#azriel x nesta

[moodymelanist]

it's you (they add up to)

happy day 5 of @sjmromanceweek !! I wanted to do this fic for SO LONG and I'm so happy it's finally happening. this was supposed to be a day 4 fic, but 5 + 1 fics are one of my favorite formats and we need to bring them back so here's my contribution (and 5+1 totally counts as a trope, right?). title from little things by one direction!

Summary: Five times Azriel showed Nesta he cared about her, plus one time she showed him she cared, too.

Word Count: 4.1k

Read on AO3 here!

♡♡♡♡♡ Nesta

Nesta rose to consciousness slowly, treasuring the way the sheets were perfectly cocooning her body. She’d been so exhausted the last few weeks between training and the library and putting up with Cassian that she was going to take as many spare moments of rest as she could snatch up.

Nesta let herself enjoy waking up for a few more moments before the reality of her situation slammed into her. Why was the sun so high in the sky? Why could she hear the hustle and bustle of the streets in a way she certainly wasn’t used to? 

As she frantically got up and shoved her leathers on, Nesta wondered what sort of punishment awaited her for sleeping in so late. Would she not be allowed out of the House even longer? Be forced to do even more training? The possibilities were endless, and none of them good.

Nesta raked her fingers through her hair to roughly detangle it before pulling it back into a severe plait at the back of her head. She didn’t have time for her usual braided coronet, but that didn’t mean she would risk it coming loose mid-fight; she’d learned her lesson about leaving her hair down all too well. Instead of leaving her braid hanging down against her back, she wrapped it into a tight bun and secured it with as many pins and hair ties as she could scrounge up in as many breaths.

She shoved her feet into her fighting shoes, only barely tying them before she was racing down the hallway. She couldn’t hear anything as she rushed upstairs, but that could mean anything. Maybe Rhys or Feyre were waiting for her instead of that loud, insufferable bat, but there was only one way to find out.

As Nesta made it up the final step, she stalked past the sitting area and dining room in order to make it to the balcony. She just had to get there as soon as she could, before—

“You’re not in trouble, Nesta,” Azriel called out from seemingly nowhere. 

Nesta froze mid-stride, whirling around to see the Shadowsinger sitting at the dining table. In her haste to get to the balcony, she hadn’t even noticed him sitting there; how she could have missed his wings and the shadows swirling playfully around his fingers, she wasn’t sure. She knew it was his job to remain unnoticed, though, so she supposed she’d attribute it to that. 

“I’m sorry?” Nesta eventually said. She hoped she didn’t look as out of breath as she felt.

“You’re not in trouble,” Azriel repeated. He had a healthy serving of breakfast in front of him, and her stomach panged with hunger once the smell hit her. “You’re not expected at training today.”

“What?” she replied, taking a few hesitant steps closer to the table. He had no reason to lie to her, but a large part of her didn’t quite believe what he was saying. “Why not?”

“You needed the rest,” Azriel told her mildly. Despite his gentle words and the softness with which they had been delivered, she could tell he wasn’t inviting any argument. “I told Cassian you’d be back to training tomorrow.”

“He let you?” Nesta blurted out without thinking. Cassian never let her miss a day of training no matter how exhausted she looked each morning, so the fact that she’d gotten to sleep in today almost felt… wrong. Like she was getting away with something that she shouldn’t be. 

“He doesn’t let me do anything,” Azriel replied, his tone a little cooler now. “I’m my own person, same as you.”

“Oh.” She fought the urge to fidget under the weight of that hazel gaze, so similar and yet so different to Cassian’s eyes. “Alright.”

“Alright.”

Nesta was at a loss for what to do with the rest of her morning, but she certainly hadn’t forgotten her manners. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Azriel answered. 

She didn’t think she was imagining the tiny smile playing on the edge of his lips, but she thought it best not to question the gift he’d given her any further. Instead, she simply pulled out a chair and joined him for a quiet breakfast.

It was the best meal she’d had in a long time, and it wasn’t because of the food.

♡♡♡♡♡

The next time Nesta saw Azriel, she was eating her morning meal nearly a fortnight later. The House was quiet, just how she liked it, though it certainly didn’t make forcing herself to eat her bland bowl of oatmeal any easier. 

“Good morning, Nesta,” Azriel said quietly. 

Nesta looked up at the sound of his voice, pleasantly surprised to find he was interrupting her meal and not his much brasher brother. He was a much more welcome sight than her oatmeal, though. “Good morning, Azriel.”

“Do you mind if I sit?” he asked politely. His voice was a little hoarse as though he hadn’t used it in a long time, but she surely wasn’t going to pry. He’d never forced her to talk when she didn’t want to, and the least she could do was afford him the same courtesy.

“Please,” she answered, motioning with the hand not holding her spoon at the many open seats before her. “I could use the company.”

It wasn’t quite a lie; Cassian had taken to just meeting her on the balcony lately rather than interrupting her meals, so Nesta’s breakfasts had been rather solitary as of late. What she didn’t say was that she vastly preferred Azriel’s company to anyone else’s in Rhysand’s inner circle, but she suspected Azriel knew that.

“Thank you,” he told her softly. He pulled out a chair at the seat directly across from her, and a plate of food magically appeared before him. 

Nesta’s stomach made a pitiful noise at the sight of his plate, her body clearly preferring his meal to her tasteless bowl of mush. If it’d been up to her, her breakfasts would look much more similar to what was on Azriel’s plate, but she didn’t have much of a choice under Cassian’s… tutelage.

“Here,” Azriel said suddenly. A little silver pot appeared out of a swirl of shadows, and he nudged it closer to her side of the table. “For the taste.”

Nesta didn’t think she’d seen it before, but that didn’t stop her from reaching for it. She opened the little pot to reveal more than enough sugar to make her bland oatmeal taste better, her eyebrows raising as she took in the sheer amount. “Where did you find this?”

“I have my ways,” he told her cryptically. 

“Won’t it affect my training?” she responded, though it didn’t stop her fingers from tracing the edges of the handle. The metal was cool to the touch but not cold; she half-wondered if his shadows felt the same. 

“You work more than hard enough,” he replied. “I think your body deserves something sweet.”

Nesta willed herself not to blush. “Alright.”

As she spooned sugar into her food, she swore that tiny smile played on the edge of his lips again. Maybe she was being foolish, but part of her was beginning to suspect it might be for her.

♡♡♡♡♡

The next time it happened, Nesta was reading in her favorite library in the House. She’d promised Gwyn and Emerie she’d get through the next few chapters of their latest read – a forbidden romance between two lovers – and she’d decided to take her lunch in here so she could read and eat at the same time. She’d finished her meal a while ago, but she wasn’t due in the library for another quarter of an hour, so she was hoping to finish this latest chapter in time to exchange a few remarks about it with Gwyn.

Nesta couldn’t explain what made her look up from the page, but she was glad that she did when she saw Azriel hovering at the entrance of the room.

“Azriel,” Nesta said, immediately marking her place in her book; he was far more interesting. She hardly ever saw him in this part of the House, though she suspected he’d been up here once or twice to add more blankets to the couch she usually liked to sit on. “What are you doing up here?”

“I made you some tea,” Azriel said back, walking closer to her now that she’d acknowledged him. His hands were gently supporting a teacup and saucer, but from the angle she was sitting at she couldn’t quite tell what was in it. It didn’t smell like her usual flavor, but that didn’t stop her from motioning for him to come closer. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Couldn’t the House have brought this to me?” she asked shrewdly, watching as he carefully set down the cup on the end table closest to her corner of the couch.

“It’s a special blend,” he answered. From the way he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes, though, she suspected that wasn’t all it was. “I wanted to hear your thoughts while it was still warm.”

“Mhmm,” she replied. “What kind of blend?”

“Something my mother likes to drink,” he replied. She hardly ever heard him mention his mother, though she knew he regularly visited her estate, and a large part of her was touched that he trusted her enough to even mention the female, let alone reveal something like this. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

Nesta didn’t need any further encouragement. “At least sit down. You’re keeping out all the light with those wings of yours.”

“Alright,” Azriel agreed, folding his wings in as he sat down on the armchair placed diagonally from her. He was at home in the dark amongst the stars, but she certainly thought he looked lovely in the afternoon light.

“Alright,” Nesta repeated. She reached out and picked up the cup, bringing it to her lips without any hesitation, and immediately fell in love with the spicy yet sweet taste of it.

“Well?” he asked, leaning forward slightly. “What’s your verdict?”

“This is wonderful,” she told him honestly, already going back in for another sip. “You’re sure the House can’t bring this to me whenever I want a taste?”

“Just find me,” he replied. “I’ll make it for you whenever you’d like.”

Nesta was thankful for the tea. Its warmth – along with the size of the cup Azriel had brought it to her in – was the perfect excuse for the pink staining her cheeks.

♡♡♡♡♡

Nesta had been summoned down to the River House after a long morning of training. She’d hardly been given enough time to bathe and change into something more presentable, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that had been by design.

She’d walked into the study with her head held high, refusing to show a chink in her armor despite the fact that Feyre, Rhysand, and Amren had been waiting for her, and Cassian had brought up the rear. No one had said anything for a few moments after Cassian had closed the door behind them, and she fought the urge to heave a sigh. 

Eventually, everyone’s gazes slid to her, and Nesta did her best not to fidget under the combined weight of everyone’s gazes. She didn’t have the patience for their games, though, so she was the one to speak first. “What?”

“We need you to scry again,” Feyre told her. Of course it wasn’t a request; Feyre was telling Nesta what she’d be doing, and Nesta seethed at the unspoken implication that she’d just fall in line. 

“Why?” Nesta asked. She hated scrying, had never liked the way the magic reminded her of searching for the Cauldron, and she knew they all knew that.

Rhysand shifted slightly from his position next to Feyre, his dislike for Nesta practically radiating from every stitch of his finely-made clothes. “We need to find a Made object before it falls into the wrong hands.”

“What kind of object?” Nesta questioned. Mother help her, was it going to be like this for every question she had? “Why can’t one of you search for it another way?”

Amren released a heavy sigh, like Nesta’s questions were mere inconveniences rather than important information she needed to know. “Can you do it or not, girl?”

Nesta didn’t dignify that with a response, but a sudden disturbance in the room took the attention off her. The shadows suddenly darkened into a mass of black and then Azriel was stepping out of them like some kind of dark angel, his face blank but no less beautiful than any of the other times she’d seen him. Nesta caught a flash of relief in his eyes before he turned away from her, but it was more than enough to make her heart pound.

“Azriel,” Cassian said from behind Nesta, sounding almost surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“What’s going on?” Azriel asked, coming to a stop just barely in front of Nesta. One of his shadows darted out to play with the hem of her dress, but the Shadowsinger seemed too preoccupied with the room at large to notice. “No one told me we were meeting today.”

“I hardly thought it necessary to pull you from your assignment,” Rhysand answered, his eyes darting between Azriel and Nesta suspiciously. 

“Nesta didn’t show up to the library on time,” Azriel replied quietly to Rhysand’s unasked question. “One of the priestesses was… concerned.”

Gwyn, Nesta thought to herself. She didn’t know the priestess had a way to communicate with Azriel, but if anyone could find a way, it would be Gwyn. 

“I see,” Rhysand responded. His eyes glazed over for a moment as he spoke to Feyre mind-to-mind before they refocused on the group at large. “We need Nesta to scry for a Made item before it falls into the wrong hands.”

“She doesn’t need to do that,” Azriel disagreed immediately. Nesta was so startled that he was defending her that she didn’t even think to protest. “There are other ways to locate it.”

“Like what?” Feyre asked. 

“Like ways that won’t risk her unnecessarily,” Azriel replied, his voice taking on an edge Nesta rarely heard when he was talking to the others. “You know there are other ways to detect Made items. You or Elain could scry if you wanted to. My shadows could help.”

“The girl is decent enough at scrying,” Amren answered with a nonchalant shrug. If Nesta hadn’t been so focused on Azriel speaking up for her, she might have replied to the backhanded compliment in kind, but she had more important things on her mind. “She should take the first pass.”

“Hasn’t she done enough?” Azriel countered. The edges of his wings were splaying out the longer he talked, slowly but surely expanding to block the others’ view of her. “How is she supposed to focus on healing if you want her to do this for you?” 

Feyre bit her lip. “He’s right. We shouldn’t interfere with that.”

“But—” Amren tried to interrupt, but she was swiftly shut down.

“The High Lady has spoken,” Rhysand announced with an air of finality. Azriel’s wings snapped in tight with the victory. “We’ll try something else. Thank you for your time, Nesta.”

“You’re welcome,” Nesta told him stiffly. She didn’t bother to wait for him to dismiss her, instead turning and walking out of the room as quickly as she dared. Cassian and Azriel followed her, but she didn’t acknowledge either of them until they were standing outside.

“I’ll take her back to the House,” Azriel told Cassian once he’d closed the door to the house behind him.

Cassian shrugged, his massive frame moving with him as he did. “Fine by me. Have fun at the library, Nes.”

“Don’t call me that,” Nesta replied immediately.

“Don’t call her that,” Azriel responded at the same time.

Cassian eyed the two of them warily for a few moments before deciding to just laugh it off. “Whatever you say, Nes. See you around, Az.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Nesta said softly once Cassian had taken to the skies and they were alone.

“I know, Nesta,” Azriel said back just as quietly. “I wanted to.”

They didn’t speak as he carefully took her into his arms and winnowed her back to the House, the only sound between them the snap of his wings as he flew them the remaining distance to the balcony. 

“How did Gwyn send you a message?” she asked once they’d landed. Surely that would be a safer topic of conversation. “I didn’t know you two spoke outside of training.”

“She didn’t,” he admitted with the hint of a flush on his cheeks. His shadows moved quickly to try and obscure his face, but he couldn’t hide from her. “I was the one looking for you.”

“Oh,” she breathed, her heartbeat picking up in her chest. “Why?”

“I wanted to see you,” he answered after a few moments. 

“Oh,” she repeated. She turned over her shoulder to open the door to the House, turning to look back at him before she disappeared inside. “Well, here I am. Join me for lunch?”

Azriel didn’t hesitate to follow her to the dining room. If their hands brushed more than necessary during their meal, Nesta certainly wasn’t going to complain.

♡♡♡♡♡

After that, they started having as many of their meals together as they could. Azriel wasn’t always at the House, especially when he was finishing up an assignment, but he made a point of not leaving Nesta to dine alone as often as possible.

Sometimes when he was out on Court business, Nesta would go days without seeing him. This week was one of those times where she hadn’t seen him for several nights now, but she tried not to worry. Azriel was more than capable of taking care of himself, and had been for centuries. Still, she could admit to herself that part of it was because she missed him and his quiet comfort, and she hoped he would be back soon to bring her tea or keep her company in the library. 

Nesta had just finished her dinner and was getting ready to retire to her room for the evening when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. She knew it couldn’t be Cassian – he hardly ever stayed in the House these days if he could avoid it – and her heart sped up as she dared to hope that Azriel would be back.

Her hopes became real as he rounded the corner, looking a little tired but no more than usual. “Nesta.”

“Azriel,” Nesta said back. 

“You ate already,” Azriel replied, sounding disappointed as he watched the last of Nesta’s used dishes disappear. “I was hoping I would get back in time to join you. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she told him, only a little exasperated. It was hardly the worst thing that had ever happened to her. “I’m just happy to see you at all.”

A pleased little smile played at the corner of his mouth before he came to sit next to her, one or two of his shadows darting out to play with the hem of her dress. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” she asked, tilting her head. “Am I allowed to guess what it is?”

“No,” he answered. A tiny green box appeared out of the shadows and settled onto the table, the outside giving nothing away about what might be inside. “But I think you’ll like it. At least, I hope I do.”

A bit of excited laughter bubbled out of Nesta as she reached for the box and opened it to reveal the biggest slice of chocolate cake she’d ever seen in her life. “Azriel!”

“Nesta,” Azriel said, teasing her a little. He looked so delighted to be right that she couldn’t help but laugh again. “Was I right?”

“You were,” Nesta said back. She’d talked about wanting to go back to her favorite bakery in Velaris with Gwyn and Emerie during training last week, but she hadn’t thought anyone was listening outside of the three of them. Served her right for not remembering he was a Shadowsinger. “But you can’t possibly expect me to eat this all by myself, do you?”

“So perhaps I had an ulterior motive,” he responded. The House dropped two forks on either side of the box and he snorted. “May I join you?”

“Yes,” she agreed, already reaching for her own fork. 

The cake was wonderful, but so was the male sitting beside her.

♡♡♡♡♡ Azriel

Azriel sighed as he stared up at his ceiling, sleep eluding him for what felt like the thousandth time. No matter how many times he’d slept in this bed, it was never as easy as it should’ve been for sleep to take him, though he probably deserved it given what he’d been doing earlier in the day. What right did he have to drift off like a babe when his hands were so bloody it was a miracle he wasn’t practically drowning in it?

He let his thoughts linger down their dark path for the space of a few more breaths before forcing himself to shift away. It wouldn’t help, and it certainly wasn’t anything he hadn’t thought before.

Azriel tried to focus on clearing his mind and breathing deeply, hoping against hope that maybe tonight would be different. He didn’t get very far before he started to get frustrated, but before he could get too worked up again, he heard something coming down the hallway. 

Perhaps his halfhearted prayers had been answered after all.

Even without his shadows alerting him to her presence, Azriel would’ve recognized the sound of Nesta’s footsteps anywhere. He waited until she knocked at his door to get up and answer her, trying to school his features into their usual neutrality at the sight of her dressing robe hanging open for once. He couldn’t see much between the dark fabric and the book she was holding to her chest, but he wouldn’t take the sight of her for granted.

“What are you still doing awake?” Azriel asked her softly. 

“I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Nesta answered just as quietly. Her hair was split into two braids and it made her look softer in a way she didn’t usually show to the others. “I thought maybe I could help?”

“Oh,” he replied, touched. It wasn’t exactly a secret that he didn’t sleep as much as he should, but he was moved by her kindness and attention anyway. “How?”

“I used to read to Feyre and Elain when they were girls,” she told him, shifting the book in her arms higher to reveal the title. He recognized the golden Old Scythian script on the cover even though he couldn’t understand the language. “When they couldn’t sleep, when they were sick, when they were bored. Would that be alright?”

“More than,” he reassured her, already moving to let her inside his room. He probably didn’t deserve this from her, but under no circumstances would he ever deny her anything. “Come in.”

Nesta had been inside Azriel’s room on several occasions, but she waited for him to settle back onto the bed before she joined him on the other side of it. The sheets still smelled faintly of her from the last time she’d fallen asleep here, and he was selfishly glad that he’d be reminded of her for another few days after tonight.

Azriel was more than happy to use his shadows to help hold up the book, but Nesta gently pushed them to the side in favor of using her own magic. “Sorry, little ones. I can see better with my magic.”

“They’ll be alright,” Azriel told her, chuckling softly at the way his shadows were still trying to get her attention. They were no better than he was. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He wasn’t expecting anything — he was just happy to be in her presence as usual — but the moment she started reading, something in him felt safe enough to at least close his eyes. He startled slightly at the feeling of one of her hands stroking through his hair, but it was so gentle that he couldn’t help but relax into her touch. 

Nesta had a beautiful speaking voice already, but something about her speaking in another language made it that much more melodic. Even if he’d wanted to, Azriel wouldn’t have been able to fight the quiet, peaceful little bubble that existed between them at the moment. His breaths started to come slower, he started to lose track of time, and as much as he wanted to savor the moment with her, his body needed the rest more than anything. 

“Good night, Azriel,” Azriel eventually heard Nesta murmur. “Sleep well.” 

The last thing he registered before falling asleep was the soft press of her lips to his temple.

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#sjmromanceweek2024 #acotar #acosf #nezriel #nesta archeron #azriel shadowsinger #nesta x azriel #azriel x nesta #pro nesta archeron #moodymelanistwrites

[duskandcobalt]

Comfort Crowd

hi! this is my contribution to day one of #azrielappreciationweek2023 (cc: @azrielappreciationweek)

the prompt is "The Family You Make" so I wrote a little one-shot about Az and Nesta, my favourite little bestie pairing 💕

1.3k words - no warnings other than slight language :) just two friends notorious for not talking about their emotions, talking about emotions!

ENJOY XX

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Azriel struggles to hold back his grin when Nesta waddles into the library at the House of Wind where he’s reclined on a sofa in front of the fireplace, flipping through yet another report in preparation for a meeting with Rhys in the morning. She’s wearing a simple oversized nightgown in the colour of cream, one of her hands rests on her swollen belly while the other is pressed against the small of her back.

Nesta is only a few weeks from giving birth to his very first niece and while she’d only become more beautiful over the past few months, the scowl on her face tells him that she is more than ready for this pregnancy to be over.

Azriel quickly swings his long legs off the sofa, shuffling around and sitting up to make room for her.

“Oh, yes. Please. Go ahead and laugh at me.” She glares at him as he chuckles, watching as she carefully lowers herself onto the seat he’d left free for her. He knows better than to offer help but a few of his shadows gather around her just in case. “If you had been a better chaperone, maybe I wouldn’t be in this fucking predicament.”

“Right.” Azriel snorts. “As if my presence has ever deterred you two from…” He trails off, making vague gestures with his hands to convey his thoughts instead of using the obscenities that came to mind. 

She only rolls her eyes in response and he knows that she knows that he’s right. 

Nesta and Cassian had never been particularly shy about making sure their needs were met and as ravenous as the two of them were, Azriel’s ears had unintentionally been made witness to their activities more times than he cared to admit. Even the enchanted ear plugs Elain gave him for Solstice one year hadn’t been enough to drown out the sound some nights.

Azriel pats his leather covered thigh and Nesta’s lips tilt upwards at the corners as she turns to the side and lifts her legs. He reaches down and meets her halfway, grasping her calves to help her lay on the sofa with her feet in his lap. Nesta sighs with relief at the feeling of his thumb pressing into the sole of her foot.

“Oh you’re so wonderful to me, Shadowsinger. So good with those hands of yours.” She smirks. There’s a suspicious lilt to her voice. “I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you with you-know-who.” 

Azriel’s hands pause as he fixes her with a stern look. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Nesta apologises, laughing in a way that tells Azriel she isn’t sorry at all. “Please keep going, I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

They spend most of their evenings together like this whenever Azriel is home from an assignment, whether Cassian is around or not. Most of the time, the three of them gather together in the library or the living room, chatting until the early hours of the morning. But sometimes it’s just him and Nesta, sitting in the comfort of each other’s presence, passing sweets back and forth while she reads a book and he reads his reports.

It was rare for Azriel to befriend new people but Nesta had seamlessly become a significant part of his life because they had understood each other so intrinsically from the very beginning.

Azriel had seen right through her abrasiveness. He knew that behind her snark and cutting remarks, there was a female that was so wounded that she’d rather push people away than let someone in close enough to hurt her. He understood that she was frightened to allow herself the things she wanted for fear that they would be taken from her.

Likewise, he had caught Nesta watching him with eyes that noticed too much on multiple occasions. He was aware that she saw the way he yearned for something or someone he couldn’t or wouldn’t allow himself to pursue. Azriel also had utter confidence that she would never say anything about it to anyone, or even to him, unless he brought it up first. 

Nesta would always keep his unspoken secrets just as he kept hers. 

It’s quiet in the library for a long while, only the quiet crackle of the fire and the sighs coming from Nesta as Azriel relieves the agonsing tension in her feet, when she breaks the silence. 

“Az?” Her voice is uncharacteristically soft in a way that makes her seem so small. When he glances over at her, Nesta’s eyelids are shut and there’s a tiny, sad frown on her face. 

“What is it, Nes?”

“I’m so scared.” Her words are shaky and barely above a whisper. “What if I’m not a good mother?”

Azriel’s eyebrows furrow together, his fingers stopping for half a second as he contemplates what to say.

“Why would you think that?” 

“I just…” She takes a deep breath. “I never had a good relationship with my own mother and I’m worried that I’ll end up being just like her.” 

Azriel opens his mouth to respond but stops when she continues.

“Cassian is so good. He has so much love and he gives it so freely.” Nesta swallows. “It’s harder for me. What if I screw her up?” 

“I think that being worried that you’ll be like your mother is proof enough that you won’t be anything like her. Bad parents don’t tend to worry about how they’ll treat their children.” Azriel says gently. “You love so deeply, Nesta. Just because you show it in a different way than Cass, it doesn’t mean that you’re any less capable of raising and caring for a child than he is.” 

Nesta exhales and Azriel can tell that her mind is still racing. 

“You practically raised, Elain.” He rotates her ankles. “I know how much you love your sisters and I know how much they love you. Besides, you’re already wonderful with Nyx. He adores you. He’s always babbling about his Aunt Nesta.”

Azriel smiles when he hears her laugh quietly. She knows that what he said is true. Because while Rhysand and Feyre’s son was often attached by the hip to Elain, Nesta was the only person he’d leave her to go running to the second he heard her voice or she entered his line of vision. 

Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys had all burned with jealousy that the winged boy they had waited centuries for had seemingly taken an immediate liking to the females of the family but with any luck, they’d get their revenge once Cassian and Nesta’s daughter entered the picture.

“You’ll be an incredible mother.” Azriel pats her calf in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “You and Cass will be brilliant parents and that little girl will be so loved. You know I can’t wait to meet her.”

“You’re a great friend, Az.” She reaches a hand out to him and he takes it in his. Warmth floods him as she squeezes his fingers gently. “Cass and I are lucky to have you. She’ll be so  lucky to have you, too.” Nesta rubs her other hand over her bump and Azriel watches in amazement as her movement is met with a small but powerful kick from the babe inside her womb. 

“She agrees.” One of Nesta’s eyebrows lifts in amusement and she gives him her first proper smile of the night. 

His heart swells as he returns her bright smile with a soft one of his own. It swells even more when he looks up to see Cassian leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching him and Nesta with a fond smile and eyes shimmering with tears.

Azriel couldn’t possibly think of anyone better suited to be his best friend’s Mate. Nesta was strong willed and stubborn but she loved so fiercely even if she couldn’t admit it to herself. She would lay her life on the line for Cassian over and over again, as she had done once before. It was the tough, relentless type of love that his kind hearted friend deserved and Azriel was proud that over time, she had slowly but surely become someone that he could not only call his friend, but his sister.

#azrielappreciationweek2023 #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel x nesta #but in a platonic kind of way lol #nesta archeron #acotar fanfiction #my writing #fic writing #azriel appreciation week #azriel shadowsinger

[readychilledwine]

Feelings on Azriel and Nesta's friendship in CC3?

To quote one of my moots, "Smash. Next question."

But seriously. We all caught him indirectly saying that he loves her, right? I want more of the two of them, and I hope we get it.

Through a threesome, throuple, quad, or otherwise

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #azriel x nesta #nesriel #my babies 🥺 #love my moots 💕

[secret-third-thing]

I’m offering 2 for the 500 word prompts 💕💕

Azris meeting in the autumn forest (sfw or nsfw👀👀)

Nezriel or neris in a cafe/bookshop (one place if that makes sense like bookshop with a cafe)

HELLO! I have one for you. I got a fair amount of Azris Requests so I'm going to do all those together for a fun Azris themed evening. I will be sure to tag you when your drabble is posted!

BUT here is Nezriel in a bookstore. This ship holds a special place in my heart. I took some creative liberties (where's the cafe STT?) with this one aka there's a wee bit of smut in it! 😈

It also lives on ao3. RATED E

“As many as I want?” 

“As many as you can fit intothe bag,” Azriel said. The low timber of his voice was almost enough to make Nesta want to return home. Almost. 

They both stood at the front of the largest bookstore in Velaris, the shadowsinger holding a tote out to her. It wasn’t a special occasion, yet Azriel had insisted they go out, or at least get out of bed and stop fucking for a moment to get fresh air. 

Nesta had initially resisted, twisting herself in the blankets of their bed. Azriel unwrapped her until she had lain there naked from where he had taken her the night before. She still smelled of him and the parting of her thighs tested his resolve. 

He leaned over to give her a chaste kiss, but she pulled him closer, kissing him deeper, with the promise of more if he’d only allow her. Azriel pulled her up, so that she kneeled before him on the bed. He meant to get her dressed, but she reached down to trace the muscles of his abdomen. 

“Don’t make me leave,” she had murmured against his skin. Azriel only sighed as she made her way down his chest until she reached into his pants and pulled out his semi-hard cock.

He groaned as she slipped the swollen head into her mouth, teasing the underside with her tongue and working him until he was fully erect in her mouth. Azriel had grabbed the back of her head then, tangling his fingers in his hair and moving his hips just enough to encourage Nesta to take him deeper. But then he uttered “bookstore” and Nesta stopped abruptly, stood up, and went to get dressed, leaving the Azriel dazed and needy.

Now, at the bookstore, Azriel wasn’t sure if this had been a good idea. Nesta looked at him through her lashes. “That won’t be difficult,” she said with a smirk. She took the canvas tote from him, her fingers lingering on his, and wandered to the romance section of the store.

Azriel followed dutifully, admiring the way Nesta walked with purpose to a shelf and began scanning the titles. It was moments like this that Azriel cherished. The cuddling and the sex were great. But Nesta at peace, and lost in her own world? That was a sight to behold. She bit her lip and crouched to view the shelf below. Her finger ran across the spines of the books almost reverently until she found one she wanted and pulled it from the shelf. She gently placed it in the bag and began the process again until she had filled the tote, the cover of a salacious novel peeking out from the top. 

Nesta grabbed one more book and turned to face Azriel, a brow raised. 

“You think it’ll fit?” Nesta asked. Azriel didn’t miss the way her gaze faltered, dipping low before meeting his eyes again. 

“I can make it fit.” He took the book from her and deftly tucked it between Taken by Two Generals and something with a shirtless man riding a pegasus on the cover.

 “You always do,” Nesta said, just loud enough for only him to hear.

#nezriel #nesta x azriel #azriel x nesta #nesta archeron #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar drabble #azriel acotar

[thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid]

Now kiss

I couldn’t decide on a lighter sketch or not do y’all get both

#me shoving them together #they’re both babygirl #digital art #acotar #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #pro nesta #nesta x azriel #nezriel #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel’s shadows #azriel x nesta #Rowan’s art

[theladyofbloodshed]

This is way out of my comfort zone, but for all you Nezriel lovers... here ya go! Nesta vs the Buffer - Part Two (18+)

Nesta had been about to extinguish the little lamp beside her bed when the door had knocked. She wasn’t sure if she had heard it correctly, the brush of knuckles had been so gentle like the sweep of the wind.

A male was at her door, dark head bowed as she opened it. Azriel’s hazel eyes flickered to hers.

‘Have you been sent to kill me?’

A crease pressed between his brows. ‘Do you think I would knock if that was the case?’

‘Well, you are very polite.’

It struck Nesta that they had never really had a conversation, just the two of them before. They had spoken, sure, but usually as part of a group or if other people were present. He was tall in his own right; not as physically imposing as Cassian, but he reached as high as the door frame. A thick sweeping of hair fell across his forehead. She’d always thought him the prettiest.

They stood in a strange stalemate. Two of her neighbours were arguing in their apartment; it was a common occurrence she had found out, though only occurred late at night. It would go on and on. On the second night, she had knocked to see if the female shrieking needed help – only to be told by both of them to mind her damn business.

‘Are you here for a reason?’

Azriel swallowed. A shadow eclipsed him briefly. ‘I suppose I wanted to see if you were okay.’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

That dinner had been downright awful. Right from the start where she had tipped mushroom soup over herself and ended up wearing a dress that was too risqué, from being told the wrong time, for being forgotten and overlooked, all the way to her little eruption at dessert. None of it made her too embarrassed – except perhaps asking Varian if he slept with Cresseida. That was maybe slightly too far.  

‘Can I stay here tonight?’

‘What?’ Nesta’s voice blurted, far too loudly. She tightened her dressing gown around her body then shifted back a step.

At her reaction, Azriel had grimaced slightly. ‘I continued what you started at the restaurant tonight. I don’t want to speak to them. And I know this is the last place they would expect me to be.’

Her apartment became a refuge for the shadow singer. When duty called, he returned to the inner circle. That wall of ice that surrounded him would not yield. He reported back to Rhys, winnowed wherever he had to for missions, but in his free time, he could be always found at Nesta’s apartment rather than spending another moment in their company. He didn’t share what happened at the restaurant. Nesta didn’t particularly care. She had said her piece and left the door open for him to swoop in

It was startingly easy to move around him. They orbited each other silently. Nesta might go out for a few hours, returning with a new book or Azriel would bring hot food with him from a café in Velaris. They never squabbled over using the bathroom, they ate the same food, had the same tastes, and were content to be in a reserved quiet. He didn’t get in her way, didn’t take up too much space. She only bothered him to offer him a drink or snack. Azriel always tidied the blankets on the couch each morning though Nesta doubted he slept much. Sometimes she could hear him, treading almost silently around the living room. It was only because she was still awake herself that she ever heard him.

One night when he’d knocked on late, she’d handed him a key, blinking at the bright lights in the corridor. ‘I’m sick of getting out of bed in the middle of the night. Let yourself in from now on.’

His eyes had passed over the key like Nesta had given him an heirloom. The pad of his thumb stroked along the collar and the bit. ‘Thank you.’

Another week passed with quiet conversations. She saw him only in the moments before she went to bed. A bat by looks and by nature, she had said, drawing a smile from him. Nesta liked those smiles because they were so rare. She had yet to see the shadow singer throw back his head in full-bellied laugher or to even show his teeth when he grinned. Azriel guarded himself carefully. It was a practise she knew very well.

Perhaps that was the reason why, that in such short space of time, they had warmed to each other. Nesta did not pry. Azriel did not either. He read reports. She read her books. She cooked. He cleaned. Sometimes he would disappear in the middle of the night, leaving the door on the latch, coming back before dawn, but Nesta didn’t interrogate.

‘Not that I want you gone, but I have to ask how long you do plan to be here for?’

A shadow danced near his ear, but Azriel swatted it away like a fly. How long will you remain angry with your family, she wondered. Would an equal measure of five hundred years dull the pain?

‘What I mean is, I feel terrible that you sleep on this dreadful couch. At your great age, it must play havoc with your back.’ A slight smirk from the shadow singer sent a wave of pride rushing over her. ‘If you planned on a long-term scenario… We could find another place with two bedrooms.’

‘You’d want to live with me?’

‘Why not? We already are.’

‘I don’t know,’ he said, threading a hand through his ebony hair. ‘The others tell me to loosen up, to lighten up, to be louder.’

A cocoon of silence always followed him. He never rushed his words or said more than he needed to.

‘I like you as you are,’ Nesta admitted.  

Something charged passed through their gaze. Nesta felt it spike in her veins like a spark. Shadows blurred him from view so she took that as her cue to go to bed.

***

‘Why do you leave the room when I light a fire?’ Azriel couldn’t keep the question in. He had been staying there for almost three weeks now. With the arrival of colder weather, he’d fought against his revulsion for fire to keep the apartment warm for them. And every time that first tendril of flame had come to life, Nesta would depart to the bedroom. ‘Is it my hands?’

He kept his hands balled into fists, the scars taut over his bones. Nesta froze in the doorway to her bedroom, a book clutched to her chest. Instinct had her gaze darting to his hands then she shrugged. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘My hands,’ he repeated, the words unsure on his lips. He hated this. Hated drawing attention to them.

Nesta drew nearer hesitantly. She set the book down on the small table. ‘I don’t know what happened to your hands. I don’t have an issue with them, Azriel.’

Azriel tensed. He had thought all the sisters knew. The story had been given wings in secret as if it would spare Azriel’s feelings if they all knew without him having to share the story.

‘What happened to your hands?’ Her voice was gentle. It was the gentle tone Nesta only ever reserved for Elain. Firmly, she caught hold of each hand and pressed them both between her own. It was the first time that somebody hadn’t examined them, hadn’t tried to cast an inconspicuous look upon them when they were the topic of conversation. She had acknowledged them, but hadn’t given them value. He was more than his scars.

‘My father and his wife kept me imprisoned in darkness for years. My brothers poured oil on my hands then lit them.’

The words were rough. He’d told the story only once before – over five hundred years ago when he had finally trusted Rhys and Cassian enough to share it with them.

Azriel could not look at Nesta. Could not bear to see if she was about to inspect his hands. He braced himself for the words that so many said. They were words that ruined him, no matter how well intended they were – have you seen a healer? Can they not be glamoured away? Why don’t you wear gloves?

Nesta merely squeezed his hands tighter with her own and said, ‘I cannot be near a fire because when it cracks, I am back on that field. I am watching the King of Hybern break my father’s neck. When I hear the logs split, I am waiting to die at the hands of the king.’

Not all scars could be seen. What his blood had done to him had ruptured a part so deep that it would never heal. What Nesta had been exposed to in the war festered in her chest too.

They had showed their insecurity to the other. It was strange to let her in – strange to let anybody in, least of all the cold and imperious Nesta Archeron.

On the couch, they sat in silence. He allowed Nesta to look at his hands without hiding them away. Her fingers found patterns in the brutal scarring rather than being repulsed by it. Azriel was sure that there wasn’t a scar that she hadn’t touched. If she was faking it, hiding her disgust, she was a good actress. Even Mor had always faltered slightly before touching them as if they might catch and her unblemished hands would be ruined.

Every time the fire spat, Nesta’s body would tense. She’d grip onto his hands until she had coasted through the wave of anguish. They were each other’s anchor that night.

The following morning, they did not acknowledge the moment they had shared. Azriel wasn’t even sure if he had dreamt it. A mutual trust had grown between them without realising. He found himself watching her butter toast with an expression that anybody else might read as severe. Nesta always looked as if she was scrutinising something even if she wasn’t. Her smiles were there, but locked away. On the rare occasion that Azriel had prised a genuine laugh from her, it bathed him with warmth. She would tip back her head and screw her eyes shut. Her laughs were beautiful.

He postponed his trip to Illyria slightly. Nesta had made them both breakfast, unexpectedly, and he was too guilty to leave it untouched. They had sat together at the narrow table tucked by the kitchen, eating in a peaceful silence.

‘I’ll be back before dinner today. If that’s alright?’

‘I won’t complain,’ she said.

There was a note in her voice that gave Azriel pause, gave him a reason to drink her in a minute longer. He thought of the way that she had cradled his hands last night. The gentle side of her that so rarely saw the light of day. How she had leaned on him for support – and he’d been happy to steady her.

‘Then I’ll come back as soon as I can.’

‘Good.’

In one syllable, Azriel’s mind raced. One syllable had him postulating over a thousand different outcomes.

Shadows enveloped him, prising him away to Illyria. The prickles that covered his body whenever he reached his homeland seemed softer today, wrapped in silk rather than iron. He glanced down at his hands as if remembering the feel of Nesta’s fingers there like she was following rivers on a map.

‘I’ve seen that look before,’ a low voice murmured.

Azriel snapped his head up, jerking away slightly.

‘No,’ Rhys breathed in awe. ‘I caught you by surprise. Five hundred years and I have finally made you jump.’

Azriel rolled his eyes. ‘It won’t happen again.’

‘So, who is she? What beguiling female has put that dreamy look in your eyes?’

His shadows curled around him, whispering that they would strike if he wanted them to. They had always protected him.

‘Where’s Devlon? Let’s get this over with.’

Rhys did not drop the subject as they marched across the windy paths of Windhaven, pausing occasionally to inspect the sparring rings they passed. ‘One day, you will finally bring a female home for us to meet.’

‘Keep waiting.’

Cassian dropped out of the sky with a heavy thud. At the sight of him, Azriel felt hot and sick all at once. He kept his face trained on the young male nearest them who was examining weapons.

After their rooftop argument, Cassian had given him the space that he knew he needed. When the time was right, he had sought him out at the River House, likely after arranging with Rhys to summon him there. Cassian had been genuine with his apology. Whenever their paths had crossed since, his brother always begged him to come back home. To the House of Wind. To the River House. Just to come home.

Yet, when Azriel had asked Nesta if Cassian had apologised to her for hurting her feelings – for letting Mor come between whatever had been budding there - she’d folded her arms across her chest and said no.

‘I don’t want an apology from him. I don’t want anything from him.’

That memory diverted his guilt into righteousness. Nesta had held his hands only – and she had every right to do that. She was not promised to Cassian. Azriel was not tangled with anyone. They were friends. Friends doing nothing wrong. Still, he couldn’t manage to look into Cassian’s eyes for very long.

The day was busy examining new recruits. Their days would follow a similar pattern until the worst of the winter came, Az knew the schedule well. They’d visit each camp to see what lecherous males each camp lord had recruited that autumn then they would assess the likelihood of any of them making the Blood Rite the following year.

‘Come for dinner,’ said Rhys. It was an order rather than an invitation.

Cass slung an arm around his shoulders. ‘We can make a night of it. Mor’s not there. She’s in the Continent still.’

The reproachful look from Rhys hadn’t faded quick enough for Azriel to miss. Mor had cried on the roof, apologised, said she wanted to be his friend. Like a bucket of water had been thrown on hot coals, any lingering feelings for her had been extinguished. More than anything, Azriel was a fool.

For years, he had nurtured a hope of them. He thought perhaps she still needed time. Needed time to meet new people after a youth spent in captivity, after what her family had done to her. Time to explore the world, time to have fun. It had not mattered to him how many lovers she had taken to bed. On the occasions that she blew hot and cold towards him, he was always unable to figure Mor out. She would invite him close then push back. He blamed it on her past, blamed it on her mother and father. Often, he blamed himself too. She would not see him as anything more than a lesser fae savage so Azriel held back. Once, he had tried to confess how he felt.

The memory of that day was scarred into his mind; of confessing that he knew he was unsuitable for her, but he still wanted her. Without a word, Mor had walked away. A bastard lesser fae savage whose father hated him enough to lock him up. The shame had burnt him. That shame of daring to believe that Mor might have given him a chance – that any female would risk sullying themselves with a male like him.  

Each time that Mor flirted with his brother, those feelings wilted more and more. Cassian was like him – and that was what he could never understand. They were both Illyrians. Both bastards. Yet Azriel was somehow less worthy of her touch. He'd blamed it on his hands, blamed it on the shadows that made others uncomfortable. Then he’d even thought that maybe he had imagined the soft smiles and loving touches that she gave to him; that he was so desperate for Mor that he was creating a love story that didn’t exist.

‘I didn’t want things to change,’ she’d wept on the roof, gripping the buttons of his shirt. ‘I like how things are between us.’

Those words had cracked the ice. She liked him to be her shield against her family, against Eris. Azriel had been her knife too. But she did not want him. She would use Cassian to put him off regardless of the strain it put on the brothers. That was what she liked, because the alternative was facing up to the fact that for five hundred years, she had let him believe he was not worthy of her rather than being honest. She would strike out at Nesta because she realised that Nesta would take away the one barrier that stopped the truth from leaking out.

‘I have places to be,’ he said coldly.

***

Azriel was one the most difficult people to read that Nesta had ever encountered. When he had arrived home that evening, tension had bracketed his body. It wasn’t unusual. It didn’t offer anything to his mood.

She was learning to observe his shadows. Sometimes they were excitable, moving quickly without restraint when Azriel was in a more playful mood. Other times, they stayed close by to comfort or to protect. Tonight, they were gone. Nesta didn’t know what that meant.

They ate quietly. Azriel did not divulge on his day, but he had thanked her for cooking and asked how her own day had been. Nesta had been into the city. The male had insisted on providing coin for his opulent lodging of the broken couch, so she had spent some money on wooden children’s games to occupy the time with the approach of winter. Nesta was happy to find that many were similar to mortal games she had played with servants.

‘You don’t want to play cards with me,’ said Azriel after his shower. His dark hair was damp and curled around his face. ‘I cheat.’

‘You’re a very honest cheat,’ she acknowledged, shuffling the cards. ‘Since I have no other company, you will have to do.’

They knew similar games and established rules. It had been a long time since Nesta had played games. She thought of the elderly servant who had seemingly always been a part of the household staff when she was little. Somehow, he had learnt sleight of hand tricks. Nesta had believed it to be faerie magic and would watch in wonder as he’d always guess what her card had been or how he’d transform her card into a toffee for her to gobble. He’d had a hacking cough, veiny hands, and grew thinner each time Nesta sought him out in the gardens. One day, he never came to the manor again. When she’d asked her father, he’d simply said the servant was gone.

‘Why do you keep glancing over your shoulder?’ Azriel’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you expecting somebody?’

She bit down on her lower lip. ‘I’m trying to work out how you cheat. I keep thinking there will be a shadow behind me, spying on my cards.’

‘They don’t make you uncomfortable?’

They were a part of him. ‘Of course not.’

Once games became tiresome, Nesta asked the male about the Blood Rite. She had purchased books about Illyria to better understand that part of the land. Their training was brutal, lives were short for many. She couldn’t fathom dumping a child in a war camp. It reminded her of baby birds that were pushed out of the nest and forced to fly. Many more didn’t.

‘These ones,’ Azriel said, gesturing to the whorls of black ink running over his bare arms, ‘are standard for most warriors. They’re associated with luck and glory. After the Blood Rite, males receive more in a ceremony. Bodies are flagging but you have to stand up for one more night of drinking and tattoos. That’s the final test.’

‘You have those?’

Azriel nodded, eyes searching her face. ‘You receive more depending on your status. The three of us touched Ramiel so we received the highest honours.’

‘Show me them.’

***

Obliging, Azriel pulled off his shirt. Nesta’s eyes canvassed his chest, tracking the details in the ink. Wrong. So wrong. Their conversation was minimal as she committed the hard planes of his body to memory. Both of them knew they were crossing a boundary tonight. From Nesta’s fervour, as she touched his skin, Azriel surmised she didn’t care.

Fingers traced the whorls with an intensity that a scholar might brush the letters of an ancient text, seeking answers. Her knuckles tracked up Azriel’s neck and he lifted his chin as she reached his jaw.

‘What do you want?’ His voice was a quiet warning in the dark.

A muted smile was his response. ‘You’ll make me beg for it?’

Azriel followed the pattern his thumb drew on Nesta’s collar bone, the daring sweep of it below the cut of her gown. His eyes flickered back to her. ‘I want to hear it from your lips.’

Wanted to hear if she was brave enough to voice it. Wanted confirmation that it was not just him getting lost down a path they never should have wandered down. Wanted to know that he wasn’t wasting his feelings once more on someone who didn’t value him.

Nesta brushed his hand aside. She appraised him with the same steel look that she had given to every high lord in the Dawn Court meeting.

In a swift motion, she straddled his lap. Now, she was the one pushing him to his limit. Seeing how brave he would be. A hand stroked against his hair then it was holding him in place.

‘I want you to kiss me.’

So, he’d obliged. Nesta had leant forwards and everything had felt as if it was moving at a different pace. The fire’s movements were slow and sluggish. The world even stopped turning on its axis.

They had moved too fast. Azriel’s lips crushing against Nesta. A flush spreading up her cheeks as he kissed down to her neck in a fevered motion. Her hand had raked through his hair, dragging his mouth back to hers.

Her hips had circled his lap. His hands curved around to grip her waist, to help the motion that was undoing him. Nesta’s soft moans were a beacon to him, calling for more.

It was a mistake. Every kiss, every tantalising touch was a mistake. He should have stopped.

She’d been confident, tugging him to the bedroom, hands gliding up his bare back. She hadn’t said stop when he lifted her against the wall, kissing so deeply time halted. Hadn’t protested when he’d roughly pulled her dress off, not when he’d run his scarred hands over her beautiful body.

He hadn’t known. Hadn’t realised she was a maiden until he had given the first thrust, felt her body shudder around him, the sharp spike of her breath against his ear. He’d seen the blood after and nearly vomited. He should have been softer. Shouldn’t have rushed straight into bedding her. Shouldn’t have pressed his body so tightly to Nesta’s that her hips ground into his skin. He’d crossed a line. His mind buzzed with a thousand feelings, a thousand scenarios.

Revenge. Was that what Cassian would think? Some sick payback for him sleeping with Mor all those years ago?

Nesta leaned over the bed, fumbling for anything to regain her modesty. He couldn’t let her think she was a pawn in a game of vengeance. Azriel rushed to the bathroom, found a cloth to soak with tepid water. He hesitated from cleaning her himself and instead pressed it into her hands.

 ‘I didn’t know you were a maiden.’

Why was it worse that she was? Because Azriel knew how the others would view it when it came to light. Knew that for a once-mortal female, this should have been special and he had been rough with passion.

‘Not anymore,’ she muttered.

Azriel faced the wall, allowing Nesta the privacy she deserved. He heard the slide of a drawer then a night gown being pulled over her head. He fixed her with a look. ‘Did I hurt you?’

For a fraction of a second, her face faltered. ‘Just at the start.’

His chest tightened at the admission. ‘Sorry.’

Azriel knew he should leave. Knew he should not have ever come to her apartment. It had been a dangerous game, right from the start. Night after night, they’d edged further down a path that there was no returning from with their growing companionship. But if he left and never came back then Nesta would think she’d been used. That had not been his intention. Never would be his intention.

When Nesta tugged the sheets from the bed, balling them up to hide the blood, Azriel started on the pillow cases too. It was a way of atoning. Remove all traces of the illicit night they had shared.

‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘I want to,’ he murmured.

Silently, they stripped the bed then placed fresh sheets onto it. Nesta didn’t ask him to stay in her bed and he didn’t want her to.

He flew as far as he could, to the furthest reach of Illyria. He had well and truly fucked up everything.

***

Any soreness did not linger. Nesta found herself unable to concentrate without memories of her night spent with Azriel pulsing to the surface. Heat flooded her body when she remembered the way he had moaned against her skin as he entered her. Her breath shuddered each time she recalled the flicker of his tongue against her ear.

When she imagined her first time with a male, it ought to have been a wedding night to a bland mortal man her parents had arranged for her. As a fae, the vision had shifted to a fantasy of a dreamy male who loved and cherished Nesta. He’d have lit candles around the room, proposed maybe, scattered petals and moved his hips a few times until he found release while she had lay beneath him like a plank of wood.

Her imagination had disappointed her. It hadn’t been able to conjure the thrill that Azriel’s hands had. Hadn’t crafted the same pounding excitement when Nesta had taken control and climbed onto his lap. It was more intimate than anything she could have dared to dream. The shadow singer had caressed all of her, unable to settle on one place he wanted to touch. Desire had been the tinder and want the flame. They’d moved together in waves finding pleasure in each other’s bodies. There had been no reluctance or shyness, only lust.

She supposed she would not see him again. The white horror sheeting his face when he had realised that she had been a maiden was enough to deter him. It would be a secret warded in the dark whenever they were in shared spaces.

@canvashearts

#nesta vs the buffer #azriel x nesta #nezriel #nesta archeron #azriel #there will be a few more parts to this

[daybreakmusings]

I love the relationship between Nesta and Azriel so much. They are so parallel to each other and the endless patience and maturity Azriel directs towards Nesta is refreshing, especially considering how all the characters (including her mate and sisters) were so emotionally ignorant and unaware.

When it was said that:

Azriel never said a bad word about Nesta. Never seemed inclined to start a fight with her.

I knew that they would be close for a long time. But more importantly, the fact that his kindness wasn't just a new development in ACOSF but was his standard way of interacting with Nesta from the start.

Almost everyone in the IC approached Nesta poorly or with questionable intent or bad mouthed her amongst themselves. Rhysand and Mor would often insult Nesta behind her back (though Feyre actually did reprimand Rhysand that one time) and even Cassian judged her the first moment he saw her.

But never Azriel. Azriel who saw Nesta and never said anything cruel to or about her. Azriel who never saw the point of fighting with her. Azriel who really saw her and treated her with the respect and patience she deserved.

Notice how throughout the entire series, the only amicable relationship Nesta had (besides Amren...and only up to a point) was with Azriel. One thing about Nesta is that she never starts fights but she will stand her ground and finish them. Every interaction between her and the IC is her defence or retaliation to the wrongdoings done by others. Hence her good relationship with Azriel.

I hope to hear more about them in the next books. I think Azriel could teach his court a few things too.

#azriel #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x azriel #azriel x nesta #nesta stan #anti ic #anti acosf #anti rhysand #anti mor #anti more for obvious reasons #hypocrite born in the court of nightmares #anti Rhysand again for those same reasons #anti cassian #anti amren #anti Feyre for not standing up for her sister #anti Elain for not doing the same #shadowsinger

[silverflameataraxia]

Random, but is there any fan art of Nesta and Azriel dancing together during the Winter Solstice celebration in the CoN?

#acotar #acosf #nesta #nesta archeron #azriel #nesta acotar #nesta acosf #azriel spymaster #pro nesta #azriel acotar #nesta is a boss #azriel shadowsinger #nesta is a queen #azriel and nesta #nesta art #azriel acosf #nesta and azriel #azriel art #nesta x azriel #azriel x nesta #nesta supremacy #nezriel #azriel stan #nesta stan #azriel supremacy #lady death #azriel nation #queen of queens #azriel is the cuddliest and cutest baby bat

[sofakingr8]

How I imagine The Azriel book is going to be.... part 1

Okay here me out. 

Koschei the sorcerer is prisoned on a continent. He according to legend takes women from all over the world... Like Zeus but he can't do that anymore as he is locked.

So, one day he sees a nymph wash up on his continent and is literally taken by her beauty. He houses her, takes care of her and they fall in love with each other and sorta get married and she gets preggers. and gives birth to twins. Things go smoothly for a year. But Castella the nymph is worried about why Koschei hasn't left the continent as she wants to go home.

Koschei hasn't told her about the curse afraid she will leave him too. Castella is not having it she wants to go as she feels like a prisoner. So one day she tricks him into venturing by 'singing' to him. He almost makes it out but the curse forms like a barrier just as he's about to leave. Here was the catch her daughters couldn't go too. That was when Castella became really afraid.

Castella with all her strength sings to the curse where she commands it to let her children go. Her voice is laced with fire and she half burns the curse. Successfully saves her daughters but seeing that Koschei held her captive withholding the truth--she leaves him. She swims away and reaches land for her daughters' safety. But by the time she reaches safety, everything in her is gone. She retreats to the ocean and abandons the children she so dearly saved. Losing memory of her human side as she stayed Nymph for too long and used her powers to a max.

Her twins are dropped at a monastry out of someone's kindness. Koschei having no memory of what happened... slowly starts putting the pieces together and writes to the bone carver. Only out of sheer curiosity does the bone carver visit. He leaves Suriel in charge of the children and also reveals to them that they are lightsingers.  Until one day their monastery was raided and one of the twins was killed. The other one Gywn was luckily saved by Azriel and brought to Clotho. Who took her in and helped her. 

This is when she recieves a letter from the bone carver telling her she needs a new 'Mentor' to learn using her powers as a lightsinger and connects her again to Koschei.  Koschei drowning in depths of guilt and shame seizes this opportunity to reunite with his daughter and they frequently exchange letters. 

Meanwhile a new friendship is formed with Nesta and upon her 'mentor's' urge to become closer to the high fae of the night court she starts coming to training. Through Suriel, Gwyn learns that her mentor is Koschei but not that he is her father. 

On the night of the winter solstice, she heads out to the wind palace to receive a special letter containing a gift from the mentor but that is almost when Azriel catches her practicing and she does play it off cool. However, an hour later she receives the letter but another figure enters. Its Eris and he blackmails Gwyn but he doesn't know that letter is from Koschei. 

Gwyn starts hanging out with him more following that as she is afraid he will tell someone. Azriel on the other with blooming feelings for Gwyn sees her preening with Eris and starts becoming jealous. Gwyn becomes vexed of Eris as he starts ordering her around so Gwyn decides to get him drunk and accidently push him over a cliff. He was a high fae almost indestructable and Gwyn was stupid to think her plan would work. 

Eris gets drunk just as planned, he starts talking and gets everyone's attention. 'I know Beron's biggest secret' he says in between a burp. 'Her' he points at Gwyn and passes out. Just then Guards come out to arrest Gwyn, siting she is a spy of Beron working to up throne Rhys. Azriel watching all this unfold is taken aback. 

Stop he orders... dont lay a finger on her. He cuffs her himself and takes her to interrogate her privately. 

writing part two and will develop this is with proper words just putting the mind map out here 

#gwyneth x azriel #gywnriel #gywn berdara #acotar fic #acotar #rhysand #nesta x eris #azriel x nesta #azrielhateseris #fanfic ideas #it will be spicy eventually

[itsswritten]

wings

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff

Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.

You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 

Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 

If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 

"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.

"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.

“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.

Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.

Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.

The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

It had been one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world, and she had been craving a night off to enjoy the simple joys of laughter and the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her need for respite, you, Mor, and Nesta took it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls' night out for your High Lady.

The night had unfolded into a whirlwind of laughter and dancing, Rita’s becoming your sanctuary for the night as you all lost yourselves to the rhythmic beats and infectious energy. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours slipping away like grains of sand through an hourglass.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.

A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.

The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."

“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.

You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.

They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.

"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 

On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.

Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.

"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.

Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.

The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"

You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.

"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.

“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.

Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.

"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.

Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.

"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.

"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.

You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.

Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.

Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.

You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.

Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.

Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.

Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.

Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.

You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.

As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.

His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.

"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.

Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 

"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.

You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.

You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.

But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.

As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.

You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.

"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.

Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.

Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 

"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 

Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.

"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.

"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."

Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.

"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."

Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.

 𓇢𓆸

As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.

"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.

"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."

You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.

"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.

You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"

"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.

Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.

"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.

"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.

"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.

Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.

You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.

"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.

Your pleas for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. "I'm sorry, my love," he chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. "But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing."

As the playful assault continued, your laughter filled the room, intermingling with the contagious mirth of your friends. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate and beautiful membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.

They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. Your wings outstretched resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink glow that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them.

"There she is…" Azriel murmured under his breath, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you. Pride filled his chest as he gazed at your wings outstretched in all their ethereal glory.

But it wasn't just your mate gazing at you with love. No, your family found themselves grinning from ear to ear, their eyes alight with admiration as they basked in your radiant glow. 

A glow they were grateful for, and one they would never tire of.

a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #rhys acotar #cassian #nesta acosf #mor acotar #amren acotar #nyx archeron #acotar series #inner circle

[dawneternal]

How can the inner circle look at Eris and not see that he's a dreamer just like them. He so obviously wants to make a better autumn court and a better life for his mother and Lucien. He saw Nesta's power and offered her a life where she wouldn't be a pawn in a game. "But he said mean stuff." They all have, bro. It's obvious he couldn't touch Mor or she would be trapped with him. He let her have the future she dreamed of.

Dreamer Eris. His father is killed and the first thing he does is take the first real breath of his life.

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #inner circle #pro eris vanserra #night court #acosf #a court of silver flames #rhysand #morrigan #cassian #azriel #feyre #nesta #neris #nesta x eris

[nebarious]

Y/N: *sits next to az* So I've been wondering

Azriel: Wondering what?

Y/N: What's your type?

*Inner Circle materialised out of nowhere*

Cassian: Good question

Rhys: Allow us to elaborate on his behalf

Amren: He likes someone who is kind

Feyre: Someone who loves their family

Nesta: Someone who hail from the night court

Elain: Someone who has dark hair and violet eyes

Cassian: Someone who is half Illyrian half high fae

Rhys: Someone who grew up with him and is loved by his shadows

Y/N: That kinda describes rhys. Too bad he's with our beautiful feyre

Y/N: *looks at az* Don't worry, I'm sure there is someone who is just like rhys and not taken

IC: *groans* Hopeless!

Azriel: They forgot to mention dense

#acotar incorrect quotes #incorrect acotar quotes #azriel acotar #cassian acotar #rhysand acotar #amren acotar #feyre acotar #nesta acotar #elain acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #a court of thorns and roses

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.

They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.

It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.

You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.

The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.

The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.

But the next battle was worse.

It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.

It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.

You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.

But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.

One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.

Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.

It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.

Cassian.

He'd been run through.

It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'

'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.

You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'

He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.

You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'

He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'

'Do it yourself,' you groaned.

Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.

Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.

Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.

Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.

That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.

It only got worse.

Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.

It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.

And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.

Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.

'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.

You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'

'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.

'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'

And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.

You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-

An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.

You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.

'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'

You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?

'Y'n.'

You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'

'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.

'Elian, Azriel-'

'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.

'Feyre isn't strong enough.'

'She'll have to be.'

'You should take them, Elian-'

'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'

Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.

Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.

Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.

'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.

Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.

Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.

You hated your brother for a long moment.

Elain wondered over, chained but whole.

Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.

The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.

Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'

He didn't have to be told twice.

You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.

You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.

You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.

He was thinking of you when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.

His shadows whispered it.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

y/n.

And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.

You, lying in your own blood. Again.

He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.

'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'

'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'

Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'

Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.

She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.

Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'

'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.

'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.

'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?

'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.

'What?' said Rhys.

'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.

He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'

Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.

They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.

'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.

Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.

You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.

Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'

'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'

Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.

Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'

'She-She told me,'

Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.

His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.

Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'

'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.

Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'

Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.

Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.

You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.

He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.

Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.

Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.

Cassian held him back, physically.

Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.

Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'

He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'

'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'

Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'

Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'

'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'

Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'

He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'

Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'

‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'

'Of course I cared.'

'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'

‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'

'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'

Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'

Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.

And then all Azriel could feel, was you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.

Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.

There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...

That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.

The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.

The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.

You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.

Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.

'What happened?' you asked.

'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.

'Oh.'

'You're my mate.'

Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'

'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'

You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'

'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'

'It's-it's not a big deal.'

'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'

'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.

'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.

'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.

He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'

'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'

'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'

You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.

Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'

'What?'

He gulped.

You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'

He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'

'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'

Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'

You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'

He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'

'Because of the bond?'

'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'

You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'

'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'

You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?

'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.

You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.

One person in the whole world to belong to.

And he was stuck with her.

'Azriel-'

'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'

You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'

'You're everything.'

'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'

Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'

You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.

'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.

You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'

'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'

You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.

But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.

'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'

Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'

You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'

'It's not that-'

'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'

'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'

'I can't ask you to do that.'

He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'

You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.

Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'

'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'

'Mother above,' you sighed.

'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'

'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.

You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.

He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.

Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.

For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?

Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.

Your family, safe.

Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.

You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.

And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.

If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.

After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.

Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.

'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.

'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.

Rhysand.

You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'

'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'

You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'

'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.

You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.

Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'

'Well, don't give me ideas.'

His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'

You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.

The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.

Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'

You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.

'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'

'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'

'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'

'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'

He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'

You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'

'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'

You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.

'You'll always be my sister.'

You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'

'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'

The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.

'What's going on with you two?'

'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'

He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'

You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.

'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'

You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.

'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.

Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.

Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.

Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'

'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.

'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'

Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.

You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.

It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.

'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.

'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.

After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.

Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.

Hesitantly, you followed in.

It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.

And yet, strangely familiar.

'I made this place,' said Azriel.

You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'

'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'

You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.

'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'

He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.

Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'

You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.

'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.

Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.

Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'

You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'

He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'

Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.

'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'

Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.

His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.

You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'

But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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#azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #rhysand #cassian #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #azriel x oc #azriel x elain #azriel x female!reader #azriel x original character #swifties

[thehighladywrites]

“TWITTER VISUAL LINKS” - acotar characters

warnings: nsfw, sex, toys, straight up porn tbh

summary: down right nasty visual links with your favs👀

do you have trouble seeing the posts? - in order to see the links, you have to have an account on X, former twitter, and remove safe search:

amara’s note: don’t mind me, just sharing some visuals with my favs

ᯓ★ RHYSAND

⟢ getting stretched out on his thick cock !

⟢ mutual masturbation, handjob + fingering !

⟢ rhys putting his angel mate in a mating press !

⟢ rhys taking his time, eating you out !

⟢ rhys giving you a creampie !

⟢ afternath of said creampie !

⟢ laying on top of rhys while he fingers you !

⟢ showing rhys your newest lingerie set !

ᯓ★ CASSIAN

⟢ fucking yourself on cassian’s cock !

⟢ cassian fucking his sweetheart sideways !

⟢ struggling to take cassian’s massive cock !

⟢ getting deepstroked by him !

⟢ cassian having your legs spread, playing with your pussy !

⟢ daddy cassian holding hands and rewarding you !

⟢ topping cassian and riding hard !

⟢ cassian’s pov of fucking you in missionary !

⟢ feral cassian can’t get enough of his girl’s tits !

ᯓ★ AZRIEL

⟢ getting pounded from behind !

⟢ sitting on his dick and riding !

⟢ riding azriel’s face !

⟢ azriel absolutely destroying your back !

⟢ hair pulling + doggy style with azriel !

⟢ temperature play with azriel !

⟢ modern az fucking you in the backseat of his car !

⟢ azriel sucking on your tits !

⟢ daddy plays with your pussy !

ᯓ★ ERIS VANSERRA

⟢ bending you over and giving your pussy slaps as punishment !

⟢ holding you bridal style and fucking you mid-air !

⟢ sitting in his lap while he rubs your clit !

⟢ eris sucking on his girl’s nipples !

⟢ being obsessed with eris’s fingers and developing an oral fixation !

⟢ handcuffed and rawdogged by him !

⟢ eris eating you out !

⟢ your little brain goes crazy bc of overstimulation !

ᯓ★ LUCIEN VANSERRA

⟢ lucien showing you his headgame !

⟢ 69’ing with his mate !

⟢ getting your tits sucked while riding him in the morning !

⟢ softly making out mid sex !

⟢ giving lucien a blowjob !

⟢ getting punished with ass slaps !

⟢ lucien fucking your boobs and cumming all over them !

⟢ riding + nipple play !

ᯓ★ FEYRE ARCHERON

⟢ french kissing feyre !

⟢ getting your clit sucked and licked by her !

⟢ eating her out while fingering !

⟢ getting topped by touchy feyre !

⟢ teasing you through your panties !

⟢ feyre’s eyes rolling into the back of her head as you rub her g spot !

⟢ feyre using a paint brush to stroke your clit !

⟢ sitting in feyre’s lap and makin out !

⟢ tounge play with feyre !

ᯓ★ ELAIN ARCHERON

⟢ sharing a double ended dildo with her !

⟢ nipple play with her sweet girl !

⟢ distracted when baking a cake !

⟢ having an obsession with elain’s tits !

⟢ bouncing on elain’s strap !

⟢ sitting on top of her and making out !

⟢ morning kisses with elain !

⟢ scissoring session !

ᯓ★ NESTA ARCHERON

⟢ dom mommy nesta using a wand on you !

⟢ going dumb on her strap !

⟢ nesta puts her hand down your skirt !

⟢ creaming on her fingers !

⟢ getting your pussy licked by her !

⟢ “put it in my ass please” trying anal fingering with her !

⟢ riding nesta’s strap !

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x reader #elain x reader #elain archeron x reader #feyre archeron x reader #feyre x reader #nesta archeron x reader #nesta x reader #rhysand #azriel #eris vanserra #cassian fanfic #feyre acotar #high lord rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhysand a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #eris vanserra acotar #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron

[thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid]

I just keep adding to the sketch 🫠🫠

#digital art #acotar #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #pro nesta #nesta x azriel #nezriel #azriel x nesta #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel’s shadows #I keep forgetting the damn gauntlets that have the siphons on his hands #I just also don’t want to draw them #or rather there hasn’t been anything that I’ve seen that I want to emulate #Rowan’s art

[incorrectacotarblog]

Rhysand: who got an STD? I need you to fuck someone for me

Azriel: calling an STD hit is absolutely insane

Cassian: biological whorefare

#a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #acotar memes #azriel #azriel x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #funny acotar #feyre x rhysand #nesta x reader #a court of wings and ruin #rhysand x reader #rhysand #nesta archeron #nesta #incorrect acotar quotes #acotar imagines #acotar #morrigan #eris acotar #helion acotar #high lady feyre #acotar incorrect quotes