angel blush (˘◡˘) #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader #acotar x you #acotar x reader #azriel smut #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel headcanons #azriel hcs #angelshadowsinger #my hcs #my work

[princess-tulip-writes]

azriel’s habits while doing it

a/n: this was requested to me so long ago, and I feel horrible for taking so long but alas, here it finally is. I plan on making this a series with the bat boys and maybe the vanserra bros too.

I think azriel is a switch; dom leaning.

he’s mainly a soft dom but alternates to a hard dom sometimes too. he can be submissive, but only if you ask or he needs to be taken extra care of.

azriel tends to baby you during sex; calling you pretty nick names, caressing your skin, kissing you all over, making sure you’re feeling just as good as he is.

speaking of nicknames, he has the best ones for you that make your pussy clench just from him calling you them.

princess, angel, bunny, and sweet girl are the most common, but they never really stop. he always finds new titles to make you flustered and wet.

pussy eating is a daily routine for him. never once has he sinked his cock in you without getting a taste first, making you cum at least once beforehand.

he just loves the fucking taste of you so much, the days that he doesn’t fit eating you out in his busy schedule are always bad ones. it’s comical to you, but if you giggle about it, you’re in trouble.

punishments are never mild with azriel. spanking sessions are long and harsh, your ass is definitely a shade of purple and blood red once he’s finished.

he’ll carve his initials in you if you need reminding of who’s pet you are too. but that’s only if you’d gone too far to make him jealous.

overestim and edging are big ones for him when you’ve done something minor.

he’s the type to eat you out, but stop as soon as your right on the edge then go about his day. he won’t fuck you before bed that night either to teach you a lesson.

with overstimulation, he’d keep lapping at your clit until your sobbing for him to stop, then fuck you for hours until you’re both soaked in squirt.

making you a squirting mess is his favorite thing ever btw.

this male has SUCH a dirty fcking mouth. like seriously, you can’t get him to shut up.

“what a pretty girl.”

“fucking love this cock don’t you?”

“tell me who’s fucking you this good, princess.”

“gods, I love the way you say my name, angel. keep screaming it for me.”

sigh, I need him.

his hands love wander all over your soft curves, squishing your chub adoringly as he stares into your teary, fog filled eyes. he always whispers to you about how you feel like paradise in his hands.

cum! rings!

he loves looking at the way his cock disappears inside of your lush cunt, then comes back with a white, creamy ring at the base from how much you’ve came.

his kisses are hot, and filled with such passion that it could make the cruelest lords fold under him, and it makes your knees buckle and walls clench every time his lips find yours. his tongue is everywhere in your mouth exploring. the smell and taste of him is intoxicating and you savor every bit as his fucks you.

omg okay, wingplay.

it’s the absolute death of azriel, let me tell you

usually, when you want to expel the prettiest whines and moans from him, you would drag your fingertips along the curves and bones of those glorious wings.

and boy, no matter what mood he is in; weather he’s pissed at you and pounding you so fucking hard, or feeling so loving to you— the second your graze the sensitive membrane, he’s a goner.

“fu-fuck, beautiful.” he’d whine before sinking his lips to yours and moaning against them as you keep tickling him.

also, wingplay definitely helps you when you’re in a lot of trouble— if your hands are free that is.

which gives me an idea: kissing his wings.

you usually only do this when you’re making love or you’re the one in control. either way, it makes him crumble instantly.

a few opened mouth kisses and some licks to the underside can get him desperate and ready to cum so fast. he actually starts to buck his hips in the air because he just wants to finish so bad.

when he cums, which is in a fairly decent amount of time; not too quick, but not too slow. you usually cum once or twice on his cock before he finishes inside.

he cums ropes too.

the fucking sounds this male makes—

im talking whimpers, beautifully dark whimpers and moans as he fills you up. his wings flutter softly and shake, his thighs and abs clench and he usually seeks out your shoulder or bottom lip to bite.

aftercare is always a top priority !!!

sometimes he runs you a bath immediately, others he just stays with you and holds you close while telling you how good you’ve been for him, how much he loves you, how pretty you are as he peppers soft kisses all over your face.

#azriel 🌷 #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel headcanons #azriel smut headcanons #azriel x reader smut #azriel shadowsinger smut #azriel shadowsinger x reader smut #azriel shadowsinger x reader #acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar blurb #a court of thorns and roses smut #acotar x reader smut

[historiaxvanserra]

Reverence

Pairing: Azriel x female!reader

Description: Azriel’s love had always been rough-edged but in the soft light of morning his love is reverent, devout, almost holy.

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings: 18+ only! this wasn’t a request it’s just shameless smut without plot (dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex, etc).

This is the sequel to Ruin but they can be read separately. Part II here.

Tossed from the bosom of dreams and into the arms of a pastel morning you wake with a jolt.

The sun perforates through the thin satin of the curtains and fractured light illuminates the room in golden shadows. It’s a myriad of dancing light, like a broken kaleidoscope, sparkling and shattered– but beautiful still. The sun soaks your dewy skin with her burning kisses, searing white hot into naked flesh and the smell of sleep and sex lingers in the air. You lie cocooned between creased sheets, and recount the night before; his rough touches, and the feeling of his calloused palms as they gripped your hips, his chest and how it tasted of salt, his lips and the curses that fell from them like prayers as pleasure washed over you both.

Your fingers ghost over the bruises that he has left. They bloom like roses on the expanses of exposed skin. The stirring of the body next to you, pulls your from the thoughts of last nights tryst. Rolling onto your side you’re greeted with Azriel’s sleeping figure; his hair falls in messy strands onto his face, the longer hairs sticking to his forehead that is coated in a thin veil of sweat, his long eyelashes press against the tops of his fine high cheekbones and the dull crescent moons under his eyes are hardly visible, his mouth parts slightly, soft snores erupting from him. You watch closely as the rise and fall of his chest lulls you into a hazy state wakefulness. He looks at peace in this light, the shadowed sunbeams ribboning onto his sleeping form casting him in a heaven-yellow light.

Lost in introspective thoughts you don’t realise that he has woken from his slumber. His eyes flutter open, hazel irises illuminated in the daylight, flecks of gold and amber that melt into leafy green. Your eyes bore into his and the ghost of a smile forms on your face as he rubs the remnants of sleep from his eyes.

Still half-dreaming Azriel snakes his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, feeling the heat of his body and the beating of his heart in his chest that rises and falls in a steady rhythm. His mouth runs blazing trails of messy kisses down your neck and along your collarbones, nipping at the sunkissed skin of your shoulders and whispering words of adoration into perfumed skin. The memories of not so distant fever dreams, passion still hot in his veins only this morning in the soft, pale light his love is gentle, careful, almost holy.

You relish in his tight embrace and the heat of his skin thaws the cold morning chill away. Him and the sun; burning and ardent. You sigh contently as the gentle kisses he places at the base of your neck become more urgent, breathing him in as he runs his fingers through your hair, you are reminded what heaven smells like; icy air and cedar. Brushing a stray hair from his forehead you stretch in his hold and you bruise like fruit flesh in his tender grip.

Azriel shifts in his position, rolling onto his forearms and his hands settle between your shoulders and your head, sweeping your hair which has fallen in haphazard curls away from your face. Your body curls into him, fitting together like it was always supposed to be this way-- you and him in the pale morning light.

Swallowed by his height and the expanses of his broad shoulders you run your hands over the taut muscles beneath his skin. As your body, still flirting with sleep, melts into him, you snake your arms around his neck, one hand stroking the loose strands of chestnut at the nape of his neck and the other tracing the inky patterns along his right shoulder blade. Your lips meet his slowly, breathing him in with ardour and adoration, deepening the kiss, your swollen lips pressing into his harder this time. Azriel’s hands come to either side of your face, cradling you in his palms, the calloused pad of his thumb tracing soft circles onto the skin of your cheek, running along your cheekbones, temple and jaw. His lips move slow against yours as you melt into each other. He sighs into your mouth, taking you into him, clinging to you, his breaths synchronising with yours and lulling you into a state of bliss.

The way he touches you is full of devotion and something akin to worship. He looks at you more reverently than he does any divine being or High-Fae. He doesn’t know if he believes in a The Mother but looking at you all sleepy, and sunkissed and ethereal, wrapped up in divine light he believes in something. He’s been searching for too long for a place to worship and you, whispering his name like sin against his skin and your hands scorching his flesh, seem the closest to the next world that he will ever get.

He rocks gently into you, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck, brushing his knuckles over the soft, exposed planes of skin at your ribcage, only stopping to whisper in a language you can’t understand, words comparable to prayer.

In those fleeting moments, doused in pale light as he moves over you, it’s clear that the need for each other outweighs all else. Yearning for release, longing for him makes everything more intoxicating. Your breathing grows laboured and heavy with a serene bliss, your senses blur, drunk on his touch and the heat of his skin on yours. His calloused hands, once covered in blood, kiss hymns up your sides, scars grazing over yours, skin whispering and limbs, like heavenly bodies caress your supple skin as they curled into each other, entwining two bodies and becoming one.

His breath hitches in his throat, coming out in breathy rasps as he comes to rest upon your hip, you push your bare hips into his. His cock hardens, silken and cool marble beneath your touch as you press against him in an unyielding rhythm. He groans, his eyes darkening and boring into yours, lips parting and eyes drifting shut so beautifully that your walls tighten at the sight of him. You stroke your hand up and down his length, growing harder under the delicate touch of your hand– the hand of the Gods he thinks to himself.

Azriel pulls your hand from him and entwined his fingers with your own, kissing you, he sucks your lower lip lightly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. He begins to kiss down your jaw, the crook of your neck, the base of your throat and collarbones, the peaks of his knuckles ghosting the skin of your hips and thighs. Dipping his head into the valley of your breasts, his nose and beard grazing the silken skin as he hums against you, taking a hardening nipple in his mouth while he massages the other. He has committed the maps of your body to memory; always able to find a home in you, returning to those sweet spots he knows make you weak. Giving yourself over to him you exhale, arching your back into him, his one hand holding you, where your back curves away from the bed and into him.Your lips parting with a gasp as his tongue runs light circles over your nipples, flicking them slowly, the grain of his stubble rough against your softness.

Sinking slowly down the curves of your body, savouring you in the light of the rising sun, Azriel prays to you, his words and his touch like velvet over your skin and into your ears. Whispers of worship and the sound of his lips on your skin, marking you as his. You thread your fingers through the tresses of his head when his head settles between your parted thighs kissing odes into the skin there.

You cry out softly, gentle rasps, like hymns when his tongue begins to circle your clit. Sliding his strong arm over your hips so he can hold you still, his muscles, taut and contracting beneath the skin, he holds you down with ease. You’re painted in a blush the colour of the dawn sky as he runs his tongue up your folds, watching your hips struggle to roll in his hold, his pupils dilating and sharpening, a look of devout adoration glinting in his hazel eyes.

Azriel’s tongue sends waves of pleasure rippling through you, heat that creeps up your spine and pools in the pit of your stomach. Your mouth falls agape, a string of curses and praises falling from your pink lips. A soft furrow of your brows in an effort to stop yourself coming undone. Your pleasure and heavenly moans only make him grow more ravenous, he hums deeply as his tongue, inside of you, causes your hips to roll in protest. Sliding his hands around your hips he holds you to him, continuing his assault against you until you’re begging to come undone, begging for him. He draws his lips away from your core, only obliging you by pressing two fingers into your tightness, your walls fluttering around him. His lips fall open, laboured breaths falling from his lips in curses.

You fist at the sheets, needing him close as your body begins to writhe under him, the slow, hypnotic movements of his fingers making you ache. He returns to you, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue before pressing his forehead to yours and watching you as he thrusts his finger inside of you; a thin veil of sweat on his brow, lips parted and through his eyes darkened in lust you swear you see his soul.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, silencing your gasps with kisses, “I’ve got you.”

Your walls begin to clench around his fingers and Azriel’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes leave yours, that search for heaven behind his, to watch himself once more, his fingers curling into your sweet spot, swearing before your permit him to put his lips upon yours again.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, “Come for me.”

Unravelling, coming undone is easy with his words in your ears and his arms sheltering you, cradling you against his chest as your body quakes with the rippling waves of your orgasm as you come, your cries quiet against Azriel’s lips.

Gentle and unyielding, he doesn’t give you time to recover, sitting up and pulling you into his lap, your ankles digging into the base of his spine and the length of his cock, like marble smooth and hard at your entrance. Adjusting to his size you hold Azriel’s face and look down to his parted lips, drinking in his breathless sighs and whispers of reverence as you roll your hips against the thickness of his cock. Swearing sharply, he arches himself into you filling you. His knuckles grazing the knots in your spine, he holds his lips against your forehead as his thumb traced the outline of your swollen lips, smiling against you when your kiss the calloused pad of his thumb.

“you okay, pretty baby?” Azriel murmurs, voice soft and soothing against your skin, nodding in response to your hum of agreement. “Always so good for me.”

Slowly at first, he fucks into you, gradually gaining momentum as your tightness yields to him. You’re left unable to answer his question, moaning into the crook of his neck, trying to muffle your cries. He combs the messy strands of hair that has fallen into your face with his fingers, curling them away from your face while your name, like some ancient prayer, falls from his parted lips. His hands roam your body, touching with delicate caresses the curves and contours of your body, his arm resting on the bottom of your spine, his hand splayed across the small of your back as he thrusts into you, your hips rolling to meet his movements.

“Don’t stop,” you say airily, tugging on the dark hair that rests at the nape of his neck.

His head falls back, eyes closed and lips parted as he draws closer to his own orgasm. Azriel’s head falls to rest in the crook of your neck, his forehead settling onto your skin marked with the ghosts of his adoration. Unable to find the words, he only growls vows into your skin as his hand on your back pulls you further into him.

With your bliss encroaching the world seems to blur at its edges, bursts of colour and white light momentarily blinding as he fucks into you at an unforgiving pace, his thrusts rough and sporadic as he teeters on the edge of heaven.

Azriel moves you upon his cock and it brings a blush to your skin, pink staining the exposed flesh of your chest. Your moans now little more than whispers as he brings you to the brink of paradise, your body wrapped around his as he lays you back down, pressing your into the bed. Azriel pulls away admiring the glow of your skin in the morning light as the sun peeks over the horizon; the pink and gold sun beams falling in technicolour ribbons and becoming tangled between the waves of your hair. As he comes back to you, pressing his lips roughly to yours his hips begin to snap into yours at a faster pace than before, desperate for release. His lips never leave yours, holding your face in his hands again, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. He groans against you, your ankles crossed against the small of his back, holding him in place.

Your orgasm stirs in your stomach like a raging tempest, whispers of pleasurel dissolves into profanity. Stroking your cheeks, running his thumb over your jaw and up your neck, and whispering in your ear those words that only he knows, he sanctifies your body, bringing a hand to your clit, rubbing slow circles and coaxing your orgasm closer still, so you give yourself over to him and sacrifice never felt so unholy.

Azriel’s name once fierce on your tongue dissolves like sugar, like prayer– you whisper it. Unholy against rose petal lips. It catches in your throat like confessional and he fucks you like a God. Thrusting deeply into you, as his lips leave blazing kissed along your collar bones, his thrusts don’t slow even as the heat of him spills inside you.

There’s no scripture that ever foretold you of such sweet agony; his hands in yours, or his lips that atone a mass across your heaving chest, or the blasphemy he rasps when he spills into you. His fingers bruise like sin into the cradle of your hips. When he’s buried so deeply inside of you until the only word you know– his name– falls from your lips. You wonder if other angels fell so sweet.

Laying you back down on the bed he sits back, pulling out of you watching his orgasm spill from you with a lustful gaze. He rubs comforting circles into your hip with his thumb, his head tilts slightly as he watches you; the rise and fall of your chest beginning to even out, his skin on yours grounding you to this earth. Your skin sheened with a thin veil of sweat, pallid in the divine light of high summer.

Crawling to him, kissing his damp chest that tastes of salt and sweat, and taking his softening cock in your hand, his moans are gospel against your bare chest. Azriel groans softly, his eyes closing as your hand on his skin is a familiar paradise.

You lean your forehead against his and graze the tip of your nose with his, as your lips moved to meet him halfway. Before he kisses you, those amber eyes lock with yours and linger there, as if to convey what your words could not. The harsh edges of your narrow eyes soften. He looks at you in a way that assures you it will be this way, always. All you can do is kiss him, inhaling slowly as you press your lips to his. A warmth settles in your chest when his eyes catch yours again. Laying on his chest, melting into him again, you breathe him in and he hums gently. The heat of the sun and the comforting silence lulls you into a misty wakefulness.

Your finger ghosts his tattoos where the sharp blade of his shoulder meets inky black shadow and your legs entangle themselves in his as he murmurs vows of reverence in a foreign tongue against your dewy skin. The sun finally breaks over the horizon, the veins of amber, topaz and molten gold illuminate the sky.

It’s then he realises that not all angels are made of flesh and feather, milk and honey, molten gold and stardust; some are made of scars and sin, sleep and sweat, flesh and blood and in the heaven yellow light you look holy to absolve him

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar smut #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #azriel headcanons #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you

[danikamariewrites]

Can i please request something with Azriel x reader where az is doing super masculine stuff, like he’s being so manly and it makes reader drool over him. Like he’ll giver her a hug and he just smells so fucking good or he accidentally flexes his biceps when he’s reaching over her so the rest of the day she’s latched onto his arm ( real asf ) JUST HIM BEING A MANLY MAN GOOOODDDDDD😩

Just Azriel being Azriel

Azriel x reader

A/n: just think about this made me drool I need him so bad 😭

Warnings: suggestive, fluff

Something you love about being with Azriel is how masculine he is but he also isn’t afraid to show his softer more emotional side around you

But Mother above was his masculine side hot

All he had to do was take off his shirt and you were a drooling mess

You love watching him during training

You don’t even mind how early it is, you will always get up if it means you can see Az in his element

Watching him focus and swing his sword or even stretching to get a view of his perfect ass did things to you

Nesta would tease you about observing training but you give her a smirk and remind her that she does the same thing

You always bite your lip with hearts in your eyes as you watch him strip his leathers from his sweaty skin as he gets in the bath

While you wait for him you distract yourself with a book or making a snack

When he gets out of the bath and he’s in his work clothes you can’t help but swoon at how the black tunic and pants hug his muscles to show off his perfectly toned body

You find any excuse to hug Az when he passes you

You just love clinging to him and absorbing his warmth

His scent of night-chilled mist and cedar mixed with the cologne you bought him for solstice drove you wild

When you hug him you always make sure to bury your face in his neck to catch that sweet smell of his scent and cologne mixed together

Your undoing is when he flexes his arms

Those damn biceps get you every time

You notice they flex when he scratches the back of his neck or runs his hands through his hair

You ask him to reach things for you up on high shelves just to watch his biceps flex

His ego absolutely boosts when he notices you staring btw

There isn’t a thought behind your eyes except him wrapping that thick muscular arms around your neck to hold you up while he fucks into you from behind

You find any excuse to be on his arm for the rest of the day and squeeze his bicep

Asking him to wake you every where in the house, even the bathroom

Azriel knows the effect he has on you and thinks it’s adorable that his sweet girl’s brain just empties when he does something as simple as flexing his wings

Speaking of flexing his wings…

We all know Az has the biggest wingspan meaning other things 😏 so when he turns his back to you and knows your staring he’ll exaggerate stretching his wings out, especially if you guys are out side and he has room to fully extend them

He will ask you to rub them bc they’re just so sore

Truthfully he loves the little blush that comes across your cheeks when he asks. The fact that you still get this flustered decades into your relationship makes him giddy

Corners you to make you blush on purpose since he’s way taller than you

Azriel loves when you place your hands on his chest and run your hands across his shoulders

He has you sit on his lap while he works sometimes and you lay your head on his chest to hear his heart beating

When you want his attention but know he can’t fully give it to you because he’s working you stick your hands up his shirt and trace small patterns on his skin

You also shamelessly watch his hands while he writes

Azriel’s handwriting is just so elegant and neat you can’t help it

You also can’t help but wish his fingers were somewhere else

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel headcanons #acotar headcanon #acotar headcanons

[redbleedingrose]

Hey it’s the anon that had the nightmares. Headcanons about dealing with nightmares would be absolutely amazing if you’re up for it, thank you so much. You truly have no idea how much you’ve helped me 🥺

Of course dear!!! Here you go!!! (sorry this took so long sweetheart)

Edit: This ask has been sitting in my drafts for months and I am so sorry I didn't post it until now. Writers block and general insecurity does crazy things to me.

How the Bat Boys would help you with your nightmares!

Rhysand

Okay, the thing about Rhys is that I think he remains fully aware of your presence at all times, even in his sleep. He can feel you next to him, your body pressed against his, your heart beat thumping at his side, the weight of your head on his shoulder, he can feel it.

He also, is very in tune with your emotional state. Maybe it has to due with your mating bond, but tbh, I think his love for you has brought him a number of powers that allows for the deepest sort of connection to you. He can feel the emotions that you feel. It can go as far as Rhys feeling the roof of his mouth ache when you burn your mouth from drinking too hot tea, it can go as far as him feeling like someone has poked him hard when he is entirely alone in his office (when it is Cass who is poking at you, whining at you to share your summer imported mandarain oranges with him) and if Rhys really sits on it, he can also feel your mixed emotions of amusement and teasing towards Cass in that moment.

So I think that if you were having a nightmare, Rhysand would know. He would feel your heart racing from fear, it would make his own stutter. He would feel the panic pumping through your veins, and it would nearly send him into a frenzy.

Rhys would be awake, shushing your tired whines, and peppering the softest kisses all over your face to slowly ease your mind. The high lord of night would absolutely slip into your mind like butter, easing all the fired up neurons that have built up from your nightmare, slowly detangling the knots of emotion twisted inside your mind without waking you. He would pull you impossibly close, his heart beating against yours, his hands tangled in your hair, rubbing at your scalp, and naturally, you tuck your forehead into his neck, a quiet sigh leaving your once quivering lips.

Your nightmare would have dissolved without your knowledge, and you would be lulled into a dreamless sleep with your mate holding you close, his warm cheek resting on your head with one hand resting at the back of your neck and the other hand stroking up your spine, protecting you from anything and everything, even your own mind. You would wake up without any memories of the nightmare, and if I am being honest, Rhysand wouldn't want to remind you of it either, so he keeps this part of his duty towards you to himself.

Cassian

I am not gonna lie, this male is a heavy sleeper. He is dead to the world once his head hits the pillow. And he freaking snores too. Actually, he is famous for how loud he snores. Cassian can be heard snoring from across the house of wind. And initially, it was really hard for you to fall asleep to. In fact, you would force Cass to stay awake until you fell asleep because you just could not with his snoring.

And now?? Now this fucking male has you unable to fall asleep without his snoring. You need his heated, and I mean this male is a literal furnace, nearly naked body beneath you, with his burly arms wrapped tight around your waist, with your head pressed against his male tits, your legs tangled with his, in order to fall asleep. The snoring has become its own sort of white noise to you, and without it?? You will stay up the entire night and be extremely grumpy the next morning, often resulting in the back of Rhysand's head getting smacked for his taunting. (if Cass is out on a mission for longer than a day or two, Rhys actively avoids you for fear that you will end up choking him for sending his general away. Not that that has ever happened before.... nope... never................)

So. On good nights, you are usually snoozing it away with your hunk of a male, and you end up waking up to a lovely "surprise" poking at your tummy and a male who is too turned on by you to be ashamed in the slightest.

On bad nights though, on nights where you worry about Cassian, on nights where all of your fear of losing your loving mate culminates into nightmares, don't ever doubt that Cass wouldn't be there for you. Cassian is the general of the night court of a reason. He, like Rhys and Az, has been trained, for centuries, to be aware of his surroundings, even in his sleep. So while he might sleep heavy, his body are attuned to taking note of his environment, and that means, his body and his bond is focused on you throughout the night.

So he does wake up to you tensing, to your quickened breathing, to your restlessness, immediately too. His eyes would snap open, with his arm around your waist firm and tight, his other automatically reaching for the dagger he has hidden under his pillow, looking out for any signs of immediate danger to you. Not to himself. To you. His instinct does not edge towards self preservation. It hasn't since he met you. His instinct is to protect you at all costs.

Once he realizes that there isn't any physical threat that is causing your distress, his attention goes back to you, an ache burrowing itself in his chest as he notices your hand is clenching into a fist against him, as he notices your face is screwing up in fear, as he notices your body shaking. His mouth drys at the sight of you looking so scared, and he wouldn't be able to help himself.

Cass would murmur quiet reassurances, rubbing at the space between your shoulder blades and planting kisses onto your furrowed brows, "wake up sweetheart, s'jus a nightmare" and "shhh, I got you love, I'm here" and "s'okay baby, you're fine" and "c'mon, that's it, that's my girl, wake up f'me beauty"

When you wake with a start, he hushes your cries and pulls you in even closer. He would turn you both onto your sides, your front melding against his with his arm tucked under your head and around your hip with his leathery paper thin wings shield you both from the outside world. It's this warm cocoon that he forms around you where you spend the rest of the night and into the early morning.

At first, you would apologize for waking him up so early, knowing that he has training in the morning with Az and the others, but he dismisses that immediately, stressing to you that his only concern, at this time and forever, is you. He would stay awake with you, attentively listening to your ramblings about your nightmare, playing with the ends of your hair while you tell him all your secret fears. And he would kiss you and promise to protect you no matter what, and he would promise to keep you safe. Eventually, you would end up falling asleep, the closeness of your mate, his gentle breathing, and the warmth he brings relaxing you enough to a dreamless rest. And Cass, the ever diligent and loving male, would stay awake for the rest of the morning, skipping out on training to watch over the love of his life and make sure that you don't have any other nightmares.

In the morning, after you wake up feeling rested, Cass would finally let you go, a soft kiss to your lips and a wink in goodbye, only to come back within ten minutes, bringing you some warm, fresh chai that he made for you with some oatmeal that you both share in bed together. You spend the rest of the day cuddled up with your mate with slow and sweet love making, hushed oaths to each other to protect one another, and long naps in between.

Azriel

Azriel is a completely attuned to you. And so are his shadows. He has one that you have noticed that constantly follows you around, that learns every single thing about you to report back to its master. And then there are a couple that you haven't noticed. Ones that stay hidden in the darkness with full intent to take care of anything that puts you in harms way. And it stays that way always, regardless of the timing.

So at night, when your heart rate jumps, your blood pumping through your veins, your eyes furrowing shut too tightly, the slightest bit of sweat breaking out on your skin, they are the first to notice. And they are the quick to notify their master about it, hurridely slithering to his ears to wake Az so he can help you.

Azriel would initially try to soothe you in your sleep, his heart aching at the thought of you being afraid of something he can't control. A quick command to his shadows has the curtains to your balcony eased apart, the light from the moon and stars beaming in through the large glass doors. His scarred hands would stroke at your cheeks ever so gently, your mating bond humming at the barely there touch. Az wouldn't hesitate to place his lips in the space between your brows, moving from one soft edge of your face to the next with small pepperings of kisses.

He would thumb at your edge of your jaw, the calloused tip of his finger reminding you in your sleep that he is there. That he didn't leave sometime in the night. That he would never leave. That he would always be there to protect you. To care for you. To love you. He knows that you have your own traumas that you deal with, and he wants you to feel in control of your problems. Nightmares... they make you feel out of control. And he is there to give the power right back to you.

Most nights, Azriel's simple touch is enough to soothe you. I'm ngl, it does stroke his pride a little (a lot) that he is able to calm his mate with just the touch of his hands. With something that he used to keep hidden behind his back when he talked to others, something that he would cover up from the shame of his past, something that he feared would one day lead to a disgusted look on your face. And on those nights that his touch is enough, once you are settled, he pulls you closer to him, tucking his arm around your waist and wrapping one of his large wings around both of your figures, burying his face into your neck so he can fall back asleep to the feel of your pulse against his skin.

On the nights where the nightmares are just too much, where you are too deep in the dream that you can't feel anything but the fear, Azriel will wake you. He loathes the thought of disturbing your sleep, he hates that you will most likely not feel rested in the morning, but his heart shatters into the tinest pieces when he can feel the end of your mating bond crying out for him in your sleep. So he lays a firm hand on your forehead, his other hand rubbing at your shoulder, tenderly shaking you awake: "wake up my love, it's alright," and "you're fine my sweet girl, I'm here," and "I promise I'll always be here my dove, now be a good girl for me an wake up"

He would hush you as you startle awake, the jolt of your body causing him to wrap his arms tightly around you with mumbled, "that's it, there's my starshine" and "s'okay moon, it was just a bad dream" and after a good long while of him calming you down, he would whisper into your hair with a final kiss to the top of your head, "c'mon love, let's get you something to drink."

Azriel wouldn't let you lift a finger or a toe for that matter. Male would take your comforter and wrap you up like a burrito and then carry you all the way down to the kitchen where he settles you onto the counter, sending you the most beautiful, tired smile while he makes you some chamomile tea. He would be slow in each of his steps, the small smile on his pretty lips never leaving his face as he feels your gaze watching his every movement. He adores doing things like this for you. He craves doting on you. He thinks you are his treasure. A gift from the mother herself. And he plans to make sure you feel that way, all the time, forever, until you and him only exist as stars in the night sky.

A/N: 😫🫠🥲 Sorry this was a bit repetitive, but I hope you liked it ❤️❤️❤️

#rose rambles #rose answers #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar headcanons #rhysand headcaons #cassian headcanons #azriel headcanons #acotar fluff

[jeannineee]

Here me out! How would the bat boys act if they knew about the mating bond but you were absolutely oblivious

Let’s see…

a/n: I’ve quite a few requests to get through, and I promise I’m working on them, I’m just busy with kinktober and writing the Cassian/Reader/Azriel fic.

warnings: some suggestiveness but that’s it

Rhysand:

He’d probably be a bit relieved that you didn’t know about it, yet.

He’d wait to tell you.

Whether you’ve been friends for years, or he just met you, he’d wait.

We saw how he was with miss Feyre so chances are you’d find out before he told you.

It’s mostly because he’s terrified of losing you or making you uncomfortable.

Azriel:

Wouldn’t know how to approach it at first.

Like, we know Azriel has game, but with the bond? Poor baby is clueless.

His normally subtle flirting would probably become more obvious.

He’d be more protective over you, too. Glaring at anyone who tries to flirt with you, keeping a hand on your lower back when you’re out and about.

He’d definitely be nervous telling you about the bond—afraid of rejection, and ruining your prior relationship.

Cassian:

His flirting will be so pronounced and obvious

Pick-up lines, compliments, lots of touching.

When he realizes you aren’t getting the hint, he’s honestly a bit shocked.

This male has zero patience so he’s definitely telling you outright.

It’ll be at the most random moment too; during training or while the two of you are just enjoying one another’s presence.

“You know we’re mates, right?” LMFAOOO

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #female reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #Cassian #Cassian acotar #acotar Cassian #general Cassian #Cassian x reader #fluff #acotar fluff #Cassian Headcanons #Azriel headcanons #rhysand headcanons

[hellsenthero]

Azriel Headcanon

- Azriel isn't allowed to build puzzles with the inner circle because he cheats and uses his shadows to find all the pieces he needs.

- Looking for a corner piece? His shadows found it in a second.

- The piece with the characters face on it? His shadows found it.

-He finishes puzzles so fast it's not even fun for the others.

- So, now he's been banned. (But that doesn't stop him from putting a few pieces together when the others aren't around.)

#azriel x you #acotar azriel #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel headcanons #acotar headcanons