#azriels pov

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 2

Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Y/N's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison

Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF.

Part One

✨💫

Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Y/N’s story? What were those burns from? If Y/N was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.

The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”

Feyre didn’t so much as move.

Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prison and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amren was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.

Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.

“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.

“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.

“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”

“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”

Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.

The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”

They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.

“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”

“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly not.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”

There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Y/N. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”

Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.” 

Another pause and Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left with the scars from the burns.”

The image of Y/N gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Y/N. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Y/N, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”

The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males to be able to produce another generation of warriors. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned, she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Y/N before either of them even considered it. Y/N interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”

The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Y/N’s hair came into her mind’s eye.

“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Y/N. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Y/N was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Y/N, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just clip them.”    

The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.    

“I suspect that if Y/N was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Y/N’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Y/N himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Y/N after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Y/N after the name of a bakery in Velaris she adored. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Y/N is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”   

The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Y/N’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Y/N were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #feyre #feyre x rhysand #cassian #3rd person pov

[gwyns-shadowsinger]

___________ ___________ ___________ ___________ ___________

Azriel: "I am a shadowsinger - it's not a title that someone just made up."

Gwyn:

(. ...)

"Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone."

Azriel finding her disrespect charming is 100000000000/10 🗡😇😉

(btw, I don’t actually think Gwyn was being disrespectful/rude to Azriel, I think she was just teasing him and being playful. It was just, you know …. banter 😚)

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #azriel pov

[illyrian-dreamer]

Bat boys drabble!

How each of the bat boys would react to being called ‘bro’ 🦇

Did I not promise to write a least a little something while I’m travelling?? 🥰 Thank you @aroseinvelaris for letting me use your super fun prompt! ❤️

18+ smut under the cut. It’s brat taming time 😏 💥

Rhysand

Wouldn’t like it one bit

You have heaps of loving pet names for one another (darling of course, princess, tiny, kitten and mischievous one for you) (handsome, lover boy, baby and mosthandsomeandcunninghighlord for Rhys). Bro is certainly not on the list.

He blinks those dark lashes once, the most surprise he’d ever show

A sinister grin grows on his face

“A beg your pardon, darling?”

He stalks closer, placing his hands on either side of the wall of whatever surface you’re near, trapping you between him, his purple eyes sparkling, almost daring you

“What was that you called me? Bro?” You can hear the distaste in his voice

His scent evenlopes your senses, and you swallow thickly

Tracing the bob in your throat, Rhys quirks a brow at you, faking an expected answer for a victory he already knows is his

He tuts before leaning in that much closer, his lips against your throat. Seconds later, canines gently graze your soft flesh

“I dare you to call me that again,” he murmurs into your neck

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t find your voice as Rhys licks where his teeth were resting, your core now throbbing

He’d probably sink his teeth in just a little before taking you against the wall

Cassian

Laughs at first, you were on the same team at games night and he chuckled, returning your high-five when you won

But as the night went on, you used the nickname a few more times, and it begin to eat away at him

Which you noticed in your partner, his laugh turning to a smirk, then a frown, and finally an outright scowl

Still, you delighted in irking him

Cassian was unusually quiet on your way home. As soon as you got through the door, he grabbed your wrist

“What was that all about?”

“What?” You answered innocently

Cassian levelled a look at you. “Why did you keep calling me bro? I’m your mate.”

You heart could have broken at those puppy dog eyes. You should have realised that kind of teasing would have hurt him, Cassian being the big softie he is

“Oh, I’m sorry Cas. It was- I was just irking you.”

Cassian raises his brows. “Oh! Oh.”

A wolffish grin spread across his face, before you were flipped over his shoulder as he stalked towards your bedroom

Throwing you on the bed (and not gently either), Cassian had your wrists pinned and body pressed against you in seconds

“So my mate likes to tease me, huh?”

You giggled as he nipped your neck, giving a very weak attempt to throw him off you

“I am your mate, sweetheart. And only your mate can make you feel like this.”

Cassian thrusts his groin into yours and holds it there, your laughter immediately halting as pleasure shoots up through your core

Cassian delights at the shock on your face, before moving against you a few more times, slowly rutting, fully clothed

“You’ve gone all quiet, sweetheart, and gone all pink,” he teases. “What’s wrong, got nothing else to say?”

You can barely speak beyond moaning his name as Cassian flips and fucks you, the whole damn bed on its final hinges

Azriel

Does nothing in the moment, beyond quirking a brow at you

Bahaha boy oh boy will you be paying for it later though

It’s like he has a clicker in his mind, and each time you use that word, he tallys the amount of spanks you’ll be receiving that night

Azriel sees the word bro as a challenge – it’s mocking, questions his dominance, and is a weak attempt to toy with him

That’s why later that night, you’re bent over his lap, panties pulled to the side as he soothes your red cheeks after a fifth spank, Azriel cooing softly

“Who am I?” His voice is deep, commanding

Your face is as red as your ass. “Daddy.”

“That’s right. And what am I not?”

You gulp, willing yourself not to snort as you say it

Azriel pinches your ass – you’re taking too long

You yelp before manage to get it out. “My bro.”

“Good girl.” Azriel continues to rub a soothing palm over your stinging cheeks before squeezing at the flesh.

He fucks you sensually, only because you took your punishment like a good girl

#bat boys drabble #bat boys smut #bat boys pov #acotar drabble #acotar smut #rhysand smut #cassian smut #azriel smut #Rhysand drabble #cassian drabble #azriel drabble #Rhysand fic #Cassian fic #Azriel fic #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #Azriel x reader #acotar pov #acotar fandom #acotar headcanon #bat boys #bat boys x reader

[kindasleepywriter]

Public Displays of Affection - Azriel x Reader

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

Warnings: None! Just a lot of fluff

Word count: 850.

Sidenote: Accidentally posted this on my personal blog at first! this is the re-upload on the right account <3

Winter Solstice was rapidly approaching. If the bite of frost in the air didn’t remind you of the fact, the extravagant amount of decoration in the House of Wind did. They’d started appearing a few weeks ago and now covered most surfaces, admittedly bringing you more joy than you let on every time you went to the library to pick up a new book. Solstice felt bittersweet to you, but you let yourself enjoy the parts you could.

You watched Azriel as you leaned in the door frame of the sitting room as he helped Feyre and Nyx make what looked to be garlands, although the latter’s work might be considered an abstract representation of one. You smiled gently as the ease with which he laughed with the others. You were glad he’d become more confident alongside you.

He glanced up, as if reading your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat at the wide smile he gave you, still so affected at the sight of him, despite the years. He always could manage to get your heart racing from the most innocent of gestures. When you thought back, you could see it clear as day: he was always the one you were meant to be with from the first day, despite what you felt then. No one had managed to break through the walls that had numbed you to the world except for him, even if it had initially been through confrontations of anger.  

Azriel whispered a few words to Nyx, the young boy giggling at his words and rushing to his mother’s side, before walking over to your side, circling around you so he held your back against his chest. He swayed slowly with you to the soft beat of the music surrounding you both.

“Penny for your thought?” he whispered, soft breath tickling the skin behind your ear.

“I don’t think you can afford all of them right now, Az,” you chuckled, turning your face to his and raising a hand to brush a wisp of hair straying on his forehead. “But I’ll give you one for free if you want.”

He hummed, eyes fixed on yours and his hands rubbing slow circles against your hips. “I’d empty Rhys’ entire vault for you, love, don’t tempt me to do so,” he said. You laughed, turning to put your hands around his neck, his hands finding their way around you and flattening against your shirt in the sensitive spot between your wings. You sighed in contentment, a shiver running down your spine. “But I’ll happily take what you’ll give me.” he continued quietly.

“I’m thinking that I never truly thanked you for sticking by me through it all.” You kissed him softly, pulling your head back with a chuckle as he tried to follow. “I couldn’t have hoped for someone more perfect than you.”

You felt his grin against your lips, smiling back at you. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to yours. “And I’ve been the luckiest in Prythian to see you shine, my love.”

You went to speak again, but your words were interrupted by the sound of something whizzing through the air, but no sound of impact came, only a smacking sound across the room and an undignified squeak. Azriel did not move from his position, arms tightening, but rolled his eyes and raised his voice. “Cass, if you don’t put down that second wreath you’re holding, I won’t hesitate to tell Nesta what you got her for Solstice this instant.”

A feminine laugh rang across the room.

“You guys are no fun together.” Cassian muttered, more laughs ringing from the others around you. Your cheeks reddened and tension ran through you, not unnoticed by Azriel. “Want to get out of here?” he whispered.

“Please, before he decided to move on to more intimidating weapons.” you snickered.

“I’ll have you know that wreaths are perfectly acceptable projectiles when you two lovebirds are being-” You were grateful for Cassian’s indignant protest being cut off by darkness surrounding you, you and your lover disappearing to your shared bedroom.

Your wings spread on instinct when your feet caught solid ground, and you immediately caged Azriel against the wall, your hands resting on his defined pectorals. “I believe Cassian might need to learn to be grateful of our discretion in public, love.” he muttered playfully.

“We could always show him exactly how much we restrain ourselves in their presence,” you purred. You were always more playful when you two were alone. “I’m sure a little demonstration might remind him of the fact.”

You shuddered as his hands trailed down your back, over your rear and to your thighs, tapping them slightly, and you jumped with a single beat of your wings, obliging his silent demand. He caught you, spinning you around and leading you to the bed, softly laying you down.

Not a single word was uttered about your public displays of affection again.

If I'm being honest, I was planning on finishing up Bird of Prey before Christmas and was hoping to post this as a follow-up, but finals got the best of me. I should be posting more during the holidays!

Banner created by the amazing @saradika!

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

[the-darkestminds]

Personally, I don’t like the idea of Nuala and Cerridwen being Elain’s best friends because at the start of Elain’s time in Velaris it was their job to attend to her, just like they did when Feyre first showed up. They answer to Rhysand and Azriel first and foremost because that is what they are paid to do. Elain deserves the opportunity to make friends of her own, just like Nesta did. I still feel bad for Feyre that she never got the chance to do that because as we saw in ACOSF, all of her friends are loyal to Rhysand first and her second. Not to mention the fact that if Elain is best friends with the twins, it has happened 100% off page and we didn’t get to read any of it as it developed. 🥱

#people be like ‘Elain is already happy! she has besties! she will never leave Feyre’s house!’ bro what #then why does she need a mf book??? #people talk about them like the three of them are bffs #I do not see that #and that is just a theory cuz we haven’t had her POV yet #also how boring if she’s already made super close friends and we don’t get to read about the growth?? #sarah j maas #acomaf #acotar #elucien #acowar #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #acosf #acofas #nuala and cerridwen #pro Elain #Elain #elain acotar #elain archeron #azriel #pro elucien #anti elriel #anti e/riel #antielriel #pro gwynriel #gwynriel

[sadiegirl2021]

My submission for @gwynrielweeksofficial Prompt: Confessions.

Is it still Gwynriel if it's love between the shadows and Gwyn!?

Confessions of a Brave, Lonely Shadow on Ao3

I remember it all so clearly—the day I fell in love with Gwyneth Berdara.

The doors opened to the training ring; the sun was shining high, and I was the only shadow willing to accompany the Master. The rest hid in the shade, as usual.

She entered the ring, proud and strong. When her coppery hair caught the wind and danced around her face like fiery shadows, it made my breath catch. If I had one to catch, that is!

We had met once before under very different circumstances, and I do not wish to revisit that day. But I will say that I have never experienced that level of rage and protectiveness before. It all made sense when I saw her again. That’s when I knew she was the only one for me. Well, us… the others are also quite fond of her too. Not as much as I am, though. She is my mate, after all.

Our Master, of course, is completely clueless, so hung up on that Elain Archeron girl. No matter how many times we remind him she’s a mated female, he just won't listen. It’s the ‘Mor is not interested in you’ argument all over again. He always thinks he knows best! Stupid boy… but I digress.

The day he brought us shopping for a Solstice present for Elain, I just about lost it. I felt my heart breaking, or I would have if I had one, that is.

I wanted to buy a gift for my mate, shower her with all the love and attention she deserved. Stupid Master was ruining my chance at love. Real love! Not the infatuations he chased.

And Solstice night was… difficult. It was quite clear the Archeron girl was open to our Master’s advances, and she very much liked the necklace. We all closed our eyes as they almost kissed—if we had eyes to close—but were praising the Mother above when the High Lord intervened just in time.

We ignored the fight between the brothers; too tired to care after a night of festivities. We encouraged the Master to leave and get some rest. He begrudgingly did.

And then, Gwyneth was there in the training ring! We collectively agreed this was my chance to make a big impression on her.

We didn’t warn the Master of her presence, but we could tell he was just as surprised to see her there. We were even more shocked that he continued to engage in conversation when she’d given him a clear out.

Then she looked at me with interest. No one ever looked at us shadows with kind eyes! But she did. She must have felt our bond too, even if she didn’t understand it yet.

Some of the others claimed she was looking at them, but I know it was right at me!

The air was cold, and as her breath curled in front of her perfect lips, I darted out to dance with it. I added my best flourish to show her just how interested I was in her too and prayed she understood. She seemed a bit preoccupied talking to the Master, but the others told me I’d done a great job.

Our mating bond was singing silently, and we all felt at ease from the soothing lullaby it produced, sinking onto the Master's shoulders to watch as she executed almost perfect strikes to cut the white ribbon. She’d get there, eventually. And we would silently encourage her all the way.

It had all ended too soon, but it was a positive step forward for our relationship. As we descended to the Master’s room, we were pleasantly surprised to hear her beautiful voice follow us, humming an enchanting tune.

I sang back in answer to my mate, promising that one day we'd be together, that the song in our souls would become one.

The next day, our Master received his present from Elain back. It had seemed the female had a change of heart. Tragic, of course… but an excellent opportunity for me.

I whispered Gwyneth’s name over and over in the Master’s ear, encouraging him to regift the necklace to my mate. If I had hands and a body, I would have gotten her my own gift… but this was the best I could do.

The Master rebelled slightly at the idea and even suggested giving my gift to a different priestess! But thank the gods for the wonderful Clotho. She insisted it should go to my beautiful Gwyneth.

I imagined how her teal eyes might widen with joy upon receiving it. I only wished I could stay to watch.

A strange spark flickered amongst us, but I didn't think much of it.

I reached out one last time toward my mate, wishing her a Happy Solstice before the Master departed.

One day we would celebrate it together. I knew it in my soul… or whatever the shadow equivalent was.

9 Months Later:

It was the Master’s mating bond I was feeling… not my own. To say I am devastated would be an understatement. But at least I can be close to her now, always.

She calls me her favourite shadow. And I still call her my mate.

I’ve never felt life to be unfair as a shadow, accepting that I must exist without a body of my own. But this has been hard to adjust to.

My Master treats her well, though… all I’ve ever wanted was for her to be happy, and she truly is with him.

And who knows. Perhaps my true mate is out there too, somewhere… hiding among shadows… waiting for me.

#Is this unhinged? #POV Azriel's bravest shadow #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #gwynrielweeks2024 #gwynriel weeks 2024 #acotar fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #Prompt: confessions

[separatist-apologist]

Take Me Back To The Night We Met

Summary: Gwyneth Berdara wants nothing more than to return home and exact revenge on the courtiers who hurt her and killed her sister. Exiled to a distant temple, Gwyn finds herself at the mercy of a mysterious stranger offering to escort her home on orders from her eldest brother and king of the realm.

Unraveling the secrets of the strange soldier will prove more deadly than Gwyn could ever have imagined, setting into motion events that began nearly five hundred years before.

Happy @gwynrielweeksofficial!

TW for mentions of past sexual assault

Read on Ao3

Gwyn was beginning to believe the gloom would never lift. Though she tried to remember, she couldn’t recall a time when the world had been so draped in fog. It was supposed to be spring, wasn’t it? Where was the sunshine, the chirping birds, the swaying flowers? All was rot and ruin, like death itself stalked the world to keep the world in perpetual slumber. 

It made waking difficult, though the pounding fist on the other side of the door was insistent enough to convince her to throw back the scratchy blanket before Azriel burst in. “I’m up, I’m up,” she grumbled. Gwyn stood in the room, staring at the dishes piled against a little table as she tried to recall her dreams…but nothing came. Odd. Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d had dreamless sleep, though she wasn’t complaining, either. She felt strangely unburdened, as though someone had come in and scooped out the worst of her grief and guilt and set it all to one side. 

Gwyn was quick to braid her hair and dress in riding clothes, abandoning the aqua dress from the day before. That belonged to the priestesses, not the princess. And out here, she was neither—just Gwyn. That felt strange, too. She’d never been just herself. It was just play pretend until she reached the palace and yet Gwyn liked the sight of herself in rough pants and a fitted shirt only half tucked in. Neither Merril nor Eris would have approved, which made Gwyn happy.

Another series of pounding knocks drew Gwyn out of her satisfied staring. With a sigh, she made her way to the door where Azriel stood dressed exactly as he had the night before. “Sleep well?” he asked, a bite in his voice. Clearly he hadn’t. 

“Like a babe,” she replied, the worst honest. “And I’m hungry.”

“What a surprise,” he grumbled, gesturing toward the narrow hall and the creaking stairs just at the end. It was hard to imagine Azriel, with his powerful frame, sleeping here. Would he be able to stretch out his legs? Did she feel pity for him?

Maybe a little, she supposed, though the dark scowl etched over his otherwise lovely face certainly dampened some of it. He didn’t have to sleep in the hall. He could have slept in his own bed across the way given he’d locked her in from the outside. His exhaustion was his fault and Gwyn refused to feel bad for him. Perhaps he’d learn his lesson this upcoming night and be more proactive.

Or perhaps by the time they reached the palace he’d be a snarling, snapping beast. Either way, Gwyn just barely cared. He was a grown man, he didn’t need her to take care of him. Nor did she have any interest in doing so.

Such was her good mood that Gwyn forgot who occupied the tavern, halting so abruptly at the sight of all those men that Azriel barreled into her back without warning. She would have slammed to the ground, likely chipping a tooth had he not reached out to grab her, yanking her against his chest before any harm could come to her.

“Careful,” he warned in that low, lethal voice of his. Shrugging off his touch with casual indifference, Gwyn allowed Azriel to pick a table close to a dirty window. “Don’t move.”

A few eyes drifted toward her, lacking the curiosity she was so accustomed to. Perhaps, after being gone for so long, no one expected to see a Vanserra so far north. Or maybe she no longer looked like one at all, a thought that deflated some of her good mood. All she had was her family—if she lost them, who even was she?

Just Gwyn, that voice whispered seductively. That was enough, at least for the moment. And Gwyn had no more time to truly turn the thought over because Azriel appeared, balancing steaming bowls of porridge alongside a heaping serving of rather sad looking fruit. 

“Eat,” he said, turning again only to return with bread and a jam and a carafe of water. She did as she was told, delighted by the fare even if it was merely mediocre. Sometimes food was good so long as it was hot and available, and Gwyn knew better than to be picky right then. Lunch would be served from a satchel–dry bread, hard cheese, and dried meat that Azriel tossed over before remembering she probably needed water, too. Gwyn would eat that, too, atop her horse even though the swaying made her a little nauseous. 

Azriel certainly ate like a soldier, finishing well before she had so he could stare with disapproval. Just because he could unhinge his jaw and had no need to chew didn’t mean the rest of the world did. 

“I thought you were anxious to arrive home,” he grumbled when Gwyn reached for more bread. 

“Not exactly,” she admitted around the food she’d begun chewing. “I want to return but I’m…” Why was she telling him this? “You’ll tell Eris everything I say, won’t you?”

Was that a smile? It flickered and then faded but Gwyn swore it had been present. “I have no intention of gossiping with the king, if that’s your concern.”

She could have throttled him right then. Why couldn’t he just be a regular ass and say her secrets held no interest to either himself or Eris and leave it at that. Gossiping? When he’d asked her a direct question and she intended to answer it truthfully? 

“Forget it,” she grumbled. Azriel didn’t press, drumming his fingers against the wood table until Gwyn had eaten so much she couldn’t promise that she wouldn’t be sick when she got atop her horse. Somehow she managed and thus begun another miserable, silent day with the man her brother had deemed trustworthy enough to bring her home.

Gwyn still remembered that frantic kiss. The it’s you before slumping back into unconsciousness. Who had he thought she was? And where had that man gone? She wasted a good part of the morning idly wondering what woman could love someone as cold as Azriel and the rest turning her plan over in her mind. 

Once again, they came into another haunted looking village with a populace of exhausted, overworked people. And once again, Azriel ordered her silence while he paid for a room. The tavern felt indistinguishable from the last in terms of how it was built nor did the people seem any different.

In fact…as Gwyn looked over the tavern, she swore the two men half hidden in shadow in the corner of the room were familiar. She couldn’t see faces but their builds…had they been at the tavern the night before?

No. That was both silly and absurd. Surely there were large men all over the world and it wasn’t surprising a few might find their way into the nightly tavern after a hard day at work. But Gwyn was uneasy as Azriel led her up to the room he intended to lock her back up in.

“What?” he asked when she hesitated, standing in the doorway.

She could have told him. 

And he would have thought she was crazy.

“Nothing,” she lied, turning back for the tiny, chilly room. The door snapped shut behind her and a lock clicked, making her little more than a prisoner once more. It was just a coincidence, though the anxiety ribboning in her gut told her otherwise. What was Azriel doing down there? Gwyn filled the tub with warm water and while she scrubbed the dirt from her hair and skin, she began to count the seconds. 

Was he waiting to give her time to bathe? Or was he doing something else? 

Merril’s dagger was still tucked in her bag, half-forgotten until she dug through, looking for something clean and warm to sleep in. Gwyn hadn’t bothered to question why Merril would do such a thing…but what if they knew something she didn’t?

“You’re paranoid,” she whispered to herself, though she couldn’t shake that feeling, even when Azriel came up with food and a scowl. She waited until his back was turned to ask, “Where do you hail from?”

“The coast,” he replied casually, not looking back at her. 

Gwyn knew if she asked who his father is, he’d give her a name she’d never heard of. But all Eris’s close guards were nobility, second and third sons hoping to gain favor and avoid priesthood, but who would never gain a title and all that came with it. Would Eris send a common, low-born man to retrieve his sister?

Once, Gwyn would have been able to answer that question without hesitation, but now…maybe Eris would. That was the problem—she was jumpy, nervous of strangers and distrustful and Azriel refused to give her a reason to trust her. Strange, how that instinct of his lent credibility to what was happening.

Gwyn settled uneasily in bed, listening to the sound of Azriel’s heavy boots just outside the door. With a thunk, he plopped down and something about knowing he’d spend another miserable night sleeping upright made her say, “You can sleep in here, if you want?”

He was silent for so long that Gwyn was certain he wouldn’t respond. Well, fine. At least she tried to be nice. That was more than he could say, though perhaps they didn’t teach courtly manners on the coast. And maybe this was more punishment from Eris, something Gwyn hadn’t even considered. 

She was half asleep when Azriel’s voice floated back to her. “Where?”

That was a good question. He couldn’t have the bed and there wasn’t a chair. “The floor?” she offered, thinking she could hand him one of the lumpy pillows and half-shredded blankets, if he wanted them. 

She heard him chuckle. “How…sweet.”

But he didn’t move, and Gwyn tumbled into sleep not long after. Her dreams were back with a vengeance, pulled from the vault she typically locked them in as though someone held the threads of her mind and was combing through—looking for something. Gwyn fought, thrashing as she tried to pull herself out of her nightmares, but something kept sucking her deeper into the abyss. 

Show me, show me, show me.

Gwyn resisted, holding the memories of the attack, of her sister's dead body so tightly she swore she could taste blood. Someone was screaming as she fought, begging for help that Gwyn couldn’t give them. She wouldn’t give her sister up to this monster, this creature living in her mind even when that seductive voice promised to free her of the torment she felt.

Better to feel the torment than to forget. 

Gwyn surfaced abruptly to the near glowing eyes of Azriel. His face was impossibly close, his hands gripping her arms as he shook her.

“You’re screaming,” he said, when Gwyn stared back, trying to make sense of what was happening. Azriel was in the bed, straddling her as he held her, his gaze searching for some explanation. She blinked.

“I was?”

But of course she had been. Her heart was racing, thudding in her throat so painfully she could taste blood. “I…” 

Azriel seemed to realize he was on top of her and swung his leg over the bed so Gwyn could sit up. “I don’t remember,” she finally said, trying to recall what had just happened. “Was I having a nightmare?”

Azriel swore softly, running a hand through his inky hair while turning his back to her. “You sounded as if you were being murdered.”

“Oh,” she replied. 

Azriel turned again, something vicious etched into his features. It ought to have frightened her—she was certain in the morning it would—but right then, Gwyn only felt relief. 

“What happened to you?”

Her hands went cold. Looking at the thin blanket bunched around her hips, Gwyn whispered, “Nothing happened to me.”

Nothing he was entitled to know, anyway. Azriel was just another man who wouldn’t help—who would protect the people who had hurt her and her sister. Telling him was likely to see her injured all over again. Or worse, if the men at court ever thought Gwyn had told someone. Some secrets had to stay just that—secret. 

“Liar,” he whispered, the word filled with venom.

Gwyn didn’t like him right then. “Why would I tell you anything?” she shot back. “It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to trust you. Thank you for waking me up—and sorry if I scared you. But as far as I can tell, you’re not entitled to know anything else.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw. “My apologies, princess.”

Azriel stormed from the room, though he was careful not to slam the door. She heard him pace for a moment before he thudded back to the floor, his back against the wall. Something about his presence was soothing at least right then.

Gwyn didn’t need to remember to know what the dream had been about. She wished she could forget Catrin’s death.

And knew she never would.

#gwynriel #this chapter is so short because it used to have a really long azriel pov #and i removed it so as to not spoil my plot

[acourtofthought]

2021 - Lucien sets his sights on Koschei

2024 - Az sets his sights on threats that exist outside the world of Prythian

In the airport taxiing line, Lucien's plane would have been positioned before Az's.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien and elain #pro elain archeron #elain and lucien #anti azriel #I don't actually hate him but I don't think he's more special than characters who were set up long before him #Lucien had a pov in the actual book in ACOWAR and has waited on the resolution of his bond for two years #Az still doesn't know he has a mate #She even talked about writing an acotar book set in the past before she started talking about Az getting a book

[kindasleepycryptid]

Public Displays of Affection - Azriel x Reader

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

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

Warnings: None! Just a lot of fluff

Word count: 850.

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

[duskandcobalt]

Strawberry Kisses

While searching the River House for her sisters, Nesta accidentally stumbles upon Elain sharing an intimate moment in the garden with a certain Spymaster.

Please note, that while this is technically a bonus chapter to my series, Echoes in the Hallway, it can be read as a stand alone one-shot xx

No warnings, pure fluff. 1.4k words.

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

The skirts of Nesta’s pale blue gown, one of many gifted to her from Rhysand, fluttered around her ankles as she traipsed through the bright hallways of the River House, poking her head in and out of various rooms in search of her sisters and nephew. They hadn’t been in either of the libraries, the nursery was empty. Even the kitchen, usually the epicenter of bustling activity, had been suspiciously quiet when she’d breezed past it earlier before making her way upstairs. 

Cassian was away on a business trip with Rhysand for the past few days and Nesta had been left to her own devices for just a little too long.  She’d done fine on her own for the first day and a half but she’d slowly been losing her mind without her mate’s company ever since, even if she loathed to admit it. It’s why she’d practically begged Azriel to drop her off in town this morning, hoping that the promise of bookstores, patisseries, and maybe even a leisurely stroll along the glittering Sidra would be enough to ease her gloomy mood. 

It worked for a couple hours but even then she had still felt the need to seek the company of her sisters. Something that had once been rare, but had slowly become a recurring urge ever since she’d found some semblance of inner peace.

Nesta huffed, cursing under her breath as she bounded down the stairs and back into the kitchen to take another peek around. She spotted a covered dish sitting to the left of the kitchen window. She lifted the plate off the top to find a tempting lemon tart, two small slices already missing. Abandoning the search for her siblings, Nesta took a fork from the cupboard and plated herself a slice, humming happily at the delicious tang of the lemon curd that she guessed Elain had made either this morning or the night before. She was halfway through her third bite when a bit of movement outside of the kitchen window caught her eye.

Nesta had always thought that Elain looked like Spring, like the very essence of life, itself - but never more so than when she was in her garden, surrounded by various plants and flowers. She wore a plain linen dress, the butter yellow fabric pooled around her, reflecting the sunshine in a way that set her face and bare arms aglow. Her long hair was unbound, the length of it falling in soft waves down her back. Elain had tied a sage coloured scarf around the crown of her head to keep the golden strands from getting into her eyes as she knelt in front of a flourishing patch of berries, one that she’d been lovingly tending to ever since the weather had started to warm a couple months ago. 

Nesta was just about to turn to make her way outside to say hello to her sister as well as enquire about the whereabouts of Feyre and Nyx but she stopped, eyebrows furrowing, when she realised that Elain wasn’t out in the garden by herself. 

Azriel came into view, his tall frame clad in the same black leathers he’d been wearing this morning when he’d dropped off Nesta in town. He’d told her he was headed Under the Mountain for the day yet here he was - more relaxed than she’d ever seen him - those enormous wings of his were flared out wide, the sunlight beautifully filtering through the delicate membrane as he approached Elain with a dozing Nyx cradled carefully against his chest.

Nesta watched, lips parted in disbelief, as he knelt down next to her sister. The Shadowsinger, usually so reserved and sullen, had a soft smile on his lips. His shadows were nowhere to be seen and there was a certain look in his eyes as he spoke to Elain that Nesta recognised but couldn’t quite comprehend.

She couldn’t hear the words they exchanged due to the wards Rhys had placed on every inch of this house but the manner in which Azriel conversed so freely and the carefree way Elain laughed in response to whatever he had said, was enough to pique her interest. 

She continued to stand frozen in place, afraid the slightest movement would alert them to her presence, as Elain picked out a strawberry from the wicker basket she’d been collecting them in. She quickly wiped the berry off on her skirt, ensuring any lingering dirt fell away before she lifted the fruit to her lips. Nesta’s attention shifted to Azriel’s face as Elain bit into the bright red strawberry. The expression she found there should’ve been enough to make her look away but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. 

Instead, her eyes stayed glued to the scene in front of her. Her gaze followed Elain’s hand as she reached out and extended that same strawberry to Azriel. She watched as he wrapped his lips around the fruit, directly over where Elain’s own lips had just been. His hazel eyes remained on Elain’s face through it all. Elain raised up on her knees when Azriel pulled back, watching the movement of his throat as he swallowed. She inched closer to him, one small hand landing on his shoulder for balance while the other came to rest on his chest. 

Nesta’s breath caught in her chest when Elain, with no hesitation whatsoever, gently pressed her lips to Azriel’s. 

The kiss they shared was chaste, as if they were being mindful of the babe between their bodies. Still, Nesta found herself blushing at the intimacy of it. The way their lips brushed together in a series of pretty, innocent kisses. The sweet way Elain held his face, her thumb stroking along his strong jaw. The firm grasp of Azriel’s free hand low on the swell of her hip, the linen of her dress scrunched up under his long fingers.

There was an ease, a natural familiarity between them that made it clear that this wasn’t anything new. It was immediately evident to Nesta, just from this singular moment, that this kiss wasn’t the first that they’d exchanged. It wasn’t even one of the first few. She’d go as far as to say that they’d done far more than simply kiss, if the comfort with which they touched each other was anything to go by. 

She’d picked up on some form of tension between them once. Last Solstice. She and Elain had passed by Azriel and they’d exchanged a certain look that made Nesta think that perhaps there was something between them. She’d let it go, had convinced herself that she’d imagined it because the two of them had seemingly stopped spending any sort of time together after that night. 

But now, seeing them here - together - it was clear that Nesta hadn’t imagined the yearning and desire in those shared glances. She felt a little thrill of self satisfaction zip up the length of her spine at the knowledge that she’d been right all along. 

She continued to shamelessly watch until Elain finally pulled away from him, a coy smile on her lips and a pretty blush on her cheeks that matched the Shadowsinger’s own pleased expression. Elain bent down to peer at Nyx - still asleep against Azriel’s chest, completely oblivious to the secret relationship that his Aunt and Uncle were cultivating that only he had witnessed. 

Until now.  

Nesta finally turned away from the window, unable to keep the smile from her face as she quickly and quietly made her way out of the house, miraculously undetected by the two lovers. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about it - about how much sense it made. How much sense they made. Azriel, who she was well aware believed he wasn’t deserving of love, and Elain, who loved so easily that it was like second nature to her. They were two sides of the same coin - sun and moon, day and night - perfectly balanced, the perfect complement to each other. 

Nesta knew why they’d kept this quiet, why those secret looks had transpired into this secret relationship. Elain’s situation would certainly complicate things even if Nesta firmly believed her sister shouldn’t have to comply with some predetermined destiny that she seemingly wanted no part of. 

Regardless, Nesta would keep this to herself until they chose to come forward, if they ever chose to come forward. She wouldn’t mention it to anyone. Not to Feyre. Not to Azriel or Elain. Not even to Cassian. Much like what she’d seen on Solstice, she knew that this was their secret to tell. Never hers.

🍓🍓🍓🍓

Thank you for reading! If you're interested, you can find the rest of my writing in my masterlist xx

#elriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfiction #listen ive had inexplicable crippling anxiety about posting anything ive written for the past three weeks #so as queen taylor would say #this is me trying #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #nesta archeron #nesta pov #acotar #elriel fluff #my writing #fic rec #ao3 fanfic

[antipinkkitten]

Day 10 Prompt: Theories

Chapter 41: Deals with devils

Summary: Azriel finds out about the deal, Rhys makes a plan, the wards are cleaved again as Elain finds out what to do. Plus, an ultra sweet Gwyn and Azriel scene.

A Court of Blooms and Blades (123331 words) by antipinkkitten Chapters: 42/50 Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Crescent City Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra, Elain Archeron/Azriel, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian, Azriel/Gwyneth Berdara Characters: Elain Archeron, Lucien Vanserra, Azriel (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Rhysand (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Feyre Archeron, Gwyneth Berdara Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Rejection, Eventual Smut, POV Multiple, Mating Bond, Heartbreak, Break Up, Healing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy

#gwynriel weeks 2024 #pro gwynriel #acotar #elucien #romance #elain archeron #multiple povs #pro elain #eventual happy ending #eventual smut #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #pro gwyn #gwyn x azriel #elain x lucien #sjm books #sjm universe #sjmaas #maasverse

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N

Summary - Feyre meets Rhys's Inner Circle and witnesses the strength of the mating bond.

Warnings - abusive family mentioned.

Other Notes - 1k words; Please note that most of these lines/plot points are inspired or directly quoted from ACOMAF; I originally posted this where Reader was given the name 'Vee' but am putting this one out for anyone who might prefer y/n.

Part Two

✨💫

Feyre looked up to see the same two males from earlier standing in the doorway, grinning, and a new presence. A beautiful female with wings like the others. She wore a deep blue gown that reached the floor––her hair resting over both her shoulders. The two males wore black leather with a sword strapped against their backs. Feyre noted the power each of them seemed to hold.

The male who was a bit large than the other, spoke up with a light chuckle. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to Feyre.”

The female shot him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, nobody wanted to take you up on that offer, Cassian.” The male who stood between the female and Cassian let out a light, short, laugh before whispering something into the female’s ear making her eyes twinkle subtly. Feyre watched as Cassian gave his own pointed look.

“No secrets in front of our guest, Az,” Cassian said with a grin.

The light danced across their faces allowing Feyre to observe their physical features for a moment. Similar to Rhysand, all three were dark-haired. Both males had tanned skin and hazel eyes. Feyre couldn’t quite tell the eye color of the female standing next to Az, but she gave off an air of beauty and power.

Cassian grinned again, looking Rhys and Feyre up and down. “You made poor Feyre dress up, brother,” he said before winking in her direction. His features were rough like someone had molded him, from the earth.

The second male was more classically beautiful, though hard to read. He was certainly the one who would be a surprise in the dark, the hidden knife. Feyre noticed the light sparkle in his eyes anytime he looked at the female to his left. It piqued a curiosity in Feyre.

Rhys said, “Azriel––my spymaster,” indicating the one in the middle. He then indicated the female. “Y/N. An emissary for the Night Court.” A name, Feyre later learned, Az had adopted for the emissary after she declared she did not want the name her abusive family had given her.

She immediately offered her hand with a warm smile. “Welcome, Feyre.” She gently squeezed Feyre’s before she quickly let go and Feyre does her best to not seem eager as she stepped back to stand next to the High Lord of the night Court, again.

“You’re brothers?” Feyre asked. The two males before her looked similar. The kind of similar where people who come from the same place do, not familial similar.

“All bastards are brothers in some sense,” Rhys responded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Before Feyre could ask Cassian said, “And I command Rhys’s armies.”

Feyre nodded, shifting on her feet slightly before her eyes glanced to see Azriel taking another glance in the emissary’s direction. She looked right back with a smile that showed a clear fondness for the spymaster. The moment went as quickly as it came when Az turned his gaze to Feyre. “Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand, good luck.”

Feyre was giving more attention to not being recognized as the girl Under the Mountain. She wondered, for just a moment if they knew––maybe they didn’t. That was quickly  answered when Cassian nudged past the Night Court’s spymaster requiring Az to flare his wings to keep himself balanced. Feyre watched Y/N’s hand fall to Azriel’s lower back to assist. Feyre noticed the fleeting moment of eye contact between the spymaster and the emissary, but it quickly became a second thought as Cassian asked his question about how Feyre had made the bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair, when as he put it, “you looked like your own bones could snap at any moment.”

Y/N shot Cassian another pointed gaze, but it turned into a grin after Feyre made a sarcastic comment of her own. The general laughed and Azriel’s eyebrow lifted with approval as the shadows swirled around him, tighter. Feyre’s need to understand the gift only furthered when the shadows swirled up and around Y/N’s wrist playfully, before weaving around the ends of her hair.

Her curiosity once again was pushed to the side when Feyre heard, thankfully, a familiar voice…Mor. “I hope Cassian’s howling means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”

Y/N quickly whispered something into Az’s ear, his shadows lightened slightly from around him. Feyre’s curiosity about the nature of their relationship increasing.

“I don’t know why I forget you two are related,” Cassian told Mor, while glancing over at Rhys for just a moment. “You two and your clothing.” The High Lord rolled his eyes, but Feyre had her own focus on the emissary and the spymaster who were both standing in silence, stealing glances at each other.

“I wanted to impress Feyre. You could have tried to make an effort to comb your hair,” Mor responded.

Cassian braced his feet a little farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance Feyre recognized, perhaps too well. “Unlike some people, I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours,” the general bit back.

“Yes,” Mor the said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “since swaggering around––”

“We have company,” Azriel said in a soft warning, spreading his wings as he tried to herd everyone.

“Relax, Az,” Mor said as she dodged the spymaster’s outstretched wing. “We won’t fight. We promised Rhys.”

Feyre barely noticed Az stop in his tracks, letting out the smallest of huff and his shadows seem to become thicker. She then watched as Y/N took one of Az’s hands in her own, gently pressing her lips to the back of it. His shadows lightened around him. Apparently the question about their relationship reached Feyre’s face because Rhys leaned down slightly to say, “They’re mates. Azriel and Y/N. They’ve known each other a little over 500 years and been mates just under 500.”

Feyre considered that fact, thinking there was something delicately beautiful about nearly 500 years of commitment between the two. Now she just had a few thousand more questions about the court’s spymaster and emissary. Question she decided were for another time as Mor indicated the empty seat beside her. Feyre knew the image of Az whispering into his mate’s ear and the twinkle in her eye would be etched into the back of her mind forever.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #feyre archeron #rhysand x feyre #cassian #morrigan #mor #3rd person pov

[harperbrynne]

SJM Romance Week: Free Day

Gwyn: Are your shadows flirting with me?

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

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

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

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

@sjmromanceweek

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

[illyrian-dreamer]

Overwritten – Part 3

Azriel x Reader

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

Warnings: Violence

Words: 1,384

--------

Part 3 ∇

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do it quick, you found yourself begging.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

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

I love you, Y/N.

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

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

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

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--------

Part 4 >>>

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

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

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

[kindasleepywriter]

Bird of Prey ~ Chapter 8: Forging a Warrior

Bird of Prey masterlist. Azriel x Reader.

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

Story rating: Mature - Minors DNI

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

Word count: 2.6k

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

Azriel laughed and shook his head softly at the comment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Banner created by the amazing @saradika!

Taglist: @sapphenaa @minnieoo @weasleyreidstyles

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

[romanticatheartt]

The most beautiful thing

Feyre: "Standing before me was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen"~acotar, ch.20

Rhysand: “You are,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I thought that from the first moment I saw you on Calanmai." ~acomaf, ch.55

Lucien: "She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen."~acowar, ch.24

Cassian: "In the moonlight, before the silvered lake, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen."~acosf, ch.50

Nesta: "The music was no longer the most beautiful thing in existence. He was." ~acosf, ch.57

Hunt: "She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen."~hoeab, ch.69

Ruhn: "Ruhn found himself faced with the most beautiful female he’d ever seen."~hosab, ch.31 (and so many times in hofas! 4 times to be exact)

Aelin: "He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen." ~EoS, ch.38

Rowan: "The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Aelin." ~KoA, ch.5

Dorian: "It’d be a shame to lose the most beautiful woman in the world so soon into her immortal, wicked life." ~EoS, ch.42

Chaol: "The most beautiful he’d ever seen." (About Yrene's eyes) ~ToD, ch.39

Chaol: "Chaol thought it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard." (About Yrene's laugh) ~ToD, ch.43

Elide: "and his smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen." ~KoA, ch.117

First of all, I still haven't read TOG but my sister has, so I asked her.

Second, idk if anyone has noticed this… but Feyre and Rhysand both thought they were the most beautiful thing they laid their eyes on when it was night and under the stars. Cassian while she was under the moonlight and Nesta when they were at Court of Nightmare. But Lucien… he Thought Elain was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen when it was daytime and sunlight was streaming from the window! maybe it's a consequence but I love the detail nonetheless.

Third, 7.5 couples -expect for Manon and Dorian which their story ended with a cliffhanger- out of 9 are endgame... I don't see how Elucien is any different. (This might not seems a very strong reason but it's one of the many pattern sjm has for her endgames) Even when Chaol and Yrene are human, they have a very deep connection. (my sister's words hehe)

And last, I read somewhere that in the books we normally have the MCs to call the LI the most beautiful because in their eyes, they are. And I agree with that so much! Because they're in love, they're their person so that's why they're the most beautiful thing they've ever seen<3 and I think maybe that's why sjm keep using this phrase specifically.

Yeah anyway… I love how sjm copy+paste her mating bond (aka endgame) language.

#feysand #elucien #nessian #ruhnlidia #pro elucien #I can't wait for Azriel or Gwyn to say something similar<3 #I can't wait for Elain to say something like this!! #I need Elain pov so bad... #I need to know what's going on inside her head