#azriel x yn

[readychilledwine]

Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.

( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)

Here Without You

Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.

Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating

A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.

*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*

💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙

You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.

Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.

You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.

The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.

Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.

You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.

You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.

You were alone.

And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.

The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-

You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.

This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.

Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"

You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."

Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.

You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.

It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.

"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"

You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."

Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.

"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"

"Lucien and Tamlin."

Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"

"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."

He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.

Your bed had never felt so soft.

Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.

His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.

Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.

But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.

Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.

But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.

The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.

The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.

The look of a father mourning lost time.

Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.

"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"

Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."

Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.

If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-

The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."

An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"

Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."

Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"

"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"

Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."

Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."

Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.

Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.

Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."

Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"

"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."

Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.

"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."

Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.

He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.

You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.

He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."

You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.

Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."

He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."

"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"

Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."

He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."

"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.

It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.

My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.

General Taglist:

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

#acotar #acotar x reader #send asks #send anons #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #discussingherewithoutyou

[thehighladywrites]

— “Do you eat pussy like that?”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you’re ovulating, insanely horny and thinking about putting your hands down his pants in the middle of the cafeteria

☀︎ — warnings: smut, nsfw, public display of affection, Azriel is a little stern, like a tiny bit, pussy eating, riding, ovulation

☀︎ — amara’s note: this was so fun to write, i love freaky bimbo reader, she’s so fun. also very realistic bc i too would wanna put my hands in azriel’s pants. and don’t mind the fact that this is complete nonsense. idk wtf is happening💗

series masterlist

You should’ve known azriel was an eater.

Whenever he ate, he did it like he was out of breath, inhaling his food and munching on it. He did this thing where he’d lean over his plate, shuffle food into his mouth, head tilting a little to the left, eyes closed and everything. It reminded you of the way he tilted his head when he kissed you.

He ate with such need and energy that you couldn’t help the dirty thoughts in your little brain. But it’s not even your fault, it’s his. Who the hell eats like he does?

You can't help but giggle whenever you watch Azriel eat, finding it very cute that he devours his food. It’s like, he really loves his meals, you know?

But then you remembered last night when you jumped on him while he was working on his computer. He looked so cute and focused, but his hands... so fucking hot, they looked so good. Like, seriously, how can hands be so attractive? Maybe it was the ring, maybe it was the bracelet or maybe it was because you wanted to gag on them.

You knew you were ovulating, it was no surprise. You basically turn into a succubus, hellbent on getting slutted and fucked. Azriel is there, so naturally you want him to take care of it.

I mean, who else could help you? Getting off yourself is so much work and doesn’t feel nearly as good as when he does it.

“Azzie, i missed you sosososooo much!!” you strolled towards him with a massive smile. Azriel turned around at the sound of your pink, fluffy heels klicking against the cafeteria floor.

He gave you the kindest smile as you approached him, lifting his arm so you have room to lean against him. You had different classes in the morning, so you met him for lunch. you sit next to him, scooting as close as you can. If you could, you’d sit on top of him but you were in the cafeteria so you had to settle for leaning with your face nuzzled against his neck.

There he was, eating like he always did. But today, you couldn’t stop your thoughts. He was eating too good. You wanted to tell him, so you did.

“Hi, my sweet girl. I hope you had a good lecture. What do you want to do after classes?”

You sighed. You were dangerously horny, it was a miracle you didn’t put your hand down his pant, honestly.

“Hmm, I wanna be fingered, i want my pussy ate then i wanna be fucked for hours, pretty please?” you mumbled against his neck, kissing and licking a stripe.

Azriel started coughing, nearly choking on his food.

“And, uh, another thing. D’ya eat pussy like that?” you asked with hope, a french tip pointing to his plate.

“Oh my god, uh — okay, so, baby, you — you can’t just say stuff like that in public, okay?” he exclaimed, his cheeks flushing as he glanced around nervously.

“Why not? I want my boyfriend, there's no shame in it!” you declared, pursing your glossed lips, with your hands folded over your half-exposed tits.

Azriel nervously glanced around as you put a leg over his thigh. “Please help me, i’ll totally die if you don’t.”

“Okay, sure, but why are you so — um, frisky?" Azriel asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of nervousness. A nervousness that increased as you pressed your tits against him.

“I don’t know what that means.” You replied, tilting your head slightly in confusion, your ditzy demeanor showing through.

“Um, sexually charged,” Azriel tried to explain, his hands moving mid-air in an attempt to convey his meaning.

“I’m ovulating, Azzie. aka i need you inside, like right in this moment — like in this second, now.” your nail tapped quickly against the dining hall’s table, a sign of your impatience. “Please stop talking nonsense, i don’t know about sexually charged, m’just horny.”

“Right, right. I read about that. Okay, let’s go. Do you want my dorm or your apartment?” Azriel questioned as he stood up, lifting you from the bench.

That little move of him lifting you without hesitation or struggle made your jaw drop. Your hands automatically moved towards his belt, and a sweet expression crossed your face as you stared up at him, completely flustered.

“Yours.”

Azriel stopped you before you could bend down and blow him infront of people. He led you by the hand, your thoughts completely cleared, except for one thought.

You were SO gonna get it.

—

He’s so gentle. The way the flat of his tongue drags between your folds is ungodly to stay the least, the lewd squelching of his tongue flicking your glistening, throbbing clit.

“You okay? Holy shit you weren’t lying, you’re incredibly wet,” his fingers come to touch you, almost slipping in with no difficulty.

“mm-yeah, m’so good. J’st keep your mouth riiiight there,” you hummed, dragging his head back as you shifted his head a little to the left. He inserted one finger, then added another before curling them, just like he was taught.

You felt his tongue press against your clit at the same time, your hands gripping his shoulders in order to not writhe away.

“ ‘s really s-sensitive, ‘nd it feels so, so good, az.” He flushes, cheeks reddened at your sweet, whines and moans.

“so sweet.. you’re so sweet, baby.” he doesn’t stop when he speaks. instead, he continues to lap at your cunt, his face evidently beginning to get wet from the mix of your slick and his saliva.

It’s so messy, but he’s loving every second of it even when your juices wet his chin and entire mouth. You’re so close to sliding off his bed with the way you’re writhing away. But it’s like you have to! If he keeps his work up, you’ll cum all over his face in seconds.

“Stop tryna run away, you haven’t even finished yet.” He drags you closer to him by your thighs as he locks his arm around your legs.

“A—azzie! s-slow down, ‘m gon-gonna cum too quick if you keep goin’.”

He doesn’t slow down, and he definitely doesn’t stop. Instead you feel his tongue lap your cunt as he sneakily bring his hand up to your clit rubbing it softly.

When you cum, he just moves you on top of him with no warning. You had been begging to ride, whining about how you’d feel fuller if you were on top. As much as Azriel loves you, your whining was making him wanna check you.

“There. Now will you be good and ride? Hm?” He squeezes your waist as you put your hands on his toned stomach with a smile.

“Mm-hm, I’ll ride.”

Azriel is left damn near paralyzed after. He is sweating, trembling, dying.

You on the other hand couldn’t possibly be more content. He had given you a good dicking :)

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @scoobies @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @berryzxx @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria @hannzoaks @throneofsmut

if ur username is in bold, i couldn’t tag you ;(

#talkswithamara #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #az x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #azriel x bimbo reader #azriel x fem reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x you #the sessions series #acotar x bimbo reader #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic

[harrystylesfan2686]

Care

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You take care of Az when he's not himself.

A/N: Everyone deserves someone to care for them when they need it.💕

Masterlist

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

You understand the second you step into Azriel's room that something is wrong.

Just coming back from family dinner with the inner circle, you immediately go to see Az because he didn't come. Rhysand told you he said he was just tired and wanted to sleep after his mission but you knew something had to be wrong. Azriel never misses a inner circle meeting, even if it's just you guys joking around. He is always there, silently enjoying the presence of his family.

So the moment everyone departed to their houses, you rushed to House of Wind with Cassian and Nesta, leaving them to their room and going to Azriel's. You just want to see if he's alright.

The both of have been friends for quite a while, having come closer in the years Rhysand was locked up with Amarantha. He has always been there for you, whenever you need him and so have you for him. It always amazes everyone how you both have feelings for each other but still haven't done anything about it. The timing just hasn't been right.

The first time you met, Azriel was in love with Mor then when he was finally done waiting and tried to move on with you, his brother got held prisoner, and when he came back and things were alright, the war broke out and the timing was never right. But you were still there for each out, no matter what relationship you have, you always enjoy being around one another.

Which is why when you smelled blood in his room, your mind instanty thought the worse. He wasn't in his bed but the bathroom door was open, you didn't hesitate before pushing past the door and stepping inside the small place.

"Azriel?" Your eyes widened as you look at the male sitting in a tub full of water with his legs wide and half bent, elbows on knees with his head tilted down. The water is red, filled with blood making you panic for a second before you realized it isn't his. Only the naked skin that pokes out of the water can be seen.

You call his name again and carefully step toward him, sitting down on your knees when he doesn't respond. You lift a hand to touch his, examing him with your eyes, looking for any injuries, you shoulders shug a little with release when you find none.

"What happened?" Your whisper echos in the silence, and you slowly hold his hand in yours. You watch him watch your joined hands and sigh slightly, not saying anything. You swallow and ask again in a low tone,"Do you want me to go?"

His finger tighten around yours and you almost smile at him not wanting you to leave him alone, you couldn't do that without hurting yourself too but you would if he wanted you to.

"Can I touch you?" You want to take care of him. Want to relieve him from whatever mental place he has gone off to. The small dip of his chin was all the acceptance you need.

You release you hands and take the cloth put near the tub, soaking it in water, you gently start cleaning his skin that is covered with blood and dirt. You think of all the times you found him like this before, not a lot but it still always hurts you seeing him like this.

You know his work is hard and gets into his head sometimes, torturing people until they speak out whatever was needed to. He told you once that there are times he feels happy to hurt the people that deserve it but sometimes it gets so intense that his mind locks out all the emotions and feelings to protect itself from the horrors he conducts.

You are always there to pull him out of that haze, always were and always will be.

"Get up, darling." You say when finished and get a towel wrap around him, keeping you eyes at his face at all times. You pull him out of the bath room and sit him on the bed, taking out a shirt and pants, you dress him and stay close to him.

You were shaking the towel over his hair, drying them when he finally speaks,"Thank you." A whisper so low you wouldn't have heard it if everything wasn't so silent.

"No need to thank me, darling. I'll always take care of you." You throw the towel on the floor and lean down to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. His hand wrap around you middle and time stands still, the two of you enjoying each other in an embrace.

He leans back after a while and holding you still, looks at you and says,"Stay with me?" The vulnerability in his voice shatters your heart.

"Always, my love."

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fluff #azriel x yn #azriel fanfic

[gamarancianne]

Hi, how are you? I had an idea and I wanted to ask you if you could do an angst with Azriel x reader in which she is friends with Elain and has been in love with Az for some time, but has never told him because they hardly have any contact apart from the Valkyries and Elain's training. Then they get a little closer and she decides to tell Elain all about her feelings for Azriel and pushes the reader to confess her feelings and that's exactly what she does, but Azriel's reaction isn't the most pleasant and he lets out a "How can you fall in love with someone you hardly know? Only fools are like that. So she is devastated and disappears for a few days, until she returns and catches Azriel and Elain in a very intimate moment in the bedroom and realizes that they were already together even before she confessed her feelings to him and they end up drifting apart. So the reader begins to do everything she can to forget Az and concentrate on herself and, in the meantime, becomes friends with Lucien, to the point of braiding each other's hair. After a while, they break up and Az starts to notice the reader, but she's looser than ever and doesn't care much about him. And he chases after her a lot and in the meantime an obscenity occurs to her so that she ends up saying it was just a one-night stand. And the ending is up to you :)

Azriel x reader - In Between part 1

Part 2

Okay first of all thank you so much for this ask it is my first so its precious to me !! And I am really fine and you ?? I love the plotline and I am sucker for angst, especially with our little azzy so it's perfect !!

Warnings : angst, smut allusions, heartbreak, mean Az, mean Elain

Summary : You are in love with Azriel, but you don't know him, that's what he said when you confessed. Heartbroken yes, but you surely didn't think that he would end up being with your dear friend Elain.

Note : well this has gotten longer than I thought so it will part 2 and I am already working on it don't worry. Also I didn't know if Elain knew that it was Az or not so I improvised. I hope it fits your standards and you can all tell me what you think about it in the comments. And I am again sorry for my English 😭💗

There he was, in all his glory, sweaty from his fight with Cassian, his shadows swirling around him and you had never been more attracted to someone.

Elain had finally convinced you to join her at training and you instantly regretted, looking at how hard the Valkyries were training but mostly feeling your cheeks heaten up at the sight of him. Of his naked torso full of black ink and fight scars. 'Gods, cauldron boil me why did I accept this' you thought. But Elain was quick enough to shove the thought away when she brought you to introduce you to her family. You had already seen them many times when you had picked her up after training for a walk or a tea party, thing that you both enjoyed a lot, but it was never a proper meeting like this one.

"Hey guys !" She exclaimed, full of joy "This is yn, a friend of mine and she's coming to training for the first time so I hope you are all gonna be nice to her. Especially you Az, don't scare her away" she chuckled looking a the main concerned. After quick presentations, she made sure you were okay and went with her sister, Cassian and the Valkyries for their already known exercises while you stayed there, blush creeping up to your face and ears, with Azriel. Because, with your luck, he was the one to train you today to show you the basic exercises in order to not hurt you during the first day.

"Follow me" Azriel ordered and you obeyed, walking to a smaller ring. He showed you some stretches before starting to teach you many combat basics. It was awkward, for both of you. Every time Azriel came behind you to correct your position, you would blush extremely hard and shiver at his touch. And you could tell he noticed it by the way he straightened and did everything to avoid this kind of situation. To ease the tension between us, you engaged the conversation. "they're really beautiful" you said pointing with your head the blue gems on his arms and torso now dressed with his leathers.

"Oh thanks..." he only responded. Elain did already tell you that he was a silent one but you didn't expect him to be that silent to be honest. But you were stubborn so you continued. "And.. where did you buy them ? I think it could be a nice present for my brother for next solstice". And then he froze, stared at you dead in the eye and laughed at your face. Despite the facts that you didn't understand and that you were even more embarrassed you couldn't stop yourself from enjoying the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. His beautiful laugh was clear and ran to the deepest parts of your soul.

"Wh-what is so funny about what I said?"

"They're siphons, I earned them by being a Carynthian, because I am an Illyrian soldier, you cannot buy them !" He bursted out of laughter a second time.

"Oh mother above, I am so sorry if I offended you by saying that, I don't know anything about Illyrians I am sorry. Really" you stuttered, feeling even more ridiculous than before.

He reassured you about it. You had made a fool of yourself but the air was lighter and the training went on with a more smiling and nice Azriel, with whom you had joked, laughed and exchanged soft innocent touches, until it was over. The bubble in which you and Az had been, exploded when Elain came checking on you two.

"How did it go ?" She asked excited.

"Really well" you answered quite proud of you.

Azriel nodded, and you felt his eyes linger on you when you left with your friend.

You came back the day after, and the day after and after... until it became a routine to train and laugh with Az very morning. Now you were also training with Elain and Nesta because of your quick improvements. But one thing was certain, you had fallen completely and utterly in love with Azriel. You didn't know what to do because he was always staring at you from afar when you were coming or leaving but you two never really talked about your life or anything.

While stretching with Elain, she asked about your love life and you decided that you would ask her opinion.

"Speaking of that, I need you to be brutally honest with me El' "

"What are you seeing someone ? Why didn't you tell me ?" She exclaimed.

"No I am not, don't worry I would've told you" she relaxed. "But you know there is this guy that I see almost everyday and I think we get along well. I feel like he is looking at me sometimes but we never really talk to eachother, like about our lives or anything. It's odd, but I really like him and I don't know what to do."

She smiled at your scrunched eyebrows and responded more calmly: "Follow you heart dear, you are so much beautiful and kind, there is no sane male in all Prythian who could resist you. Besides who is this man ? Isn't it the brown hair guy at the coffee shop you work at ? Because if it is he totally has a crush on you!"

"Haha no I won't tell you but thanks for the advice though, you are clearly the best! I love you Elain!"

"Me too yn, a lot. But now go get your lover before I kick you out myself for you to do it! Fly you fool!" She pushed you out the ring while you were laughing with her and you ran as fast as you could to get to the source of your desire, Azriel. He was almost shooting in the sky when you screamed his name. He turned around to see your exhausted figure running toward him.

"Hey are you okay ? What's going on ?"

"I'm fine thank you Az but I got something to tell you if you don't mind"

"Of course not go on", he responded almost too quickly and straightened hearing his nickname coming from your mouth. You always called him Azriel but never Az or Azzy. Never.

"Well, I meant to tell you for a while but I hadn't enough courage so here am I... I love you" you spoke in one breath your head down and your eyes shut.

You waited for an answer and waited again until you were almost shaking with fear and looked back at Azriel's face. What you saw made your eyes well up with tears. He was shocked, in a bad way, even disgusted at your confession.

"You don't want that yn" he finally answered.

"What ?" You asked your voice breaking.

"How can you fall in love with someone you hardly knows ? Only fools are like that". And with that he flew away, leaving you a crying mess on the floor of training.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your body and heart were sore. You had been crying for hours. After training, well, more after your mean rejection by the love of your life, you had run away to your apartment and cried without stopping, you sometimes just changed the place: your bed, the couch, even the floor.  You felt broken, of course, but above all ashamed at your actions. Your bad thoughts were flooding in your head without stopping. Your anxiety, insecurity and doubts about yourself surfaced once again: he was right, how could you have fallen in love with him without even knowing him ? And then you cried again, this time at your window looking at the stars above you. Two of them were shining more than the others and you just hoped that one day the mother would give you a male, capable of loving you back so that you could both be like those stars, shining together amongst others.

It had been a few days now, and the same routine happened again everyday. You would wake up, your eyes sore from crying not remembering anything, and you would recall your conversation  with Azriel and start crying again all day, only eating ice cream or cookies. Elain had sent you many notes, asking what was happening to you and why you weren't at training. You still hadn't answered yet but, today, you decided that it was time for you to get up your feet and not cry about that lame excuse of a male anymore. You dressed up and went to Elain's apartment near the Sidra.

When you arrived, the door was already open, but when you called her, she didn't answer. The worst scenarios already came to your mind and you entered in her home, scared for her. You stopped in your tracks when you heard noises coming from her bedroom. It was voices, her and Azriel's voices. You didn't want to do anything involving Azriel so you walked back to the door but froze when you heard your name. You didn't want to be nosy, but you heard your name, so it was fair to listen right? You approached slowly and silently her bedroom in which you two had have countless sleepless girls nights, and listened to their conversation.

"What ? You are the one she confessed to ?" Elain then bursted out of laughter and you felt another knife stabbing your heart. Your dear friend, who encouraged you to confess the deepest parts of your heart was mocking you in front of your said love interest. But you weren't supposed to be there, so it was your fault. You deserved it for making a fool of yourself. That's what your thoughts were screaming at you in your head.

"Yeah, but stop it now, I don't wanna talk about another woman right now" Azriel said, his voice low.

You had enough now but still decided to take a look inside yhe room and instantly regretted when you saw them together, naked from their previous activities, tangled in the sheets, now making out with eachother. Your heart already broken in a million pieces, broke again when he said those words you will remember for life "Anyway you know I only love you Elain".

You ran as fast as you could, bumping in the table, and making a big noise in the living room but you couldn't care one bit. You just had to leave the damn place. Tears were streaming down your face knowing your face, and you didn't even noticed it, only focused on the worst pain you had ever felt. The pain of your heart: of a love and a friendship broken. It was too much, too much in just a short amount of time.

And then everything hit you : Azriel had never looked nor stared at you, he was looking at Elain all this time when you were both arriving at training. He was never interested in you, it was always Elain. How could you have been so stupid and think different : the first time you two had ever talked, you had made a fool of yourself and he was only nice to you because you were Elain's friend. For the past month, in need of affection, you had lived in complete delusion of a love that never existed.

#acotar #acotar x you #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #elain archeron #elain acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x yn #acotar x y/n #writing #nesta archeron #cassian

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 12

Pairing: Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sister!Reader

A/N: Welp, it’s taken like seven chapters to lead up to this, but we’re here now

Word Count: 6,038

-Part 11- -Part 13-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The flight up to the House of Wind is quiet, but your ears had been ringing before take-off, and you can’t even hear the pulse of your own heart or the puffs of your own breath.

For a few minutes, you allow yourself to cave in. Like a cake that’s sunken in the middle, soft and gooey from too much butter and not enough flour. Your head dips, pressing against his shoulder, able to feel the strokes of chill wind across your cheek, eyes slid shut with fatigue. Wishing the night away, pushing it far below your conscious, burying alongside everything else you don’t want to touch. Pushing into rough but fresh palms, handing it off for someone else to deal with.

His scent presses into your clothes, and you let it, pulse gradually slowing from its war-drum beat in your throat, the sounds beginning to rise to the surface. The leathery rasp of his wings as they fly higher to the House, the steady in and out of his breath, the wind whispering as you cut through it.

The warmth of the wards passes in your ears, and then he’s landing, arms shifting to set you down on the floor carefully. The muscles in your legs are like custard, and you take a moment to steady yourself, raising your gaze to the House before you. He opens the door, guiding you inside silently, taking you to the kitchen and seating you at the table.

You stare down at the grains in the wood, picking out the slight dampness across from you, table clean and empty.

Azriel slides a mug of tea into your vision, still steaming, and your sinuses start to ache. Cold hands wrap around the burning ceramic, feeling the sting begin to seep through the velvet.

Vaguely, you’re aware of him silently moving around the table, taking a seat, but you’re staring into the swirling darkness of the tea, wondering if your tongue will somehow swell and warp like your hands if you drink the mug down as it is.

“You should take your gloves off,” he says quietly, hands around his own mug. “The heat will warm you up faster.”

You silently stare down into the depthless well below you, wishing to plunge inside. Bathe yourself in hot, searing water that’ll purge those prints from your skin. Remould you like the cauldron did, removing the past roughness of your fingertips and constant grit beneath your nails.

Shadows roll up onto the table in thin streaks, dancing deftly atop the surface, as if trapped in water. They flicker and swell in places, thrumming with magic as they reach out. You stiffen as they dip beneath your fingers, prying them gently from the mug. Slipping beneath the fabric at your wrists, pinching lightly at your fingertips, and pulling.

At first your digits curl, but the velvet slides a little more, and you allow it to fall away.

The sickeningly sweet smell of gardenias fills the room, and you draw your hands back, staring at the crumbling skin as you wrap them around the mug, not minding the surface level burn.

“You don’t have to wear those, you know,” he says quietly, watching from across the table. “Nobody would mind.”

Hands tighten around the thick ceramic, raising it to your mouth as you take a sip. It’s boiling. Lower it back to the table, scalding liquid washing down your insides, not enough to thaw the numbness that’s settled over your skin.

“Is it from your magic?” He asks quietly, sliding his fingers through the handle of his mug. Moments tick by, then you dip your head. “It itches sometimes,” you murmur, then seal your lips tight. “Is it itching now?” He asks, keeping your attention.

Below you, the tea swirls, steam wafting from the lip, warm but wet. You shake your head, “I don’t think so. Not yet.” Hazel weighs upon you, and you take another scalding sip, allowing the burn to sear into you. “Not yet?” He echoes, taking a drink from his own mug, watching you steadily over the rim. You remain quiet, not offering up anything else, keeping to yourself.

“How long has this been happening?” He asks instead, once it becomes clear you aren’t going to be coerced by silence. Your eyes don’t leave the mug, fingers tightening around the pale orange ceramic, the low gleam of faelights warming it. “Do you know what it is?”

“I know it hurts,” you say softly, raising your cup, but not drinking. “But you’re going to make me train it regardless, so why don’t we leave out the messy details?”

He pauses, observing you quietly from across the table. You don’t meet his gaze, and it feels like running away. Letting him put himself above you.

Your eyes blink shut, easing in a breath. That’s not what he’s doing at all.

“You likely aren’t doing it right,” he says at last, sipping from his tea, your eyes finally meeting his over the glazed lip. “How would you do it?” You ask quietly—reluctantly—again peering into the swirling blackness of your drink. “I’d have to know what I’m working with first,” he says pointedly, inviting you to tell him more about what’s been going on with your magic.

“Funny,” you murmur, eyes flicking to his, “I’d come to the same conclusion.”

His brow twitches almost imperceptibly, the edges of his mouth souring, and your gaze dips back down to the tea. How nice it would be to burn those handprints from your skin, for once finding yourself craving the searing itch of your magic.

Azriel shifts in his seat, great wings refolding themselves at his back, narrowed hazel piercing into you. “You might’ve hurt a lot of people back there,” he says, setting his mug on the table, one hand wrapped around its base, middle and forefinger curled through the handle.

Your throat rolls, but you choose not to respond, staring deeper into your tea.

He sighs, and you can feel his attention on you. “Tell them tomorrow,” he orders, voice deceptively soft for what he’s asking. Nails press into the ceramic, tension coiling in your shoulders. “I have one more day left. That’s what we agreed,” you mumble, the real world beginning to sink back into your bones. The weight of grief and the strain of anxiety coupling in your body. Having gone from a night of quiet mourning to one of icy violence in under and three hours.

“You put people in danger with that move,” he replies smoothly, appearing relaxed though you can guess he’s anything but. “So you’ll be telling them—at least Feyre—tomorrow. Unless there’s something you’ve discovered this past fortnight?” Even you know your mouth has pressed into a sullen line. Sulking like a child who’s lost a bet.

“I don’t want to figure it out,” you mumble, pulse thrumming in your throat as you stare into the hot tea. “It’s already hurting me. I don’t want anymore.”

“You don’t have a choice,” he counters from across the table.

“Rhysand would disagree,” you argue numbly. You always have a choice.

“Rhys isn’t here right now.”

Hazel collides with your gaze, the green-brown colder than usual. Is this what he’s like without affection numbing your judgement? Have you been seeing what you want to see? You dismiss the thought—things would have worked out better if that was true.

“It’s hurting me, Azriel.” You reiterate, trying to emphasise the pain that lacerates through your bones, without doing exactly that. “Because you’re doing it wrong.”

“And how am I supposed to do it?” You reply, more bitterly than you’ve ever dared speak to him before. He sits back in his chair idly, taking a deep drink from his mug, watching you pointedly over the lip.

“Fine,” you say quietly, but not weakly, staring at him from across the table. “Where would you start?”

“Tell me what you’ve been doing this past week,” he says calmly, “tell me what you’ve found.”

So he was being serious about that, not just trying to prove a point. You look down into your mug, lightly running your finger over the lip. “I’ve been trying to get it to spark,” you reply softly, not meeting his gaze.

“And?”

“That’s it.”

Azriel blinks, watching you silently. Thinking over his words before he speaks. “What have you been doing, exactly. Aside from reading.”

“I told you,” you reply, humiliation grating and twisting in your stomach. “I tried to get to it, but nothing… It didn’t work.”

“Nothing happened, or it didn’t work?” He asks, and you feel the smallest bit of resentment for his acute attention to the things he’s interested in. “It didn’t work,” you relent.

“So what happened?” He pushes, drinking from his mug—an action you’re certain he does to encourage a sense of ease.

Tension buzzes beneath your skin, ringing in your ears then flashing to deafening silence as you think back over the past fortnight. The steady decline of your skin. “I already told you,” you say quietly, noise fading to numbness again. “It began hurting.”

“Tell me what it feels like.”

“Itching,” you reply.

He waits sternly, practically ordering you to give more than a one word answer. Your jaw works, head dipping as brows tighten. “It burns. Usually only in my hands, but when…” —you swallow, remembering how it had spread so rapidly across your skin, only halting at the line of the pendant— “when you… What you saw, that one time…I felt feverish for hours after. My hands hurt the most, and they…” You trail off, not wanting to speak that single night into existence.

“They what?” He prompts quietly, shadows flickering mildly along the grain of the table. Your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth, swallowing around a lump in your throat. “They bled a little. I still have sores on my knuckles.” Palms splay as still as possible upon the surface, allowing his eyes to trace the scaly, flaky skin—lumpy in parts.

He gives no visible reaction, but you can’t help to imagine silent disgust. They aren’t a pleasant sight.

“That shouldn’t be happening,” he says, hazel weighing into you, and you hastily bring your hands back to the mug. “You shouldn’t be experiencing pain from accessing your magic.”

A heavy weight forms in your stomach, having sat there for a while now.

“Why not?” You ask hoarsely, meeting his gaze. His brow narrows, watching you silently for a moment. “Because that’s not how magic works,” he replies quietly. “It isn’t in itself good or bad, and so it follows it should not have an impact upon its user. Magic is a tool for the wielder, something to be moulded.”

“But cauldron-given magic isn’t the same,” you mumble, eyes dipping to your hands, knuckles popping from your skin as you hold the mug tighter. “Nesta stole from the cauldron. She wasn’t supposed to have anything. And if she wasn’t supposed to have something, why would I?”

The words hang in the air, only now being allowed to fully take shape in the world, finally spoken aloud. “Elain’s the only one who was given something freely,” you murmur, tea steadily cooling, no longer steaming. “So it makes sense mine…that mine has a catch.”

“No it doesn’t,” he says, and a muscle feathers in your jaw.

“Yes, it does,” you grit out.

“No,” he repeats, shadows flickering closer to you, imploring you to meet his gaze; you refuse. “Even with Nesta’s magic being taken, it never hurt her. Magic doesn’t have sentience.”

This time you meet his gaze, pointedly flicking your eyes to his shadows. “They seem pretty aware.”

Azriel stiffens.

It’s by no means an obvious change, and it may well have been enhanced by your mind, but you felt the air shift. On a subatomic level, something changed.

“You said yourself that magic is something to be moulded,” you force out quietly, gaze dipping away from his, regretting the brief snappiness. “So it becomes a reflection of the user.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re no torturer,” he says dryly.

“Neither are your shadows,” you murmur, watching the blackness of your tea. Humour leeches from the air.

A heavy silence follows, taut and loaded, like a bow pulled tight.

“Elain and I spoke the other day,” you whisper, hands tightening around the mug, practically able to hear your skin rustle with the small movement.

Azriel waits quietly, steadily cataloguing the small inconstancies in your behaviour that have been cropping up throughout the night. He’d put them down to shock from being at such close proximity to violence, but it appears there’s something more.

It’s lucky he’d been feeling so restless earlier, allowing his shadows on a looser leash than usual, able to explore and patrol the city streets, cataloguing details to busy them while he worked. Then a commotion had kicked up, and they’d naturally snuck forward. It was only when they’d caught the balmy floral scent tinged with fear they’d scuttled back to return to him, having split the two males apart once he had you away.

“She’d been off the past few days, and I thought it was because of… I thought I knew what it was.” He watches as your pulse deepens, noting the slight but frequent disturbances between scaly knuckles. He thinks back to the way your spine had shuddered with lonely despair, grief etched into the hunched knots of your shoulders as tears splashed into a small pool where he’s now sitting.

“She had a vision,” you manage thickly, and this time there’s nothing subtle about the way he stiffens. Even his shadows skitter back at the mention of those vivid dreams that had stolen words from her mouth for so many months. Trapped in a state half between reality and fantasy.

“You…you die,” you whisper, hardly a breath. “There’s a flash of light, and then you’re on the ground, and you’re— you’re bleeding out.”

“The light?” He asks hoarsely, features tight.

“Green. Like Starfall, she said.”

Azriel stares at you, the top of your head, spine bowed before him in such a meagre, inoffensive stance. Somehow, you’ll be the death of him.

Questions fall from his lips, about the vision: where was it set? What events led up to it? Was there anyone else? What happened after?

In a forest, bargain rings formed with a fox, no one else present, the steep grassy slope with the bone-grey gate and dripping blue web.

He stares at you for a long time, and you keep silent. Wondering if he’ll get to you before you get to him.

“All the more reason for you to train,” he says at last, still staring at the dipped top of your head. Teeth bite the inside of your lip, brows narrowing as heat warms behind your eyes.

“When did you find out?” He asks, refusing to do as much as consider leaving the trail. Who knows where his might might wonder, with the freedom to finally ponder his end.

“The day before yesterday. When I came out of her room.”

No wonder you’d looked so shaken. No wonder Elain hadn’t wanted to speak with him. No wonder you’d been acting so strangely this evening, with everything coiled tight.

“All the more reason to have the others involved,” he says finally. Cassian and Nesta aren’t to return for another week yet, but their plates are full. There’s no way to ask them to take on a task like this, it would be too much to handle. A familiar ache blossoms through the bones of his hands, the signs of restlessness setting in. He still has so many reports to get through, then to manage the topic of your strange magic as well as the vision…to find himself a replacement, too.

Before him, you nod, still clutching the now-cold cup of tea.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Okay.”

————

The parchment lays tauntingly upon the volume, stretched out lazily, practically grinning at you with that razor-sharp smile.

Write again when you’re ready to show your claws.

Well, if there’s ever going to be a time for you to step outside of your circle, it’s now. Taking the first step over the rickety old threshold, moving from mildew smelling wood, toward the crisp freshness of cold wintry air.

You remember what Elain had told you—about the twin bands that forged an alliance. Under no circumstance will you allow even the first step of the prophecy to be fulfilled. So long as you don’t actually enter into a bargain with him, you can stave off the inevitable. Keep it at bay until a solution is found.

The pen trembles in your hand, and dark droplets stain the parchment, having forgotten to clean the nib on the lip of the pot. The words are carved into the paper, looking more permanent than etchings on a grave stone.

How do you feel about a bargain?

The paper vanishes, and your heart pounds in your throat. It’s been a while since you last wrote to one another. What if he’s become bored?

To your surprise, his response is prompt, but you waste no time on considering why he’s up so late in the night, already blending into early morning. Your heart pounds harder when you read his message, pen trembling lightly in your hand.

What trouble have you gotten yourself into, cygnet?

Even through the paper, you find yourself able to hear the condescending lilt of his voice. You can’t help but feel you’ve walked right into whatever trap he’s set for you, but you’re left with no choice but to continue.

I’m serious, Eris.

The parchment vanishes, and you wonder if you should have continued with the first point to keep his attention, but— You can’t let him know how badly you need this. He might not be as bad as the others have made him out to be, but you’d be foolish to trust him entirely. You need to keep your cool.

But then the paper reappears.

I can tell from your wobbly handwriting.

You scribble on the page.

Incredibly articulate, as always.

Nausea bubbles in your stomach, and you sit back in the chair, glaring at the parchment. Teeth chew on your lower lip, pen dipping into the ink pot, hovering over the page, but hesitating. It’s so insane to be doing this—even you can see that. But it’s insane you’re having to be confronted with your own source of magic as well as a vision predicting Azriel’s death.

If you remain idle, he’ll be the one to pay.

They haven’t snatched you up already, have they?

Something cold and slimy ices down your spine, staring at the words, lips twisting down at the sinister question.

What do you mean? You write back, this time keeping your hand as steady as possible.

The parchment vanishes, and you’re left with a sour feeling in your stomach. You’d forgotten about the edge that weighs at the back of your mind whenever writing to him, like he has a dagger idly tracing the knots of your spine. You raise your hand, fingers lightly tracing the nape of your neck, clearing the area.

Paper reappears, and you hesitate, sucking in a light breath before leaning forward to read.

I was under the impression your oldest sister had to undergo some unpleasant rehabilitation. I wouldn’t put it pass Rhysand to do the same to you.

You give him no time to sense your doubt, setting pen to parchment thoughtlessly.

You’re lying. You have nothing to base that on.

You clearly haven’t been filled in on our meetings if you think things are well enough that you have the luxury of inaction.

What the hell does that mean?

You glare at the paper, pulse bumping against your rib cage.

Are you interested or not?

The page vanishes, and you fall back into the habit of counting. One…two…three… Hands fumble with the volume, unread since you last wrote to him. The book isn’t even fully opened before his response is delivered.

I wouldn’t have bothered talking with you if you were entirely bland.

Your expression sours, apprehension draining as you glare at the parchment.

Is that supposed to a compliment?

Paper vanishes, the reappears seconds later.

I don’t give them out often.

The edges of your mouth quirk, familiar discomfort settling over your skin.

I can tell. You need some practice.

The paper again disappears, and you again return to the book, scanning the short title—one you’ve already read. You flip forward, scanning the text to see if it’s something you haven’t yet reached or not.

Parchment settles over the page, returned to you.

Is that any way to be writing to me? I’m under the distinct impression you want something.

Curious, Eris?

Fascinated.

You lean back in your chair, breathing steadily. Reaching habitually for the emptying pot of hand cream. Taking a moment to pause, regulating your heartbeat. This has to happen one way or another, and as it is, it’s the best you can do to keep the prophecy at bay.

I want to learn more about what I can do.

Go on.

Good gods. This is mad. What are you doing?

I know I have something. You write, easing in deep breaths, stretching your feet, body stiffening over the parchment. You know I have something. I want to know more. And I think you do, too.

There it is, written down on paper. Your offer.

The parchment vanishes, a cool sweat sliding down your spine, thumbs rubbing the remaining cream into your skin, rubbing over the dry scaliness, gliding over the stray lumps in your knuckles, the area around your nails dead and hardened.

I’m sure your High Lord would be intrigued by your offer. He’s written. What’s in this for me? If Rhysand finds out what you’re planning, I’ll be the one to take the brunt of his fury, and that’s not what our alliance needs.

He won’t find out. You write.

Forgive me if I doubt that.

A frustrated sigh leaves your chest, pulse beginning to spike.

What do you want?

Tell me what you’re seeking first. Then I’ll decide my price.

You swallow. Unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

I need to hide for a bit.

The parchment vanishes, and a split second of doubt ripples through your fingers, crushing weight pulling on your shoulders.

You’re in trouble.

A little.

To do with your magic.

Maybe.

Moments tick by, but you’re unable to read, vision slanting at the edges as you stare at the blank space, chewing on your tongue until copper spills, coating your mouth. Stress peels down your skin.

You’re asking for refuge.

I didn’t say that.

The paper vanishes and reappears in seconds, and you briefly shoot a glare at the letter.

Lost interest?

For how long?

You blink, thinking. You hadn’t gotten this far. How long would you need? If you tried to bring it out…even through the pain…

How long is possible?

Another silence. He’s probably guessing how serious this is. Probably already knows. Calculating away at your expense.

A month. Take it or leave it.

Eris I need more than a month.

There’s no way you could master it in a month. Both Feyre and Nesta took much longer, it’s unachievable.

The paper reappears, nothing added since, anxiety being sprinkled upon your mind. Your fingertips prickle, and you wring your hands together before relenting, putting pen to paper.

How soon can the month start?

How badly do you need it?

(How badly do you need me?)

Promptly, you respond, dodging the question. You’ve got to be careful around him, the last thing you need is him knowing about Elain’s vision before it’s even been spoken about with the rest of them. You can only imagine what he’d do with that sort of information to hold over you, however briefly.

Tomorrow?

Within the hour would be appreciated.

Very badly.

You scowl at the page, able to hear his mocking tone through the letters.

This isn’t funny, Eris.

I didn’t say it was.

I can hear your mirth through the paper.

The parchment vanishes, taking a while to reappear. You can imagine his lips pressing together—the same way he had when you’d fallen into the river.

You have unbelievably acute hearing.

You glare hard at the paper. Wishing it would burst into flames.

Is it plausible? To be away within the hour?

I suppose.

Yes or no?

Time ticks away, sitting still as you wait, muscles tense as you absently peer down at the flaky skin. You begin running through a list of things to do should he agree: you’ll need to pack, to find a reason to disappear for a month, to… That’s it. Clothes, and an alibi. But how in the world are you going to find something to keep you away from them for a month. You don’t like the idea of breaking from the agreement with Azriel, but you suppose technically he broke it first…

Teeth worry your lower lip, head resting in your hands, breathing heavily as you peer through cool fingertips. This whole night has been a blur.

If you aren’t there to tell them, it’s a safe bet that Azriel will go ahead with it anyway, regardless if you’re present or not.

All you need is a reason to vanish.

Flashing images of sawtoothed ice crackle through your mind, vacant gold filled with sparks.

Your stomach sinks, seeing a way through.

It’s wrong. Wrong and hurtful to him, being used for your own needs. But if it’s for a greater good…

The paper reappears, and you’re out of time to figure out a cover plan.

Eyes scan the single word, written in a neat, elegant script.

Yes.

————

He’d be furious with you.

He wouldn’t show it, but you know what you’re doing isn’t right. And what you’re about to do is much worse.

Hands grip the straps of your bags tighter, two strung over your shoulder, ready to leave. As many clothes as you could fit, as well as the volume Eris had given you. The small, deep blue box burns against your thigh, searing through the fabric of your pocket.

“Bas?” You call, wary of making a disturbance.

Minutes feel like hours as they drip by, the door eventually cracking open.

His lip is split, and his nose looks soft and broken, no blood in sight save for the bruising across his cheek. Gold gutters as he sees you, making to turn away but you stick your foot over the threshold, hand landing atop his, having him flinch.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, voice rough and raw, thyme and rosemary tinged with copper. “I wanted to check on you,” you say, quietly, heart pounding. “I don’t have a lot of time. There’s a lot I want to say to you right now and more I wish I could explain, but I want to know how you are.”

His throat rolls, and he relents on the door, allowing it open a little more. He’s changed clothes, having cleaned himself up since you last saw him. Mere hours ago.

Wordlessly, you extend your arm, returning the warm over-piece he’d lent to you. He takes it silently, hanging it over the hook beside the door, deeper in his house.

“Are you… Have you taken care of yourself?” You ask quietly. He stiffens, but nods numbly, and you can tell he’s being truthful. “What did you want to say?” He asks, diverting the topic, causing your pulse to spike erratically. “I need your help with something,” you admit hoarsely, gold latching with your gaze, a spark of awareness returning, telling you to continue.

You shift beneath his attention, gripping the straps tighter. “I can’t tell you what it is, or where I’m going,” —Bas startles at that, straightening— “But I need to leave for a bit.” Anxiety rolls across your chest as you feel him staring at you. But remaining silent. “I just need a week to figure things out, but until then I need you to help,” you whisper.

He scans your features, searching for clues, dropping repeatedly to your bags as if they might hold the answer.

“What do you need me to do?” He asks quietly, warily.

“If anyone comes asking for me, I need you to tell them I’m with you,” you say, meeting his gaze. “It’ll only end badly for me otherwise. Nobody can know where I’m going or why. I need that privacy, Bas.”

He stares down at you, lips parted, eyes slightly wider than usual. “You— what?” He hisses at last, grip tightening on the door, and you consciously take a subtle step back, watching as he marks the action, features shifting from shock to guilt in the blink of an eye. His posture stiffens, and he straightens, getting a hold of himself, pulling back into his home.

“I can’t— I’m not lying to your family,” he murmurs, unable to look at you, gaze cast down. “You’ve been so insistent on me asking for help when I need it Bas,” you remind quietly, guilt soaking into the chambers of your heart. “Well, I need it,” you whisper, hardly able to get the words out. “I need you.”

The dilemma rolls behind his eyes, scenarios flashing through and playing out in his head. “What would I even say?” He asks softly, voice raw. There’s no time for embarrassment, you have to meet Eris in under an hour, so you push it aside. “Just say I’m on my cycle, and I wanted to be some place safe,” you say quietly, dipping your head in a show of vulnerability. Allowing warmth to heat your skin, fingers tightening around your bags. “It should keep them away for a little, if they think that I’m…” you trail off purposefully.

“Yeah,” he whispers to himself, nodding. “I get it.”

Seconds pass and you shift on your feet, displaying your distress. “Can you— I mean, will you do that for me?” You ask hoarsely, forcing your gaze to meet with worn out gold, tired and weak from the long night. He appears indecisive, torn between you and his rulers.

“Just a week,” you remind softly. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t…” You guiltily shift on your feet, and at last he nods.

“Okay,” he whispers, hands shifting on the door. “Okay. But one week. And you’re not doing anything dumb.”

“One week,” you agree nodding. “And nothing dumb.”

“I’m serious,” he emphasises, moving to reach for you, but hesitating, then pulling back into himself. Guilt bubbles up your throat, wriggling beneath your flesh. You want to apologise, to cry and tell him you’re sorry for putting him in this position. After all he’s done for you.

“Tell me you’re going to be okay,” he says quietly, watching you.

“I’m going to be okay,” you reassure, tongue flicking out over your lips.

If he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t show it.

Bas nods stiffly and silence stretches between you, a rope slowly going taut.

“Okay,” he murmurs, releasing the door, pushing upright. “Be safe, yeah?”

Your throat rolls, but you nod. “Yeah. I will.”

————

The entrance to the tunnel looms before you, right where Eris said it would be.

You walk down into this, and it will take you straight to him, no going back.

You shift the bags on your shoulders, the weight nudging against the little blue box at your thigh.

With a heavy breath, you turn, scanning the trees before you, barely able to make out the speckled lights of Velaris in your wake. A strange sense of melancholy nostalgia settles across your skin, except it’s thick and lined with heaviness. Like you’re leaving behind something you never quite got to enjoy, leaving before you’re ready, suddenly extracted from your life. Lifted and replaced.

You hadn’t expected to fear being away from them. You hadn’t expected to miss them so soon—not even out of the Night Court yet. But the prophecy haunts your steps, driving you apart in order to keep them together. Azriel will tell them about your powers, the vision will come to light, and they’ll understand why you went away. It’s safer like this.

Exhaling steadily, you turn back to the open tunnel, and begin the descent.

The darkness wraps around you quickly, and a sense of confusion prickles at your skin, like your brain has been turned around, direction wobbling. All you can do is continue on forward, putting one foot in front of the other, wandering deeper into the pitch blackness.

A crisp breeze plays with the sleeves of your dress, wrapped in the thickest scarf you could find. The chill of autumn washes over you, sweeping into your lungs, soothing the anxious heat of your skin, cooling down your spine. You pause, the early dawn colours of grey-blue glowing faintly in the distance, nearing the end of the tunnel. Taking in a deep breath, you allow the tension to roll from your muscles, soothed and softened by the freshness of it all. The newness.

When you reach the tunnel’s exit, you’re greeted by an unrecognisable figure, but that possesses autumn court uniform, taking you securely by the arms, before a flash of icy air shocks your skin, dropping through the dizziness of winnowing until you’re within the confines of a castle, great braziers lighting the walls either side a small door. The male instructs you to wait inside, then leaves, disappearing silently off down the hallway without another word.

You quietly open the door, finding that it leads to a windowless room the size of your old bedroom from the hut, lit by three candles. To the left is a neat, single bed with a small closet at its foot, a thin rug over the cold floor, and a writing desk pushed against the other side of the room. A door leads away into what you hope is a washroom.

Overall, it’s sparse and bare, but the air is warm and dry, smelling faintly of pastry, and you wonder where it’s coming from. From the looks of the area, it’s a place usually assigned to servants or handmaids, likely given to you to draw less attention—it would be odd if a Lady suddenly took up temporary home in the Autumn Palace without having to greet any of the Members of Court, so you suppose a place like this is ideal. Which must mean you’re near the kitchen, hence the warmth and smell of pastry.

Fatigue weighs on your bones, lids sliding shut before you’ve even made it to the bed.

You hardly manage to keep your eyes open long enough to remove your gloves and rub cream into the skin, the sickening smell of gardenias permeating the previously pleasant aroma of jams and tarts and other breakfast pieces. It has your stomach rumbling but you’re far too tired to do much, save for setting your bags down and putting the volume on the desk.

Shoes are lethargically toed away, scarf unfolding and put beside the volume before padding over to the bed, rummaging through your bags in search of a night gown. Discarding your clothes and paying a brief visit to the door in the corner—which is indeed a tiny washroom—before pulling on the ankle length gown, slipping into a thick pair of socks, blowing out the candles.

The bed is soft despite the thin mattress, and you settle beneath the covers, muscles the most relaxed they’ve been in a long time, exhausted from a day of emotional turbulence.

Breaths sigh in and out, settling into a peaceful rhythm, deepening as you begin to finally sink into the shallow waters of sleep.

Comfort sweeps over you like a fresh blanket, warm and clean after a long day, finally ready to rest.

“You’ve been here for the lesser part of an hour,” a voice calls from the door, dripping with displeasure. “Get up. It’s morning.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut

#azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel x yn #cbmthy #multi part fic

[nattblacklupin]

Ice and shadows

Pairing: hockey player! Azriel x fem! Reader

Warnings: cursing, lots of fluff

Summary: headcanons about hockey player! Azriel

Hockey player! Cassian ● masterlist

Azriel is defence, He's the quiet and fast one that is nearly invisible on the ice if you don't pay attention to him.

His sneaky ability to not be seen isn't put to use just on the ice to suprise his opponents. He especially likes to use it when scaring his beloved wife, you.

You waited for Azriel to come back home from yet another training. The playoffs are close, and they are working harder than ever. He stays there even longer than his teammates, scared of failing once again - no one on the Velaris team wants to lose in the semifinals like last year. They made stupid mistakes that couldn't happen again. All of them will make sure of it.

With lids feeling heavier every second, you try to still pay attention to your favourite show. It will surely keep you awake until Azriel arrives home.

Long yawn left you as something touched your shoulder. With scream, you jumped up. Now awake and aware with a feeling of adrenaline. You quickly grabbed the vase that was on the coffee table, on which you nearly fell. Ready to fight any intruder that could come in your home. "Woah, who knew I married such a dangerous woman." Focusing your eyes and slowly calming down, you realise that the scary intruder is just your husband finally home. With that, you put down the vase and jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Never scare me like that again," you whisper into his lips. "I wouldn't dream of it." He finally kissed you with plans that will keep you awake for the whole night.

Azriel isn't exactly the type to force you to wear his jersey to games. It's up to you, you can wear whatever you want. He can fight. But oh, mother, when you wear his jersey, it awakes something in him. You having his name on your ass and in your passport is dream come true for him. He is thanking the stars every night for blessing him with your presence.

It was an important match today, the whole Velaris team stressing about it for weeks. This match will decide which team will go to playoffs. Azriel left long ago, which left you home alone with a lot of work. You didn't mind, though. At least you could take your mind off the potential loss that can happen today.

Being finally done with all chores, you decided it's the time to start getting ready. It's better to be there sooner rather than later. Knowing that Azriel doesn't play well without his good luck kiss. Your heart nearly stopped when you checked the time. The game starts in twenty minutes. It's nowhere the time you wished you would have. Your hair is still messy, dressed in Azriels shirt without make up you started running around the house, trying to get ready as fast as possible. Glad for the fact that the stadium was 5 minutes from your home if you ran. Swiftly putting on stray pants that were on the floor, where you threw them yesterday, grabbing Azriels jersey you run out of the house. Your feet took you to the stadium in a record time of three minutes, quickly finding your way to the cabins where the players are probably now doing the last steps of their pregame routine. You open the door while taking deep breaths. "Azriel". Azriels shoulders visibly releax, "you came." He whispered like he thought you forgot, like you wouldn't come to support your husband in the second thing that mattered the most to him. "Of course I did"

As said before, Azriel has to have his good luck kiss, or he just can't play well. Everybody teases him for it, but behind his back, they are begging you to never skip his game. The one time it happened was enough.

Fortunately for everyone, it was just practice match before the season, where it didn't exactly matter if the team won. But every match mattered to them, no matter with whom or when. They are here to show they are the best.

That's probably why everybody was taken by suprised when Azriel was clumsy on the ice and couldn't keep balance. His usually incredibly fast skating turned into woblly slow skating. It got that bad he himself decided not to play that day, saying that he just can't.

Azriel never exactly told anyone it was cause you didn't came to the game and weren't his lucky charm. But it was more than clear to anyone who isn't blind.

Since that day, you had to come to every game. And if you couldn't, well you suddenly could. Because Cassian has no problem with stealing you away and bringing you to the game

"No, Cass, I really can't come. I have to do this work. I can probably make it in time for third period, but I'm not sure." Explaning your reasons to Cassian was harder than anyone could ever imagine. He didn't understand that you had work that had to be done today or that your boss would literally kick you out. Sometimes, you feel like your boss is secret hater of your boyfriend, and that's why he tries to keep you in work longer, just on days when he plays. "You will come, we don't care about your opinion." Cassian responded stubborn as ever, "well I don't care about yours too. " With that, you left the call, finally doing papers given to you by the boss.

Ten minutes in someone barged into your office, putting you over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Cassian! What the hell are you doing?!" You yelled at him, keeping your anger at bay, or you would have to punch him. "Saving the match" confidence and pride dripping from his voice. You lifted up your head, looking at him with an annoyed look. "Fine." Crossing your arms letting out a sigh still swinging over his shoulder, "but I swear to gods, if I get fired, you will send me money every month"

Don't think that your relationship with Azriel is any secret or not medially famous. It's quite the opposite.

You two are the most famous and loved couple in hockey word. Sometimes, Rhysand is jokingly complaining about how you're stealing his spotlight and becoming more famous than the whole team.

People love to edit you two with cute songs and use every cute clip that is on the internet.

The most famous being moment where he is on the ice sending you kiss after scoring a goal. Or where someone recorded you two while skating on public ring, Azriel having to hold your hands so you don't fall. It resulted in both of you falling because some kid bumped into you.

Not to mention that Azriel loved taking you to all of his interviews. Like all of them.

Reporter wanting to have an interview with him without you? Nope, it's not happening. You two are double version, it's not possible to get one without the other.

"So Azriel, tell us, what was the biggest motivation for winning this match? Was there something - perhaps someone you won this for?" Azriel nodded his head and looked at you, love sparkling in his eyes. " Of course I did. Like every match. " The camera captures the way his hand snakes around your waist, with feathery like touches caressing it.

"I won it for my wife"

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fluff #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x yn #azriel x reader fluff #azriel fluff

[haunted-moon]

Long Way Home [Part X]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 7 here.

Read Part 2 here. Read Part 8 here.

Read Part 3 here. Read Part 9 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part X

My father had taught me that most illnesses could be broadly classified into two: diseases that had a tendency to spread, and the diseases that did not. 

While treating a patient with a spreadable illness, there was a high risk of the caretaker getting ill. To combat this, we had made some discoveries like: covering the nose and mouth while in contact with the patient, washing hands with soap frequently and general personal hygiene. It didn't make the caretaker infallible, but it did lessen the risk of spreading. 

Azriel didn't have a cold or any other illness that spread, so I was pretty safe from that. He had an unusually high temperature paired with aches, dizziness, tiredness, and a minor stomach issue. 

Rhys and Cassian winnowed Azriel to my bedroom and I helped them get him under the covers. Father had fetched a couple of bags of his clothing and other supplies which I'd need. They promised to visit frequently and left. 

I sat beside him on the bed, tears threatening to spill over again as I took him in. His skin had lost its colour, his wings looked limp and he was murmuring deliriously as we settled him in. Now he looked like he was in some kind of fitful sleep, his arms and torso jerking now and then. I leaned over and kissed his forehead, sending waves of reassurance through the bond. His body instantly relaxed and the jerking stopped. 

I let him sleep until I finished making lunch, consisting of steaming vegetable broth which was both light on the stomach and masked the taste of the bitter medicine he had to take. I toasted some bread for myself and took a tray upstairs. 

When I gently woke him up to eat, he had trouble staying conscious at first, but when he figured out that it was me, he fought hard to stay awake. I cradled his head against my collarbone and fed him the broth from a small bowl. He hadn't eaten in days, and I didn't want him to throw up the food. I let him lie back down after wiping his mouth with the hem of the shirt I was wearing. Then, I placed a cold compress on his head to ease some of the temperature.

The medicine started working after a few hours. His body started sweating and the temperature reduced to a manageable level. It was just as Cassian had said: it was quickly healable illness, but it had come to this level because he refused any medicine. I gently wiped the sweat away with a damp cloth, then applied a soothing balm to help restore some moisture to his dried skin and lips. 

As the sun dipped in the west, the villa's magic lit the candles and sconces for light. Azriel's ever present shadows weren't there, and his beautiful wings looked brittle and fragile in the candlelight. 

His temperature rose a bit, though not to the previous unmanageable state. After I made him have another bowl of the medicine spiked broth, I stayed up all night trying to keep him cool with damp cloths and cold compresses. Throughout the night, there were a few times when he seemed to have awoken, but it was just his delirium talking. He was far more relaxed now, and I stayed beside him and held his hand as he mumbled my name. 

I was waiting for the fever to break, which might help him return to proper consciousness. I kept a careful watch to make sure it was reducing and there were no sudden spikes in his temperature. 

Somewhere in middle, he also had a nightmare, I think. I couldn't get him to wake up, so I held his hand physically and also reached out through the bond. 

Finally, the fever broke on the cusp of dawn, just as the morning birds were getting ready to herald a new day. His nightmare also seemed to have eased, and he was now calm. I had the sensation that he had reached out to me through our mating bond, as we were holding each both mentally and physically. 

After another round of wiping sweat, I laid down next to him for a quick nap before breakfast. I had to take care of myself too to take care of my sick mate properly. 

My body was tired from the all the work, and the nap turned into two hours of sleep. The morning sunlight was spilling through the open French windows when I opened my eyes. Cassian, Rhys, and my father were on the other side of the bed, and Azriel seemed to be awake. He was propped by pillows and talking to my father in low tones. 

They stopped talking and turned to me when I sat up and stretched. Azriel looked better now, not like a dead body as I had seen him yesterday. His eyes showed apprehension as he watched me. 

I merely stood up and walked to the door. There was a long conversation to be had, but first, Azriel had to get healthy. It could wait until that. 

"I'm making breakfast, hope you three will stay for that," I nodded at the others and made my way downstairs. 

I made some savoury vegetable oats, buttered toast and put the kettle to boil water for tea. Rhys, Cassian and father made their way down just as I was finishing up. They looked a bit suspicious to me, glancing at each other and then telling me that they'll serve themselves, and I should go just ahead and take a plate to Azriel. 

They wanted us to talk and clear it out. Sighing, I carried a tray upstairs. 

Azriel was lying back down when those three had left, but he raised his head at my entrance. When he noticed it was me, he started to push himself upright. I moved to help arrange the pillows behind his back so he was comfortable and sat down next to him. 

His body was still weak, and his hands trembled, so I fed him the food I had brought. 

"How are you feeling?" I asked after a couple of spoons. 

Instead of answering the question, he looked me directly in the eyes. "From the first time I saw you, I haven't had a proper night's sleep."

I exhaled audibly, returning the spoon to the bowl and waiting for him to go on. 

"You were alone and nervous during Rhys's treatment without your father present. But still, you never showed it on your face and saved him. And when you shifted to the House, you were a ray of sunshine that brought a smile to everyone's face."

I looked away from his intense gaze. "Never on your face, though."

"You've made me smile and laugh so many times that I've lost count."

I wasn't buying it, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? And somehow I happened to not see even one of those alleged smiles?"

He replied to this statement with a goddamn smile. 

I wasn't amused. I wanted to smash the bowl I was holding into his face.

I reined in my rising anger. Maybe I wasn't ready for this conversation yet. I needed more time to sort out my thoughts. 

I shoved another spoonful of oats into his mouth before he could say another word. Placing the bowl back on the tray, I pushed it onto his lap and stood up. He could eat on his own. 

"Finish eating and take rest," I started towards the door. 

"Y/n, please, wait. Listen to me—"

I whirled on him so fast that he instantly stopped. "Say another word and I'll poison your next meal and shove it down your throat. You can't just ignore me for months, giving uninterested replies to my attempts at conversation, then reject me when we found out that we were mates. As if that wasn't enough, you have the fucking audacity to FALL SICK AND HAVE ME TAKE CARE OF YOU! JUST FUCKING SHUT UP AND LET ME BE!"

I banged the door shut behind me and stomped down the stairs, breathing heavily from my outburst. 

Rhys, Cassian and my father were at the base of the stairs, trying to eavesdrop on our conversation, I guess. They scattered like mice when they saw my murderous expression. Rhys started wiping down the table, Cassian was furiously scrubbing at the dishes and father was straightening things up. 

I was amused at Rhys and Cassian. Never thought the High Lord and his commander would be doing a domestic chore in my house out of fear. 

Fetching a bowl from a cabinet, I scooped some food in it and sat down at the table after Rhys was done. I set the bowl down hard enough to make the table rattle. The anger was still present. They all started inching towards the front door. 

"You're welcome to my house anytime," I said in a low, controlled voice, making them stand still. "But the next time you even attempt to patch things up between me and Azriel, I'll poison your food and turn your dead bodies into compost for my fruit orchard. And that includes you, father."

They all nodded wordlessly and tripped over each other trying to hurry outside. 

Well. 

Good thing to know that my anger rattled even the best of the High Lords in Prythian.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006 @fightmedraco @lees-chaotic-brain @thesunloveschips

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 11 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

[Thank you for your patience as I know I was late in uploading these parts. I love you all very much <3]

#writing #creative writing #acomaf #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x yn #cassian #fanfiction #wattpad stories #wattpad fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fiction writing #azriel x reader #azriel x femalereader #acotar fanfic #Elaine archeron #nesta archeron #amren #rhysand #prythian #Sarah j maas #short stories #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #text posts

[highladyof-prythian]

Reborn Series Masterlist

Art Credits to: @heyovivi​ 

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After Tamlin helps Y/N out of his fathers grasp. He fakes her death and helps her disappear. But what happens when she reappears and reconnects with the Inner Circle and her brother. 

Warnings: Severe Trauma, Blood, Gore, Crying. Please Do Not Read If You Are Not Comfortable With Any Of These Topics.

Chapter 1- Clipped Wings

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x sister #azriel x yn #acotar #azriel x y/n

[lyssasdrafts]

WATCHING THEM FALL FOR SOMEONE ELSE — acotar boys

characters: rhysand, cassian, azriel, & lucien x gn! reader

includes: angst, unrequited love, jealousy, open ended for rhys & lulu

note: not proof read, i wrote this when i was upset so idk if it makes sense, trying out a different style/format

RHYSAND - misunderstanding

rhysand is someone who constantly has to deal with pressure on him. from his family, from his work, it all never ends. you were a breath of fresh air for him. you filled those gaps in his day where he could just be himself.

maybe it was foolish for you to believe you could occupy any more space than that. some people in life aren’t meant to be significant, but simply someone you can pass some time with.

“i’m sorry,” he muttered. the only time you had ever heard him stutter and look away from you when he spoke. “i just have a lot going on right now.”

you decide to just accept the rejection. you hadn’t asked to stay in touch, or to still be friends. you didnt want to bother troubling him anymore than you already did from his busy life. you just nodded, said you understood and left.

weeks later he’s on your doorstep, ringing your doorbell and tapping his foot anxiously against the concrete ground for you to come out. “but i can make time for you,” he wanted to say. until he suddenly gets a message calling him in for an emergency. by the time you had come and opened your door, you were just faced with an empty doorframe and no trace of rhysand but his footsteps.

CASSIAN - waiting too long to confess

cassian was someone that caught your eye from the moment you had met. he was always someone in the back of your mind, but his presence there had only increased the more you got to know each other. he’s someone you became more comfortable with overtime until you’d find yourself actively trying to get closer to him and wanting to learn more about him.

you had still never heard from him about his mother or how he met his friends. on why he’s still willing to take on everyone else’s burdens despite his own struggles. and perhaps you never would after hearing about him being with someone else.

perhaps you had stalled too long to confess, to actually talk to him about something that wasn’t jokes and banter. someone else beat you to it.

you think of all the chances you’d had, that time everyone else had left you two alone at rhy’s house or that time he’d offered to bring you home, and maybe instead of wondering about him, you could’ve actually seen for yourself.

AZRIEL - unrequited/one sided love

azriel was never someone who had a lot to say, always the first one to leave and the last one to arrive. all your friends scoffed at you for liking such a mysterious guy.

you had been an acquaintance for some time, always noticing the little ways he would smile at you or stay behind to make small talk. maybe it was just all in your head, but part of you felt like you could actually get to him.

you felt that the reason he kept giving you the cold shoulder was just because he tends to be nervous right? the reason he always gave you short and rigid responses.

when you see him leaning against a wall talking with someone else, laughing with them, probably letting them in all the way when you’d wished he would just give you an inch, that’s when you’d realized how wrong you had been.

LUCIEN - giving him up willingly

watching lucien fall in love again is like losing your best friend. you knew you weren’t ready to pursue him and to commit to a relationship, so you let him go.

you still remember that look he gave you, the way the light in his eyes had died when you told you that you felt the same but wanted to wait. maybe he did deserve someone better than you, someone who wouldn’t string him along for who knows how long.

“you should go for it,” you smile as you nudge him to talk to someone else. he gives you a look, as if hes waiting for approval, giving you one last chance to take him back and ask him not to leave. you don’t, but instead your smile drops when you watch him look at someone else with that same gaze.

slowly the distance between the two of you grew, more and more of his time being taken up by someone who could actually give him a relationship. losing lucien didn’t just mean losing a lover, but your best friend too.

#acotar x you #acotar x reader #— love lyssa #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #night court x you #night court x reader #bat boys x reader #bat boys #rhysand acotar #rhysand #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x yn #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #high lord rhysand #bat boys x you #acotar au #acotar x yn #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #cassian acosf #azriel acosf #lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien x y/n #autumn court

[sourholland]

this is my updated masterlist! i included everyone i still write for (even if it was past work). so please keep in mind some of this writing is like four years old and not a reflection of my writing now

here is my old masterlist, it is a collection of all of my previous writing even if i don’t write for the person anymore.

requests always open // navigation

updated: 4/26/2024

☂️ - angst, ☁️ - fluff, 🪩 - contains smut

one shots

☂️ last kiss: based off taylor swift’s song, the aftermath of ending a movie set situationship with tom

☁️i’m sure: you hide a relationship with tom from the public and he shows up to one of your fashion shows

☂️desperate: tom is drunkenly jealous and makes a confession

☂️don’t: years pass after your relationship with tom ends and you get engaged

series

☂️🪩☁️a royal convenience: (complete!) when an alliance is made between england and france, you are sent away to marry the crown prince and heir to the british throne. except both you and prince thomas despise each other at all odds, subjected to the hand of the monarchy and unable to stand each other.

☂️🪩glamorous: (on hold!) in this princess diana retelling, you are working in a nursery school as an aid in london, as well as a part time nanny. with slight aristocratic ties, you choose to live a more normal and mundane life. when the prince of wales comes to know you and bring you into the spotlight, everything changes. truths coming too late, lies straining your relationship, and the impending future of the country falling on your shoulders. is this really the stuff of which fairytales are made?

old blurbs are all located on my old masterlist!

one shots

series

☂️🪩☁️style: (ongoing!) he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

blurbs

grapejuice

one shots

☂️click: azriel has pined after mor for centuries, however you share a mating bond that neither of you address

series

☂️🪩☁️guilty as sin (ongoing!) the lost princess of the dawn court finds herself brazenly escaping her own personal living hell. seeking refuge, as well as peace to plot in the city of velaris—she meets azriel shadowsinger and through the throws of disdain and discomfort they are forced to work side by side, intertwined through their shared scars.

coming soon!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland au #joe burrow blurbs #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x yn #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow imagine #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel

[readychilledwine]

Housewife

✨️Kink education with Elizabeth✨

The Housewife kink, also known as the 1950s Household, is a power play exchange dynamic that typically involves a dom and service sub. It is characterized by one partner being seen as a homemaker and one as the breadwinner. During the 1950s, the homemaker’s “job” was to take care of the household chores, dinner, children (if they had any), and following norms, their husband's needs all while being the picture perfect example of soft femininity and breedability.

Subs partaking in this form of play tend to wear dresses, heels, aprons, ect, while maintaining a clean home and cooking. Many people enjoy this dynamic due to its ability to come into real-life play instead of just hiding in the bedroom.

It is one form kink play that does not necessarily have to be sexual, but that's not why we're all here 👀

NSFW BELOW CUT

💕Peep Valentines Day Bingo Here 💕

Azriel x Reader

Summary - After a long day of interrogations, Azriel is more than pleased to come home to dinner made, a clean home, and a pretty wife.

Warnings - sub and dom dynamics, references to completely power exchange play, oral (mreceiving), slightly demeaning behavior towards females

A/N - I apologize for the delay. My little is going through a growth spurt and a little fussy today. Plus, it took FOREVER to find the perfect gif.

Azriel opened the door to his cabin. His shoulders were slumped forward, wings hanging slightly lower than normal.

It had been a rough day. He had been torturing the same prisoner for 3 days now. They refused to yield, they refused to break, and they refused to bend and give the shadowsinger what he wanted.

He knew that all would change the second he saw you, though. You were currently setting dinner on the table. Your hair was softly curled and pinned back, a soft touch of makeup graced your face highlighting his favorite features of yours.

You were wearing a blue sundress the flowed out at the bottom with heels and a blue bow in your hair.

“How's my wife today?” He took pleasure in knowing you would not address him until he addressed you. He took pleasure in knowing that within seconds of hearing his voice, you were trained to get him a glass of whiskey and greet him with a kiss.

“Azriel, you're home early,” you immediately went to the liquor counter, dress swaying as you did. You poured him a finger of whiskey, moving to add ice before walking to him and kissing his cheek. “How was your day?”

Azriel drank as you began removing his outer heavy layer for him, watching like a hawk as you hung his coat and placed his already kicked off boats into the precise place he had told you they go.

“Same prisoner as yesterday,” he watched you blink in confusion. “The bastard will not break and submit. Did you make dinner?”

You nodded enthusiastically, walking him to the table and getting him a plate. “I made your favorite.”

Azriel settled into the couch after dinner, watching you as you cleaned dishes. Every soft movement of your dress had his eyes locked on the hem. Each time you'd reach forward slightly, he was rewarded with a glimpse at the garter belt straps that connected to the satin tops of your thigh highs. It was a constant reminder to him that you were his present, waiting to be unwrapped so delicately as a reward for your continued obedient behavior.

“Angel,” he spoke softly. “Are all your chores done after this?”

It should have bothered you as a wingless Illyrian female to hand over submission so willingly out of hope you'd be rewarded with your mate's cock pounding into you over and over, but instead knowing you were about to be rewarded, that he was about to use you like a pretty cock sleeve, that had your thighs pressing together. “They are. Unless you wanted me to do something else.” A cool shadow began swirling your leg. Its touch was like soft kisses and left shivers in its wake.

Azriel leaned back, watching his shadow go on its mission, watching as you took a gasp, spine going straight before moaning his name. “Let me know when you finish.” He placed an arm on the back of the couch, scenting your arousal filling the air as you whimpered and went back to the last few dishes.

It wasn't fair. Trying to focus on scrubbing and rinsing as a shadow sat vibrating against your lace covered clit was nearly impossible. 5 dishes, you reminded yourself. He lets you leave them overnight to dry. Just 5 more. You focused on the dishes, doing the best you could to ignore the growing wetness between your thighs.

You almost jumped as rough hands ran up your arms. “My pretty little wife. My mate,” one of his hands wrapped and held your throat. His other hand ran down your chest, through the valley of your breasts, before settling on your hip. He started placing soft kisses along your neck, your ear. “How lucky am I to have such an obedient wife taking care of my home?” He squeezed your throat softly before his other hand began lifting Your dress. The hand on your throat moved to join the other one as he moved you away From the sink and to a different section of countertop, bending you over it and place one hand at the back of your neck to hold you Down. He groaned as his shadows held up that pretty dress, exposing those sapphire lace panties

"The dishes," you panted.

"Can wait. I can't. I've been hard since I walked in to you setting the table wearing my color, wearing a little bow tying your hair back like some innocent little thing." Your panties were moved to the side. Two fingers began to run the length of your core as Azriel groaned behind you. "So fucking wet I've hardly done anything."

You heard a muffled moan and could only assume he had put his fingers into his mouth. "So sweet, baby." You could hear him undoing his pants, feel as the head of his cock ran your folds. You could feel down the bond that it would be a long night.

You gasped loudly, gripping the counter with a mix between a moan and scream as he pushed into the hilt. Azriel wasted no time, threading one hand into your hair and pulling while the other held your hip. Azriel growled as you wiggled slightly, causing you to still. "Such a good little wife."

He wasted no time, setting a pace that had your toes curling in those heels that made your ass look phenomenal. Shadows quickly moved to hold the dress up, allowing the hand on your hip to move to your still covered clit.

There was something freeing about being below him, serving him, being used by him. It was enough for that coil to tighten faster as your mind went blank, focusing on nothing but the feeling of his heavy hard cock hitting every nerve inside of you, angling until he found the spot that had you scream his name.

Despite the roughness he fucked you with, the power you were freely handing to him, Azriel still sent wave after wave of his love, his admiration, and his pride down the bond. With each wave, that coil got tighter and tighter, your moans louder and more desperate as your body felt like it was on fire. "Be a good wife and cum for me," his fingers pressed down on that bundle of nerves, hips pistoning into you even faster as you screamed his name, walls milking his cock.

Azriel pulled out instead of following you over the ledge, ripping that dress off of you and leaving you in the lingerie and heels. He lifted you into his arms while you still came down from the high, your vision almost blurred.

You felt the soft bed under you, smelling the fresh sheets you had just changed hours ago. Azriel smelled them too as he positioned you with your head hanging off the bed. "You spoil me," his hands ran to your breasts, squeezing and tweaking your nipples.

His cock sat heavy and leaking near your face, soaked in your release, "Open." You smiled, opening your mouth wide, allowing him to push in just as two fingers slid into your heat.

He was gentle this time, for now at least, fucking your throat. You ran your tongue along his length, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him. You were at his mercy, wiggling and moaning around him as the wet noises of his cock in your mouth and his fingers thrusting in and out of you echoed with his moans and occasional whimper.

His pace picked up as his fingers did, making him chuckle in satisfaction as you gagged around him. "You deserve a reward for how hard you worked today, don't you, y/n?" He groaned as you moaned around him, vibrating his cock as he held it deep in your throat. "Not a single thing out of place, every chore finished, and I came home to you looking like a delicious treat? What a good little wife." You felt your vision getting slightly blurry until he pulled out again, your pleasure almost maddening as he avoided the spongy spot inside of you and brushed your swollen clit with ghost like touches. "That's what you are isn't it? No thoughts in that pretty mind of yours but pleasing me and taking my cock like an obedient whore?"

You would have nodded, begging him to give you what you needed as you agreed to every word, but his cock was still occupying and twitching in your mouth. You knew from the way his fingers had become messier in their rhythm, from the way his words were getting breathy, from how each moment of your throat burning as he held himself deep inside grew longer and longer that he was close.

You had been dreaming of his all day. Dreaming for your reward for dusting, for cooking, for cleaning. The reward you'd get when he came home to a spotless house, to his laundry done, to you wearing your pretty outfit for him.

His fingers curled into the spot you needed, pressing and tapping there as shadows curled and flicked your nipples and his thumb ran gentle circles on your clit. You finished within seconds with no warning, crying around his cock, hands fisting the sheets.

Azriel fell over the edge soon after, spilling with his cock shoved all the way into your mouth forcing you to swallow what you could, head thrown back as his wings flared and he moaned your name without shame.

He pulled out, fisting the exposed length and allowing the last of his cum to land on your face, admiring the mess of drool, makeup, and his seed you had become. His fingers left your cunt, going to his own mouth as he licked them clean with a smile. He watched as your hand waved and the bathtub began to fill.

"I'm not done with you yet," he panted, hands trailing your body.

You smiled, your own hands running up and down his thighs. "I counted in that, but let me take care of your other needs first."

Azriel looked up, a wide smile on his face as he sent a silent prayer to whoever blessed you with acts of service as your love language. "I would really like that."

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish

@novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer

As always- please let me know if you would like to be added to a taglist 💜

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x yn #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

[thehighladywrites]

— “He clearly doesn’t want you!”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy/popular reader

☀︎ — summary: after yoga class you and your friends run into a sweaty, hot, big armed Azriel.

☀︎ — warnings: fluff, azriel get’s hit on by creepy friend, reader punches someone, possessiveness, protective reader, secret relationships come to light, kisses and hugs

☀︎ — amara’s note: thank u guys for the patience, the next one will be smutty👀👀💗

series masterlist

“Oh my god, who is that?” Letty, your sorta friend, exclaims, eyeing the figure behind you from head to toe.

You blink, tilting your head and squinting as if trying to figure out a puzzle. "Who?"

As heads turn to see, anticipation fills the air. The man stands with his back to you, but there's something unmistakable about his shoulders, the way he carries himself. It's Azriel, unmistakably, his muscular frame reminding you of the intimate moments you've shared.

It was yoga day, so you headed to your weekly session at the gym. Never did you imagine you’d see Azriel using some fancy machine. You didn’t even know your boyfriend worked out here; sure, you knew he did, but not here. He looked incredibly good, although you were aware that your so-called friends only looked at his body. If they knew who said body belonged to, they would totally roll their eyes.

It seriously irked you because they never even glanced at campus, but now they were drooling over him. Like, hello? He's totally yours, and it's so annoying to see them fawning over him. Ugh, seriously, can they not see he's off-limits?

"Okay, let’s—let’s just go, I wanna get some food. I'm sooo hungry," you say with a dramatic flair, clutching your stomach and fluttering your eyelashes.

Letty shakes her head, still gazing at your boyfriend. "Hmm, no, I think I’ll go say hi," she says determined, twirling a strand of her hair.

She walks over, putting a hand on his back, making him jump. The move makes you feel murderous as you observe how Azriel is so very obviously uncomfortable. How dare she?

"Hi, I haven’t seen you around. Are you new?" she asks, her hand still lingering on his back.

"Get your hand off of me, you are making me quite uncomfortable," Azriel responds firmly.

"Yeah? We could,like, leave and get comfortable in other ways," she suggests with a suggestive smile.

"Um, I’m good. I really don’t want to leave with you. I’m not available." Azriel replies, his discomfort palpable.

"Oh, come on—"

"Um, hello??? What part of 'no' are you not getting? He clearly doesn't want you," you say with a cute furrow between your perfectly shaped brows, your glossy lips pursing as you cross your arms over your chest, stepping closer to Azriel.

Letty and the rest of your soon-to-be ex-friends look between the three of you with comically large brows.

“Azriel is my boyfriend, and he loves me a lot, and I love him even more, there’s no way he’s going with you. He's mine and mine only, so if any of that clicked for you, i’m going to need you to get your Dollar Tree nails off of him, like right now.” you declare, narrowing your eyes at them, your possessive tone leaving no room for doubt about your feelings for him.

They had never seen you like this before. Usually, you were bubbly, ditzy, a little stupid, but never possessive, cold, and jealous.

Letty lets out a demeaning laugh, looking back at the group who soon start to laugh at demand like dogs.

“Did you say Azriel? That teachers pet guy in your math class? Y/n, do you think I’m stupid? This man is hot, that disgusting loser from your math class is a social reject who’s probably a closeted perv—“

Her words grate on your nerves, and you're fed up with her bitchy attitude. Without another thought, you ball up your fist and punch her straight in the face, of course, very careful of your nails.

Azriel startles a little, pulling you in by the waist before Letty tries something.

“You bitch, you broke my nose!” she yells, clutching her bleeding nose.

You shrug, attempting to wriggle out of Azriel's iron grip to no avail. “You should be thanking me, I mean, your botched nose job needed an upgrade anyway. I’d suggest Dr. Heartman for the fix-up!” you yell the last bit as Azriel drags you away to a secluded corner.

Azriel doesn’t let you go until your erratic breathing has calmed down, and you look up at him with those familiar loved out eyes he loves.

“You okay?” he asks carefully, his brow furrowing with worry.

“Yeah, I’m good. M’sorry you had to see me like that,” you say with a pouty expression, your voice a bit airy. You flash him those adorable doe eyes, your shoulders sagging as you twist your lips.

He nods, still looking concerned. “It’s all good, sweetheart. But are you sure? You didn’t have to do that for me,” he says, his worry evident in his endearing, caring demeanor.

You melted. Even though he was getting uncomfortable and hit on, he was still checking on you. As sweet as it was, you wanted to be the one caring for him in this moment.

“Oh, babe, I would like totally do anything for you! I am so freaking in love with you, I’d totally give up my entire closet for you. And trust me, that’s like, a big deal,” you say with a girly giggle, knowing just how much your clothes meant to you.

But your love for clothes would never ever come close to the love you felt for Azriel.

“But what now? Your friends know about me.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “So? You're not some dirty secret. I want people to know about you.”

“Yeah?”

You got closer, dropped your water bottle and bag before standing on your tippy toes, pressing a sweet, tender kiss on his lips, your heart fluttering with affection.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he returned the kiss. “Thank you, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, never worry about her again, Azzie. I will so punch her if she even dares to look at you,” you declared with fierce determination.

Azriel looked down at you, a tender smile gracing his lips as he kissed the tip of your nose. “I feel safer already. How about we go get some ice cream? Maybe make out in the car?”

Your eyes lit up with excitement, and a wide grin spread across your face. He had really gotten more comfortable with expressing his wants and it made you so proud and happy

“I’m so in!”

He changed quickly, holding your hand as you walked out of the gym. As you strolled down the street, he finally voiced the question that had been on his mind.

“So, uh, Dr. Heartman any good?”

You couldn't help but smirk mischievously, lifting your chin. “The absolute worst.”

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl l @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwyniii @scoobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria @hannzoaks

#talkswithamara #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #az x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #azriel x bimbo reader #azriel x fem reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader fluff #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #the sessions series #nerd azriel #acotar x bimbo reader

[harrystylesfan2686]

Stay With Me Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the aftermath of your fall.

Warning: Unedited.

A/N: I know I've got those dialogue fics to write and I will!! But I just couldn't resist giving these babies their happy ending.😭

Part 1 Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

The first thing you feel as consciousness seeps into you is the warmth of laying on something soft. Then the pain came, not much but a dull ach felt from your abdomen. You try to open your eyes but the sunlight coming from the windows make you squint and turn your head to the side.

The light suddenly goes away and you a hear a rough voice, "You're awake." Your eyes finally open, slowing the darkness fadding into light as you look around and try you see where you are at. A room that looks like one you have comes into view and you look at the source of the voice.

Azriel stands near the window, curtains closed, signaling he shut them upon seeing your discomfort. Unsure of what to say, you try to sit up. Groaning where the ach in your stomach increases slightly. "Careful. You're still not completely healed." Az comes to your side, kneeling beside the bed and helps you lean on the bedrest.

He silently removes the cap from a glass of water beside you on the table and lifts if up to your mouth, quietly ordering you to drink it. You obey, taking small sips and hum when the strache in your throat eases. He puts the glass back to it's place when you finish and you use the time to observe him.

Something terrible must've happened because there are dark circles around his eyes and his pale skin implies he hasn't eaten well in days. His hair and clothes are touloused and you try to not stare at his distressed look. He's rarely ever not out of shape so seeing him like this shocks you a little.

You are still staring at him when he looks back to you and everything comes back to you. The storm, the fall, the trap and the blood. Your eyes widen as you remember everything and look down at yourself. Your shoots out to touch the place where your injury would've been, but when you feel nothing, your skin healed except for gaint holes scars lining up your body, you frown in confusion.

Surely a wound that bad wouldn't have healed in a night, how long were you asleep?

"It's mostly healed but you'll still feel discomfort and dizziness for a while." Azriel says, you feel his eyes on you.

"How long was I alseep?" You trace the scars lightly, feeling minor sensations, ignoring the fact that only a small piece of undergarment is covering your breasts and the rest of your upper body is bare.

"Three days." Your head snaps to look at him. "Three days?!" You eco, voice pitching high in shock.

"Madja said that the pikes of the trap had poison in them, prolonging your pain and preventing your body to heal itself. That's why you couldn't wake up and you will still feel the effects of it for days." His voice sounding strained.

"Oh." You sigh.

"Eris said that during Amarantha's rule, traps like the one we saw were made, to keep safe from the monsters she unleashed. Most of them were taken out but the there were some left, which couldn't be because people forgot where they were put. The one you fell into was one of them." He lifts his hand to hold yours, gently moving circles on the back of your arm with his thumb.

"Eris didn't seem at all guilty about not telling us, that bastard." His jaw clenched in anger.

"It's alright Az." Your try to calm him.

"No. It's not. Your could've bloody died. How can you forgive him so easily?" The look is his eyes promises death as he looks at you but you don't fear him knowing this time the anger isn't directed to you.

"I don't forgive him. But there was no way he could've known I'd fall into one."

"No but he could've at least warned us! You nearly died Y/N! Do you realize how I miserable I felt in that moment. When I saw you in It's hold, I felt a kind of panic I have never felt before. And the blood. I didn't know what do to. I would've done anything to save you then, even if I had to give my soul, I would've."

You can't seem to recall words as you look at him. He shakes his head and looks down, avoiding your eyes, glancing between your scares and his hand that's cluching onto yours.

"Darling, I-" Hearing the very nickname he often used to mock you with, now laced with fear for you makes your heart skip a beat. "The sight of you laying like that, defenseless in the pool of your own blood, barely breathing-" His face wholly crumbles. You don't say anything, letting him lay his heart bare for you.

"It has been haunting me. Since the second Rhysand got to us and Magda healed you. I have been dying to see your eyes again, see you frown at me and tuant me-" His voice cracks as tears start falling down his face. "I love you so much. Please don't ever leave me like that again. I'll die if you don't stay with me."

You hug him the second he finishes speaking, wrapping arm around his waist and the other to his neck, burying your fingers in his hair and his hugs you back, crushing his body to yours and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Hearing soft cries, you cannot control your own. Each other's tears soaking you both as you bask in the others arms.

"I will never leave you, Azriel." After a moment you pull back, just a little to look into his eyes so that he can see the truth and love in them. "I love you so much. I will always stay with you, even if you tell me not too." He nods once whimpering out a small please, as if that's all he can say right now, and your heart breaks.

"I love you. So much." You kiss his forehead, moving down to his cheeks and nose, you're both hands now at the sides of his face and his can't seem to leave your waist. "My mate." You both smile, laughing a little and you look at him. Truly look at him, admiring his yellow onyx eyes that gloss from the tears pooling in them, loving the way he's watching you with so much love.

"I love you, Azriel." You kiss him, slowing resting your lips to his, pouring all your love into it and promising yourselves to the other forever.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Tagging: @that-one-little-soybean

#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel x yn #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic

[gamarancianne]

Azriel x reader - In Between part 2

Part 1

Summary: trying to regain your confidence after your broken heart, you met someone in the same position as you and developped one of the best friendships you had ever had. A genuine and sincere friendship. But this person may be closer by other ways to you than you thought.

Warnings: still angst, alcohol in a not healthy way, heartbreak again, hypocrite Elain (kinda slander ig), Lucien being the best.

Note: well maybe a part 3 ig 😅, I was really inspired tbh. Thank you all for having loved the part 1 and shared it with me ! Ily 💗💗 and don't hesitate to ask me something or chat with me in my inbox or dm, or in the comments !

You had been a crying mess for two weeks now, sometimes you went out in a bar to drink so much you would forget even your name. That was the point, forget the constant sting in your heart and you head. Forget him, his beautiful Hazel eyes and inked tattoos on his broad and golden chest. And here we go again: the tears flooded themselves on your face. It was a day to drink today, or tonight, you didn't really have a time notion for the past two weeks: waking up at dawn or dusk, eating, crying and sleeping. You had to forget about all those beautiful things about him, you had to empty your brain and heart. You didn't want to feel something again.

As you were walking to the nearest bar, you thought about those letters elain had sent you, saying you were her dearest friend and asking if your confession went well. You knew she knew that it was you in her apartment that cursed day, but she still pretended and even was saying the complete opposite of what she had said to azriel, falsely comforting you. Was she ever was your friend at this point ? Or has she always criticised and stabbed you behind you back ? Anyway you had decided that it was way better for you to ignore her and keep living your life, if you could still call what you were living a life, without her.

You didn't even noticed when you had arrived in front the door of the bar, but you did and entered, going directly to your now favorite spit in front of the barman : the alcohol was there easier to get. You didn't see then, the redhead man who was at the exact place you had been the few days prior. How dare he steal your chair like that ? Approaching slowly you stilled and you understood that this man was surely in the same situation as you, a heartbreak, seeing his bent frame and the many empty glasses in front of him. They could only have been his because no one was seated near him, and everyone was judging him. They were all avoiding the poor man whose name you didn't know.

"I was almost mad at you for stealing my favourite seat" you stated, seating next to him as his head shot to your side wondering if you were really talking to him.

"Yes I'm talking to you"

"Ah, I'm sorry for your seat do you want it back ?" He asked, genuinely embarrassed, his cheeks flushed.

"No I'm fine here, I can speak with you ...?" You asked ?

"Lucien".

"I'm yn, and as I was saying, I can speak with you here Lucien" he nodded.

"Nice to meet you yn, but you don't wanna talk to me, don't you see all the glares everyone sends me here ?" He drank in a one shot what seemed to be whisky and stared again at his now empty glass.

"Oh gods you men !" He looked at you confused "I know what I'm doing fuck ! I'm a grown up woman and I can make my own choices ! You re the second on in two weeks who tells me what I want or not." You snapped.

"Oh I'm sorry, then stay if you want." He apologized quickly.

You asked shots to the barman and stayed silent a bit nefore you both asked in one voice "what are you here for ?". You two chuckled a bit before you said "you first".

"Well I've kinda learnt that my mate, who knows that she is my mate is dating someone else. And I feel like I'm not allowed to have just once an ounce of happiness." You were hurt for him as you heard his story that he told you with a careless demeanor. He must really be at his lowest.

"Ouch that hurts, I'm sorry man. She's a fool if you want my opinion." He smiled sadly at your answer and pointed you from his chin asking you silently your story.

"Well im heartbroken as well, my best friend encouraged me confessing to the man I love, but he rejected me, and not in a nice way. But as lucky as I am, I learnt that he is dating my best friend who is a back stabber." I emptied my glass in one drink.

"Ouch that hurts too, I'm sorry." He said echoing my words.

We spent the night drinking, and drowning ourselves in alcohol but in a more joyful way than usually.

I then went more and more at the bar to see him, but we drank less and less, leaving place to real conversations between us. It became quickly a routine, and Lucien became one of my best friends, well my only friend of the time actually. And I was one of his only friend as well. Two broken hearts healing parts of eachothzr then didn't even break. Lucien had explained to me his family problem, and how his former male best friend was a toxic man in relationships, how he had been poorly treated in his biological family, and how his actual best friend was his mate's sister so he didn't know how to approach her anymore. He came a lot in my appartment to spend time with me, he even slept in sometimes, because he couldn't face his current family. He practically had his room in your home, some of his stuff never really left.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After 2 knocks on your door you unwillingly got off your couch and opened it letting a wild and out of breath Lucien appear in front of it.

"Lu ? Are you okay ?" That was his new nickname, he loved it, because he felt like he was loved for once in his life.

"Yes.. no ? I need you to come with me like right now ! "

"Oh okay let me get me keys and I'm coming" you trusted Lucien too much to ever doubt about him, if he needed you then you were there for him.

You left your apartment and went to the direction he indicated. After a while you panicked a little, seeing that you were going to the high lord's house.

"Lucien you know I love you but where are we going?"

"To a family dinner, I can't go alone. See, my mate's relationship got complicated and she always complains to me when I'm alone, which is all the time. So I feel like I'm just a plan b and I'm really uncomfortable when she does it. Don't worry I've told them that someone was going with me."

"I understand Lu, but at the high lord's ?" You asked sceptical.

"Well yes, because my best friend I told you about is Feyre."

"What ?" Lucien, had never told the names of his family members, and you neither, so discovering that his friend was you high lady so that you were going to see Azriel made you weak to the bones.

"Lucien ? Your mate is Elain ??"

"What, yes ? How do you know ??" He exclaimed as he stopped on his tracks.

"She is the fake friend I told you about !" You answered on the same tone.

"So it means that.."

"I am in love with Azriel... yes."

"Oh gods" you both sighed.

"Hum yn ?" He asked unsure of what to say.

"Mmh"

"Have I told you that Cassian and him were the ones to get us to the house?"

"No, no, no. Please no ! But what would we even need to be picked up ?"

"We can't winnow so it's either that or climb 10 000 stairs".

Both fearing the fast approaching dinner, the last part of the walk was silent and the air heavy with tension. You held your breath when you saw two winged big figures, Cassian and Azriel. The first one shot his head in your direction and smiled confused.

"Yn ?" Azriel stiffened as he heard your name. "What does owe us the pleasure to see you ?"

"I'm the one to go with Lu today but I didn't know it was with you...". Azriel froze completely still turning his back to you. He wasn't sure it was you but now it was certain and he couldn't face you after the mean things he had said to your face. He hadn't talked about it to anyone except Elain and he kinda regretted it now. Things had got complicated between them because after your love confession she had grown so much jealous! He couldn't bear it anymore, he was a free man, he hadn't wings for nothing! They would argue a lot more and he hated that because it triggered bad memories in him. Plus he felt a bit bad about you. You hadn't done anything to him to deserve to be treated that way, he was ashamed of his actions because he knew that, as insecure as you seemed to be, you might have been spiralling since. That wasn't him, that wasn't how he was supposed to be. When he got Elain, she changed him a lot, and he wasn't sure anymore that it was for the good. She crushed all of his efforts to keep the bad parts of him inside. He was meaner, colder, he wasn't himself. Rhys have scolded him a little about that and he had really reacted in a bad way. An evidence of what Rhys had advanced. Azriel was sure he had made you feel bad, and he didn't want it : you were a nice and smart female, a little clumsy but still beautiful and lovely. As he finally turned to you, all of his regret splashed on him when crossing your look and seeing you pained eyes. You quickly put your head down and he felt even more bad to have made lose enough confidence for you to fear to hold his gaze. Thinking about it, he didn't understand you insecurity of the beginning, before the altercation. How could you, a very beautiful female, ever doubt about yourself ?

Realisation hit him, that he would have to take you flying because it would be awkward if he took Lucien, his girlfriend's mate. He knew she was complaining to him, and he felt even sorry for the poor Lucien. But a question lingered in his mind: how did you two know eachother ? And why the fuck would Lucien bring you to a family dinner ? Were you dating ? Fear crossed his eyes for a second before regaining his composure. You couldn't be dating Lucien, it was impossible, you had just said two weeks ago that you loved him. Could you have moved that fast ? It frightened him, knowing that he had grown to like you when thinking of your shared moments at training, where you two had laughed, sometimes until crying joy tears, and regretting the mean rejection he had given you in return of something so intimate and innocent as your love and devotion for him. Damn him he had even insulted you ! He cursed himself more and more until he got out of his head when Cassian called him.

"Azriel wake up ! You take yn." He said when shooting in the sky Lucien in his arms.

You both stayed in an awkward bubble, without moving an inch, avoiding the gaze of one another, for 30 long seconds that felt like hours.

"I'm sorry" and "so how are you doing" came at the same time from him side you. You awkwardly chuckled but he stayed still so you stopped finally having the guts to look at him in the eye for more than a millisecond.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, louder this time. You froze. You didn't want that to happen. You didn't want him to face you abut what happened. It would made it real, and you still hadn't enough courage for that.

"What for ?" You asked, your voice breaking.

"You what for".

You hesitated a lot before responding. "No actually I don't. Was it for mean rejecting me without an ounce of regret or nicenessin your words ? Or maybe the fact that you destroyed my confidence? Oh no ! I know, it was for the time you mocked me in front of my friend, who is in fact your girlfriend, and a fake friend!"

"You weren't supposed to be there that time." He said, suddenly finding the floor really interesting.

"Maybe but I was, so it's the same result and the same mean words that came out of your mouth."

He knew you were right. You were completely allowed to be mad at him for the way he treated you. But it was still hard. Azriel had never been in proper relationships nor had he ever been confessed to. It wasn't a proper excuse but it still made it hard to accommodate to those things for a boy deprived of love for all his life. He didn't know how to react, so to him, the better solution was to stay silent. You sighed, disappointed and he came awkwardly closer to you to hold you and shoot in the sky, following Cassian and Lucien, long arrived and waiting for you worried (especially Lucien).

Elain was waiting for Azriel, or Lucien, no one knew, on the balcony of the House of Wind and almost fell when she saw you. You in Azriel's arms, accompanying Lucien. Azriel struggled to let you go, especially after your conversation, but the second you were out of his hold, Elain held you in a crushing hug. You rapidly got out as well, feeling uncomfortable after her hypocrisy. You gave her a sad smile and Lucien introduced you to Feyre and Rhysand who had already told you to call them by their name, and to Mor and Amren. They all welcomed you warmly except Elain and Azriel of course who both looked like ashamed puppies with their tails between their legs.

After dinner, everyone went out in the garden for a tea and you found yourself on a couch behind Lucien sat on the floor. Automatically, because it was something you were now used to do, your hands found his head and started playing with his hair. Everyone had their eyes on you, confused on your proximity but you didn't notice and kept going on braiding his hair.

"I'll do yours later I promise" Lucien said, looking at you from above.

"I hope so !". Leaving everyone even more confused now.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When you were ready to left with Lucien, Elain caught you and asked you to have a word with her.

Lucien gave you a worried look and you nodded making him understand you were okay for now.

She led you to a private room and paced in it awkwardly. She opened her mouth twice and closed it almost instantly like she wanted to say something but didn't know where to start.

"So, you ans Azriel ? Huh"

"You have actually no right to be mad at me." She cut you off.

"Excuse me ? But I have every right to be mad at you right now ! You have treated me poorly faking to be my friend and laughing at me when you should have been comforting me !" You snapped, angry.

"Well, it's not like someone could ever treat you well."

"What, what do you mean ?"

"Look at you yn, nobody would ever really be with you. You're not ugly but you're not beautifu, you're not dumb but you're not smart, you're just.. Well you. And that's clearly not enough." She looked at you disgustingly.

"But Lucien is treating me well.." You said tears welling in your eyes.

"Don't be blind, yn, he's a man, and like Azriel he will ran to me when he'll see that you're no longer interesting. You were nice and all, you listened to me but I guess I just got bored of you, anyone would." And with that she left the room, leaving 8 pairs of eyes on you as she opened the door. They instantly approached you, Feyre apologising a thousand time for the mean behaviour of her sister and Azriel staying in the back, his eyes full of worry and apology. He was trying to make you feel like everything she had said was false, that you were so much more than that, worthy of the stars,of two shining stars. Because yes they had heard everything. Lucien made his way to the crowd of his family surrounding you and hesitated before he hugged you out of nowhere. Azriel clenched his jaw and his hands turned into fists. When Lucien released you of his grasp, your expression hadn't changed, its like you were empty, just one single tears had escaped your eye. Cassian and Azriel flew you to the ground of Velaris and the last one had kept his hand on yours to make you look at him.

"I'm sorry, for what she said. It's not one bit true."

"Don't worry, she's surely right..." You had answered your gaze falling on his hand. You had never noticed the scars an them, they were so beautiful, so textured, so unique. You eyes widened at the sight and Azriel quickly hid them behind back before keeping going.

"No she wasn't, please don't doubt yourself because of what came out of her mouth because of jealousy. Because that's what she was and still is, jealous."

"Thank you Az really." You sadly smiled at him before joining Lucien who was waiting for you.

He didn't know why, but something clicked in him seeing you walk away under the arm of Lucien and hearing again his nickname from your mouth. He thought it rolled well on your tongue and really wanted to hear it again, as soon as possible. And it tensed him a lot to know that this man who touched you, was probably sleeping at yours tonight, maybe in your bed to comfort you after this emotionally hard day. It puzzled him a lot and didn't even know why, until his shadows came to his ears and murmured repeatedly "want to be him".

Tag list:

@kalulakunundrum

#acotar #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #elain archeron #lucien x reader #inner circle #morrigan #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #amren #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #writing #writers on tumblr

[tadpolesonalgae]

On The Wrong Side of History: The Queen of Hybern

Azriel x Hybernian!Reader

synopsis: Reader is one of Hybern’s generals, fighting for her freedom after Prythian turned her back. Born with no magic, she was forced to cultivate a different kind of power, one that could prove deadly to the inhabitants of magic-blooded fae of Prythian. But when she’s captured and thrown into the scarred hands of the Spy-master, which side of history will prevail? Will Hybern’s story be told, or will it be covered up and concealed before the suffering of her people ever makes it to the light.

warnings: miscarriage at the end, war, general suffering and grimness, slight torture(?)

a/n: I had this idea yesterday and wanted to write something so fair warning it’s a little rushed! It also lightly brushes over miscarriage which might be a delicate subject for some so please take care of yourselves 🧡💛

word count: 3,810

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The war is coming, and not a single inhabitant of Hybern will stand by and let the chance for freedom pass. It’s been five-hundred years since you were confined to that island, cut-off from the mainland and left to rot and starve. Now is the time to reclaim the ground you were deprived of. War is coming, and she is starving for revenge. Starving like your people have for centuries, and nothing will stand between you and fighting for your right to life. Not even the baby you know is growing inside of you.

The air is fresh and damp, and you take the time to inhale its freshness before hot blood is spilled, turning the ground to a mushy, fleshy soup. The day is overcast, heavy grey clouds that look like the mould on bread swelling in the sky, ready to start leaking, dripping down into the open fields. Grass stomped into a muddy mush as feet frantically fight for ground, desperate to keep steady before they’re trodden down into the dirt, trampled and crushed beneath the weight of an army.

If you fall, you cannot rise. Not with a writhing mass of violence crowding the land, oozing bloodlust so thick it won’t matter which army you fight for. A body shouldn’t rise from the mud, any attempts to would be met with steel slicing down in a frantic jolt.

You turn from the entrance of your tent, making for the bed, moving slowly, peacefully, to the protective coatings you’ll be wearing in a couple of hours. The leather that will stick and slide over your skin, wet with blood and sweat, hopefully some rain, too. Heat gathers quickly in the midst of battle, and between the stink of gore and the sweltering sweat that greases any soldier’s grip, rain and wind are much appreciated for their gentle touches.

Your nose twitches as a breeze passes through the camp, quiet in the early hours of misty, grey dawn. Even beneath the cover of your tent, the smell of the battlefield can reach you—damp and bloody, contaminating the fresh air you’d been treating yourself to.

Something shifts inside of you, and you glance down at yourself, hesitantly raising your palm to your lower stomach. You only found out about your condition mere weeks ago, but even had you only found out this morning, you would still be here, preparing for your freedom.

The baby won’t survive, anyway. Not with what your body has turned into.

————

“You’re ready for today?”

A wry smile curves your lips, settling deeper into the chair that’s been set to one side of his room, the large bed in the centre already made despite him having risen as recently as yourself. Neither of you have ever particularly been ones for sleeping in, having so much to do at all times of day. “I’ve been ready for the past five hundred years,” you answer, leaning your chin on the heel of your palm.

The King of Hybern reflects your smile—the slightest twist of his lips. “Perhaps I made a mistake sending Amarantha to seize control of Prythian,” he muses, slipping the shirt over his head, pulling his dark, shoulder-length hair free of the collar once it’s on, making to tighten the laces that can be used to close the V of the hem. A note of dissatisfaction slides beneath your skin as his amulet is obscured—a hollow iron circle, his crest welded from the dark metal inset to its centre.

“Perhaps,” you agree lightly, watching as his fingers tighten the ties of his trousers, noting the distinct lack of armour—he’ll be watching over the Cauldron today. “Though in that case she might still be alive,” you murmur quietly, a little smile dancing in your eyes.

“You disgrace her,” he chuckles lowly, pulling the thick coat from his bed, leather on its exterior to keep out the bite of wind or the lick of rain, while lined with a warm fleece. “You trained beside her for a good portion of your life, at least honour her memory.” The King of Hybern shucks on the coat, the hem of leather coming down past his knees, and he adjusts the cuffs before making for the large, wooden chest at the foot of his bed.

“There was little to honour,” you counter, straightening in the chair as you watch him decide on which daggers to hide beneath the coat. “She was brash and brazen at the best of times, too quick to grow comfortable on her throne. And I never liked her bedside manner. She was always too grabby and rough for my liking.”

“She was ambitious,” he counters, strapping a small blade to the interior of the coat, hidden away in a pocket on his left side. He pauses, briefly considering something, then glancing over you, how you’re lazily sprawled across his chair, “though her nails could have been a bit shorter. They were an unpleasant surprise, at times.”

Your lips curve at one corner, sharing a look with him, before he returns to selecting his daggers, settling on one with a jagged, serrated edge, a wicked hook to its tip.

It’s then he turns, blades concealed beneath his coat and he silently walks to you, charcoal eyes glittering as you sit straighter. “How long have you been serving me now?” He asks, pausing at your side, so you have to incline your chin to look at him, baring your throat. “Five centuries? Six?”

“Six and a half,” you reply, “if you’re counting foot soldier duties as serving.”

He smiles a strange smile, glittering teeth showing briefly beneath familiar lips. “Loyalties are rewarded,” he says cryptically, his palm settling beneath your jaw, inclining your chin—it would be easy for him to snap your neck with the slightest snap of his hands. “Have you thought about what you want?”

“It seems greedy to ask for something before I’ve even succeeded at winning this war,” you reply.

“Consider it a show of assurance,” he remarks, “I have no doubt you’ll prove instrumental to Prythian’s ruin. Now, what would you like, upon your victory?”

Your eyes gleam with hunger, and you wonder if it’s at all possible he might not already know what you desire, more than anything. And looking at the way those charcoal eyes of his are gleaming, as if goading you on, urging the words to spill like honey from your velvety tongue—you feel it’s impossible. He knows what your request will be. And he’s practically dragging the desire from your throat, with the grip he has on it.

“Make me your queen.”

———

Darkness pounds at your mind, eyes aching as if the blood vessels are bursting, hot pressure building, ready to splash out through your pupils. The air is cool…cold, skin hypersensitive to the slightest shift in temperature, telling you there’s a layer of sweat over your exterior, alerting you to each swish of air.

Your thigh stings, the laceration taking its time to heal, longer than others of your kind would. The small cuts you’d been given the day before—a few inches long—have scabbed over, no longer in danger of leaking blood, but there’s going to be a definite pucker around each cut. A shiver traces up your spine, an involuntary shudder passing through your lungs as coldness sweeps across your skin, like a winter’s breeze.

Slowly, keeping your breathing as even as possible, you crack an eye open, only to be met with darkness. Hesitantly, the other slides open, and you peek at your surroundings but the dark seems impenetrable, thick and absolutely solid. Your nostrils flare, and the faint smell of ammonia and iron waft up along with the sharp tang you associate with stomach acid, the air itself thick and damp, slightly humid. Fertile and rife, perfect for things to start growing.

Casting your gaze downward, you can spot the stitching that’s covering the split in your right thigh, jaggedly stitched up, and from the looks of it you’re quite glad you weren’t conscious for it. You also notice the grime that’s already begun settling on you, dirt and mud and gore still layering your skin, save for the small perimeter that’s been cleaned around your thigh. The thought of how you must smell is a grim one.

“You’re awake,” a voice observes from the darkness, making your ears twitch.

You keep your mouth tightly sealed, waiting to hear what the observer has to say. Let them speak their part first, before you start making your own moves. Already you can tell this one is different from the previous ones—yesterday’s one had a lighter voice, squeaky and dragging. This one sounds like the first roll of thunder before a storm breaks.

“You’ll forgive me for the haphazard stitching. Healers are needed elsewhere.”

So this one’s to blame for the child’s-quilt on your thigh. It’s more than likely it was done intentionally carelessly, rather than simply poorly—poor stitching could lead to further infection, while careless stitching just might leave a trace of a scar. On a regularly healing body, at least.

Straightening in your chair, you try to pick out where the voice is coming from, but the darkness is so thick, and your eyes have barely had a chance to adjust, and with the faelight bobbing above your head there’s little chance they will anytime soon. Keeping them shut would be the quickest way, but it would be leaving yourself open. More open than you already are, that is, with your arms bound at your back. They haven’t bothered to shackle you to the chair itself today, the ties from yesterday are gone, and you can feel the weight of the stone around your wrists: Gorsian shackles—utterly useless on you.

“What do you want today?” You ask into the darkness, stretching your fingers to keep them awake and ready. It’s already been at least three days, and you suspect whoever has come to visit today isn’t just any old torturer. You can tell from the silence they keep, how undetectable they are despite your honed senses, sharper than most’s. They had to be, for you to survive.

“The same thing anyone might want from a prisoner of war,” the voice replies, ghosting through the room, bouncing about in the darkness so it’s impossible to tell its root. “And what is that?” You ask, following the script, familiar with the direction of the conversation—unaccustomed, however, to be on this side of it. “Information,” the voice replies, and there’s less than a second of detectable presence before your hair is wrapped around a fist and dragged back, your throat exposed as you’re positioned over the back of the chair, making it impossible to swallow. The faelight glares down at you, beaming into your adjusted eyes, and you’re forced to squint as your vision blurs from the sting of the light and the grip on your scalp. Cool steel settles just below your jaw, the tip of a blade spiking into the soft flesh just beneath the hollow of your mouth.

Your teeth grit together, hissing sharply at the roughness of the touch, thigh aching from the tension that shot through your body. A laugh forces its way from your chest, ragged and strained as you peer up into the faelight, pupils tightening to slits in the face of the brightness, “give me something in return. I can’t very well go back empty handed, can I?”

Your captor roughly tugs on your hair, your lip twitching a little from the pain but otherwise unruffled. “You might go back with no hands at all, unless you’re careful.”

“Threats already? You haven’t even told me what you’re after,” you bite out, voice heavy and grim.

A beat passes between you, then the steel is flipped away between deft fingers, removed from your throat in favour of pressing to your sternum—a warning before the cuts begin, gradually skinning you alive until they get what they want. Fury simmers quietly inside of you, but you keep it tucked away. That’ll only come in useful once the pain starts setting in. A fuel to fall back on when food would become a problem. But it’s high time you return to your king. You’ve spent long enough here, all because of a stupid, foolish…

“Would you like to hear something interesting, then? In the name of compromise?” The voice asks, low and rasping, and you sit silently, waiting for what they have to say.

“The one who visited you yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that…each one refused to come back the next day. Insisted there was something wrong with you.” The hand tightens on your hair then releases, the presence vanishing like a flame snuffed out, leaving your skin tingling with awareness. “Once is by chance, twice is a coincidence, but three…three’s a pattern.”

Something hisses past your ear, and you jerk in your seat, not foolish enough to stand. You glare into the darkness, peering deep from beneath your lowered brows, lips turned down in the corners as you try to pick out even the faintest shadow, but they all blend together so seamlessly, like one giant, blank wall. Not a single shape to be found.

Something whispers to your left, then cracks to your right, your pulse beginning to pick up involuntarily form the confusing stimulus, attention split between both directions.

A figure steps into the grey shift in light, silent and menacing as it prowls forward, one military-grade boot in front of the other, and you take in the towering silhouette, the great wings looming in deeper shadow. Your eyes follow the light as it glides up his frame, revealing long legs clad in Illyrian leathers, scarred hands within easy reach of visible weapons, a lean waist and broad chest, the Night Court insignia clear over his heart. Cold, cutting hazel eyes, with a glint you recognise. After having spent so many centuries gazing into eyes like that, it would be strange to not be able to place the intense glint of honed reproach, the look that desires utter eradication of the thing that’s causing suffering.

Calm and deadly, he is your exterminator.

“We’ll start with an easy question,” he says, gaze unfaltering as he meets your own.

“What is it that makes all kinds of magic recoil from you, General?”

A slow smile breaks across your lips, delicately curving in a mocking grin. You should have known this would be his question, that they would have figured something was wrong with you by now—the slowed healing, the way their magic leans back from you, as if trying to scuttle away.

“And you?” You ask, a gleam in your eye. “What’s your title?”

His mask doesn’t shift, not even the slightest hint of emotion in his dark eyes. Just silence. Patient, grating, silence.

“Not even the name of my captor?” You push, smile slipping away, settling back into a wall of ice to match his own—you can play that game, too. “Or are you nobody? You don’t seem like you’re nobody, though.” You angle your chin, shifting in the chair slightly, re-flexing your fingers, testing the gorsian shackles. “You’re clearly important, if you were sent in to investigate after three turned away, and considering the insignia you’re wearing, with those wings…master torturer of the Night Court?”

He inclines his head, “Spymaster. Shadowsinger.”

“And how do your shadows like me, Spymaster?” You murmur, able to guess the answer.

His dark eyes narrow on you almost imperceptibly, then his right hand is wrapping around the hilt of one of his blades, inset with strange markings, as dark as obsidian. The hairs on the nape of your neck rise as he thumbs the blade free, a sharp glint in his eye being the last thing you see of him before he steps away into shadow, falling seamlessly back into the darkness.

“How long had you planned to let this war go on for?” He rasps from the darkness, the question bounding in and out, coming from different sides that make it impossible to track his position. All while he’s free to observe from the shadow. “You ask that like we have control over the nature of war,” you reply neutrally, keeping your gaze sharp, but all it looks the same. If you could find a way to put the faelight out, or to lure him to stand before you… Getting some information first would be preferable, though.

“But maybe we had an idea.”

The sound of steel slicing through air comes from your right, and you instinctively follow the familiar hiss of a blade, body tensing, as if expecting it to come flying out from the darkness.

“You’d have to be confident in a victory to have a timeframe in mind.” His rasp echoes throughout the room you’re kept in, whispering in varying volumes as it’s bounced off shadow. “We’ve had a long time to prepare,” you reply vaguely, features remaining blank, despite being unable to so much as feel the weight of his attention. If it wasn’t for the fact you’d seen him, and were having a conversation, you wound’t believe he was in here with you. You hate to admit it, but it’s impressive.

“And I suppose you believed you’d win?” He questions.

“I know we’ll win. Whether I’m in here or not.”

The steel tip of a blade grazes the top of your back, slowly tracing the length of your shoulders, occasionally pressing deep enough to disrupt the skin, but mostly remaining as a taunting reminder—he could choose to cut you at any moment, as deeply or as slowly as he pleases. “What made you believe that? Numbers? Experience? Speeches?”

“We have the cauldron,” you reply, keeping apprehension clear from your voice, the tip of the blade pressing a little too deeply into the back of your left shoulder. “What was it like, by the way? Seeing your soldiers wiped from existence in the blink of an eye?” The blade bites into your skin, probably pushed in to about an inch of flesh, and you grit your teeth as he twists the steel, opening the wound up. “I’m fairly certain we targeted your aerial armies on the first day,” you grit out, remembering the wings at his back. “I’m guessing you knew some of that scum?”

The blade retracts calmly, but he makes no further incisions, walking back around to stand in front of you. He’s strangely under control, considering how badly the war will be going for his side.

“Why are you so repulsive to fae magic?” He repeats. Unruffled by the comment. Good. “Why don’t you come closer and figure it out yourself?” You reply, noting the living shadows that are gliding down from his shoulders. “See if your shadows can answer that question.”

He regards you silently, then slides the blade back into its home at his hip, walking forward until he crowds your space, scarred fingers biting brutally into your cheeks, squeezing as he leans down. “I don’t think I need an answer. Not anymore.” You keep your mouth shut, confused by what he’s saying. “You see, despite your certainty, you were proved wrong. Two days ago. I would like to know what it is about you that makes magic react the way it does, but at the end of the day, it’s ultimately of no importance.”

You glare up at him, muscles tense from the grip he has on your cheeks, squeezing your jaw.

“You lost the war,” he says, quietly. “Your king was decapitated by one of the humans he used as a test subject. Felled by his own creation.”

There’s no falsity in his gaze, just ugly, unforgiving, truth.

And he’s in reach.

You twist your wrists in a snappy movement, harsh enough the already weakened gorsian stone crumbles away, allowing you to launch from the chair, hand seamlessly wrapping around the hilt of his blade, sliding it free with the familiar sing of steel.

He’s caught off guard—it’s impossible to break out of those shackles—his moments of surprise allowing you to use his weight against him, pushing into the frame of muscle in the places you’re familiar with, tripping him up. His wings thrash as they’re caught beneath him, shadows vanishing at your proximity, shoved away to some godsforsaken pocket as you aim the blade for his throat, his own scarred hands wrapping around your wrists to loosen your hold. But fae are made of magic, their very strength dependant on it. Encountering a creature that nullifies any and all types…his muscles tremble beneath you, shaking with the force of keeping you from plunging the blade into his throat.

“I’ll kill you, and your High Lord,” you hiss, leveraging your own weight, so the blade sinks down toward the bare, unprotected part of flesh. “I’ll end every single one of you, and I’ll save that abomination for last,” you snarl, in regard to the human who he’d told you decapitated your king.

His strength is draining swiftly, and he knows you can sense it, can feel the tremble in his muscles, and the steel inches closer, spurred on by his weakness.

The Spymaster grits his teeth as he shifts suddenly beneath you, allowing you to gain precious inches so the steel scratches the swell in his male throat, but in turn allowing him to raise his leg from the ground, stomping his boot into your stomach, sending you flying back, crashing into the chair you’d been sat on, the faelight flickering above.

Your lips part, eyes going wide as nausea rises up swiftly, having only seconds before you’re vomiting onto the floor, heaving up chewed food and saliva, a dizzying feeling sweeping through your entire body.

You’re flipped over not even a second after you get the first clear breath down, the Spymaster over you, dark eyes cold as ice as the steel of that blade glints in the unnaturally pale faelight. The blade hisses down, aimed to slice up beneath your ribs, cutting into your heart, but his eyes have dropped to the hand you have over your abdomen. Nostrils flaring at the slight tang of blood.

His features slack. “You’re—”

You take the chance, knocking the blade from his hand, reaching to wrap your hands around his throat, but something impacts with your temple, a second figure coming from the darkness that you hadn’t noticed, and you feel as the hit registers.

A fresh wave of dizziness slams into you, the world tilting dramatically before you’re slumping, heading for the floor before hands catch you. Making sure you don’t land on your front.

The world goes silent.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x yn #on the wrong side of history

[lunaduskxo]

If Az only wants Elain for certain yoga positions…then why is he the perfect candidate for G*yn? She’s going to magically make him forget about a person he’s thought about for a long amount of time? All while she stays in the library?

#elriel #queue #elain x azriel #pro elain #pro elriel #elriel forever #elain archeron #acotar #elain and azriel #elriel supremacy #anti g*ynriel #anti g*yn #elriel content #Elriel facts #elain kingslayer