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utterlyotterlyx · 28 days

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Moth To A Flame

Summary - Azriel has a new friend in the form of a diary to talk to, and you are completely enchanted to find out exactly what they talk about.

Warnings - F L U F F F F F F F F F F, pining, wholesome all round

Word Count - 4.1k

Based on this ask

Winter Solstice was a magical time of year, one that had become even more meaningful with the additions of your ever-expanding family.

Before Feyre, it had just been you decorating the house and instructing Cassian to help you, scolding him when he would inevitably pop open a bottle of wine and find a nice couch to perch on whilst he barked unhelpful comments in your direction. The only good thing about Cassian's laziness was that Azriel would always show up to help you, whether that be resting his hands on your hips to keep you steady as you strung up the garlands, or getting on a ladder himself to reach the higher points that were beyond your reach, he was always there to assist.

Since Feyre, you were gifted with a band of women who wanted to help, Feyre reached the highest corners of the room, Elain made fresh garland rings from whatever she could find in the gardens of Velaris, and Nesta was meticulous in the placement of all of the decorations. Wine flowed and music played, and your heart had never felt so full and content.

That solstice had marked Nyx's fourth year within your special little family, and each year, the gifts had become more extravagant for the little one.

You had opted to stay in that morning and skip the annual snowball fight, choosing to watch it from the window with Elain as you both spent the morning preparing the meal you were going to feed to three huge Illyrian bats a few hours from then. Lucien had also opted to stay behind, his reason being to make sure that your wine glasses stayed full which earnt him a teasing glare from Azriel before his eyes flickered to you in silent conversation.

Snow floated down softly from the skies and you watched with a quiet giggle as you noticed Nyx reaching his little limbs upward to the sky in Feyre's arms, grasping at the flakes that were just in reach for him to capture. Then your watchful eye moved to Azriel, the male you were so irrevocably in love with who had no idea of your affections.

It was odd, for Azriel, a male who dreamed of a mate so badly, of real true love, to not see what had always been right in front of him. Though you had to give it to him, you weren't exactly forthcoming with your feelings in fear of being rejected.

Presents had been neatly arranged in piles, thanks to Lucien, and you had made sure to make everyone aware that each person had a certain coloured wrapping paper, you had told them it would make life easier since the family was too big now to spend time reading labels. Rhys had rolled his eyes at you, but pecked your cheek with a smirk at your usual perfectionist antics before agreeing and stalking off to make sure it was imperative to your plans that they do as told.

Life hadn't always been so perfect.

You had come from nothing, no family or title were bestowed to you, and you had unfortunately found yourself being sold to the Illyrian camps to entertain the males there before Rhys and his brothers had found you and taken you in. There was something about you that captivated them, and the more time they spent with you, getting to know you, the more they fell in love with everything that you were. Kind. Selfless. Loyal. Fierce. Their family wouldn't feel nearly as complete without you in it.

Azriel had smirked when they had re-entered the house, basking in the glow of another victory whilst you barked the exact place where they all needed to sit in front of their towering piles of presents. You had gone overboard again, you always did every year, showering them all in gifts which you never expected to be returned. That was the gift of you, all you wanted was for everyone else to be happy.

The house smelt divine. Baked chestnuts and cranberries, pine and candied oranges, and whatever honey you had put on the meat. All of their mouths were salivating at the thought of sitting down at that table and turning into feral beasts at the platter you had spent weeks planning and preparing.

A seamlessly planned gap had been created, a perfect moment for you all to sit down together and open your gifts before you bolted back into the kitchen and ordered Rhys to keep your wine topped up. It was the least he could do after all.

Your pile was nestled between Azriel and Mor's separate towers, the space on the deep seated sofa between them left free for you also. Azriel's eyes roamed your figure as you dipped into the kitchen and returned with a fresh glass of red wine, your bare feet padded along the floor and the short silver chrome dress that you had chosen to wear swayed with each step, grazing against your naked thighs.

Azriel thought that you were absolute perfection, to pure for their world, too pure for him to foolishly believe that he stood a chance with you.

Your scent drifted past him as you shimmied through the gap between his knees and the table, molten caramel apples and basil, a smell he could scent from any place he stood, no matter how far or near he was from you.

All of the piles were as you had ordered, in specific coloured papers, and the beaming smile on your face made all of the hassle of running about town worth it.

Everyone began opening their gifts in turn. Mor had flung her arms around you when she had opened a glittering red floor length dress that you had custom made for her. Feyre was beyond happy at the paintbrushes that you had inscribed her name into, Nesta was thrilled with her books, and Elain's bright eyes sifted through the cookbooks and ornate garden tools you had imported from Dawn. Another jewel for the firedrake and she was content, Cassian was audibly grateful for the armour you had gotten him which held a bit for flare than his current leathers, with golden sockets for his siphons which melted into the taut black leather of the skin.

Azriel shouldn't have been surprised when you went as far as to import delicacies from the Spring Court for Lucien, an assortment of baked goods and herbs that almost brought a tear to his eye. You knew how much Lucien missed being able to have a home, and you knew that Spring was the closest thing to a home he had ever had bar Elain.

Rhys howled in laughter when he unwrapped his matte black lint roller with a violet handle, promising to use it often before opening his real gift, a piece of art you had commissioned of himself, Feyre and Nyx at Starfall a year prior, covered in stardust and smiling brightly. Thoughtful as always.

Then you turned to Azriel, noticing he had opened most of his gifts apart from the ones that were clearly from you by the state of the perfectly wrapped edges and cobalt blue ribbons. He felt your eyes on him, pools of adoration he always found himself searching for, and he met your gaze as you handed him a small square box that rested in his palm.

Unwrapping it, navy velvet welcomed his eye and he looked at you with a small frown, listening to your silent urge to open it to find a thin onyx leather bracelet with a hot white glass pendent at its centre. The light swirled and danced like it was alive, growing more active as he inspected it. "What is it?"

Smiling, you took the bracelet from the box and secured it around his wrist, your touch alone sending electricity coursing through his veins, "I've been experimenting with my power," you told him softly as the room continued unphased in its own conversation like neither of you existed, "It's a piece of my soul," your fingers rested on his wrist and he felt his heart thump in his chest, "It's just so you know that you know I'm with you to light the way whenever you need it."

Azriel exhaled with disbelief, feeling unworthy of such a gift. A piece of your soul. So that you would always be with him.

"Y/N," he breathed, "This is- Thank you," he would give anything to be able to lean forward and capture your lips in his, but instead he restrained himself and reached for your own gift from him in your pile, wrapped in shiny silver paper with intricate embellishments of flower petals.

You hadn't opened a single gift yet, too entranced in everyone else to take a moment for yourself, but you obliged the man you adored so much and ripped open the paper that encased a long box.

Opening it, your eyes widened as you took in the blade in your fingers, an exact match to Truthteller but with a hilt of diamonds and beautifully forged embellishments, "I realised that you didn't have your own, I hope you never have to use it but just thought you'd like one," your stunned silence made him fidget with his fingers and he watched you carefully pick the blade up and turn it in your hands, "Do you like it?"

"I love it," it was beautifully lethal, just like you, "Thank you, Az. Really."

The afternoon continued and you couldn't stop glancing to the open lidded box on the table as you sat nestled under Azriel's wing, sipping from your wine as he opened his last gift, from Nesta, who was busy placing the new hairpins you had gotten her into her staple coronet. Azriel tore open the paper and tilted his head, looking up at the eldest Archeron sister who raised a brow and smirked, "It's a diary, Az. People use them to write down their thoughts and feelings, some people draw in them," you snorted at the condescension in her tone to which Azriel nudged your knee playfully before thanking her and thus wrapping up the present exchange.

It had shaped up to be the most perfect solstice any of you had ever seen.

In the weeks that followed solstice, the snow melted away to give new life to the earth below, and the sun peeked out from the mountains to cascade Velaris in its heavenly glow.

During those weeks, you noticed a subtle change to Azriel, how he would fly away at dusk with his diary secured to his side, to only return an hour or so later seeming lighter and more determined. The subtle changes and the increases of his affection only made you more intrigued to find out exactly what he was writing in that book.

He had caught you far too many times tiptoeing into his bedroom, curtly telling you with a smirk that the diary was nowhere to be seen before pecking your forehead and sending you on your way.

Azriel had been much more attentive since solstice, he rarely took off the bracelet that you gave him, and you liked to think that the glow of your soul coaxed him into sleep, a thing you knew he struggled with often. Even Rhys had told you that Azriel had left his door open one night, only slightly ajar, but enough to Rhys to see him reaching to the ceiling and looking longingly at the pendent which contained your essence atop his pulse.

It was frustrating for your family to see it, to see your mutual pining but watch the other be clueless to it. Azriel had brought you flowers, brought back trinkets from his travels, he would brush up behind you and allow his shadows to feather across your lower back, he'd even cooked for you, something no one had ever seen before. Then there was you, giving a literal piece of your soul to the male, and even that wasn't enough for Azriel to see how in love with him you were.

"I'm calling it," Cassian panted as he rested on the stone pillar of the training ring beside Nesta, watching Azriel jog to catch up with your retreating form and his shadows drawling over your shoulder, "They're mates. They have to be."

"You're too late to that bet," Nesta quipped, wrapping her mate's hands up tighter in the leather straps, "We've all put money in, we bet on how long it would take for them to realise and for the bond to snap."

"And you didn't tell me?!"

Nesta scowled playfully, "You'd cheat," she prodded his armoured chest with her finger, "It has to be natural. They deserve that much."

Weeks ticked by and the group were getting restless, even Nesta, who was stubborn to let the pining play out, was getting annoyed.

Nesta knew exactly what Azriel wrote about in his diary each day, he wrote of you, she had caught a glimpse of a passage when he had stupidly left his diary in the library one night and he had sworn her to secrecy since then, but also sought her out to speak about you, about what he should do.

And Nesta no longer saw a problem in nudging him in the right direction.

"Is she still sniffing around your diary?" Nesta had asked, they were splayed across the seating area in the River House whilst you and Mor had disappeared to Rita's for the evening.

Your essence glowed on his wrist, he heard the whispers of your voice emit from it and sighed with a faint smile on his lips, "Everyday," he told her, looking upward at the ceiling and wondering what you were doing in that moment, "She's too good for me, Nes."

Humming in disagreement, Nesta sat up and craned her neck to look at her friend who was clearly thinking of the woman dancing the night away in the centre of Velaris, "Azriel," she deadpanned, "Y/N gave you a piece of her soul so that she would always be with you. Show her what you wrote. I assure you it can only go in the way you want it to."

Hint? No. Spelling it out for the dumb Illyrian? Yes.

Realisation hit him and he bolted upright, he gathered his diary in his fingers and raced upstairs, stumbling past a confused Cassian who stared after his brother before turning to his mate, mouth full of one of the cupcakes you and Elain had baked that morning with wide eyes and a accusatory tone muffling his words, "You cheated!" Crumbs flew from his mouth and Nesta flipped him off.

"You know the money is ours right?"

Cassian flopped down beside her with a grin, "I knew there was a reason why I loved you."

Painful throbs growled at the balls of your feet as you walked up the path to the house with your heels stabbing at your thigh. Intoxication hadn't found you but you still had an amazing time dancing the hours away with Mor and Feyre, giggling and talking about men until you were all talked and danced out.

Golden firelight greeted you, and your dreary eyes scanned the room to find Azriel sat before the fire but turned toward the door where you stood in a floor length black dress, with two long slits that kissed your mid thigh and a plunging neckline held up by two thin ropes.

Azriel's hair was tousled, his hazel eyes were warm pools that beckoned you to dive in, his skin was golden and glowing in the light, and he sat there with a look of wonderment that you had never seen before.

"Az? Are you alright?" You closed the door behind you and made you way over to him, noticing his neck crane to keep his focus on your face as you approached him.

Azriel had pulled the table toward him and a familiar black leather bound book lay open on the table in front of him, "Come here," his voice was low but soft, pleading but not commanding, he patted the space beside him and you sank down into it, "I wanted to show you something. I know I've been hiding this from you, but I want you to see it now."

The book was soon in your hands, and closed, the thing you had been after for so long, "Are you sure?" The idea of his diary in your hands felt wrong, like a delicious invasion of privacy.

"More sure than I've ever been," he nodded downward, giving you the permission you needed to open it.

The pages were filled with words and charcoal sketched, and you took a moment to flick through the filling book before you focused on certain pages.

Bright eyes, unbound hair, and a toothy smile greeted you over a two page spread, your eyes followed the curves of black, and you gasped when you noticed what, or who, you were looking at. It was you. Azriel had drawn you on the pages of the diary Nesta had gifted him. In the time he had disappeared at dusk to be alone with his thoughts, he had chosen to let them wander to you.

You looked to him and noted how he had shuffled closer to you, the warmth of wing draping over your smaller form and his shadows dancing across your shoulders.

"I think in a way this diary is for you," he urged you to carry on, watching carefully as you flipped through to the beginning and scanning the words he had littered on the pages.

To anyone else, they were just a bunch of randomly littered words across the page, a waterfall of sayings and phrases that had come from your lips. Words and phrases that you said often enough for Azriel to take the time to write them down.

On the next page was two lists, one of the things you loved and another of the things you hated with small scribbled beside certain ones depicting when exactly Azriel had noticed.

Flicking through, it dawned on you that the entire diary was full of you, your jokes and mannerisms, the things that made you laugh, passages of your favourite poetry, drawings of you.

"Az, I-"

"Keep going."

So you did, you kept flipping the pages, allowing your fingers to graze against his written word as you read through his thoughts until you reached one page in particular.

Y/N,

I may never have the courage to tell you how I feel, and maybe writing it down will give me the courage to let you finally see what I have been hiding.

I tried to remember the day when everything in my life began to make sense. I went so long feeling lost and alone, of feeling destined to a life of solitude, and then you happened. You brought a joy to my life, to all of our lives, that we didn't know we were missing. I don't think you realise just how amazing you are.

I am in love with you, Y/N.

When you're around I know everything is going to be alright, and when I'm away, all I think about is you. I look at that damn bracelet all of the time, hoping that it was just some thoughtful gift, but a sign of something more. You are fluent in me, you speak my language in ways that even I cannot, and I can't walk this earth without you by my side. I refuse.

I may not tell you everyday that you mean the world to me but you do. The day you entered my life, even when you were petrified, you changed my life into something so beautiful and meaningful, you make me feel seen. I may not be the first man in your life but I intend to be the last, I intend to be the only one who can make you feel loved to your core.

There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. I will love you in your weakest moments and brightest of days, I will love you when you don't love yourself, I will love you even when you don't want me to, I will love you until the earth swallows me and even then I will follow you to the next life. There is nothing on this earth that can take me from you, not even death can force us apart.

Between universes, oceans and moons, I am so lucky that I got to step onto the same land and dream under the same stars as you; and I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of any reality, I would find you and I would choose you.

I love you, Y/N. I'll write it and say it as many times as you need me to, whether that be verbal or not, in whatever way you need me to say it, I will.

You have me, until the last star in the galaxy perishes, you have me.

You didn't realise that you were crying until you saw your tears splatter onto the page. In an instant, Azriel was cupping your face in the hands that only you found comfort in, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks as he felt your longing and love flow through him.

Felt your longing and love flow through him.

Azriel tensed, his eyes went wild and wide as he searched your soul for a sign for anything to confirm what he had just felt pang in his chest. The pressure was building and his actions confused you, he was panting, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm.

You reached for him, resting your fingers over his heart and feeling the world flip on its axis at the singular contact, energy exploded around your forms, white oceanic waves rippling with intertwining shadow, shrouded in a golden shimmer.

The sight was beautiful, so beautiful that it stole your attention and you watched as your essences danced with one another, and his shadows rallied to join in the celebration. Azriel's breath was warm against your cheek and you tore your gaze away from the display above your heads to meet his tearful eyes.

"We're mates," his voice was soft, so gentle, and he ran his fingers down the side of your face, sighing with a smile when you nodded.

"Nesta is going to be thrilled that she won the bet."

Azriel threw his head back and laughed, tears of pure happiness spilling from the corners of his eyes as he fell back to your level, "Bet?"

"They all betted on how long it would take us to realise that we love each other. They thought I didn't know."

"Beautiful smart creature," Azriel purred to you and you felt a blush creep to your cheeks, a blush that was soothed by his shadows curling over it, he slowly closed the gap between you, his lips hovering just before your own. "How rude of us to keep them waiting."

Azriel noticed your line of sight flicker between his eyes and downward at his lips, "Extremely," you breathed and Azriel wasted no time in pulling your face toward him and connecting your lips in something that could only be described as universe shifting, like the entire galaxy was holding a collective breath and watching you fall into one another.

There was a hunger behind it as his tongue danced with your own, you felt those golden threads snap into place, you heard the string connecting your souls hum in appreciation and yearning for what was no doubt going to occur behind closed doors.

Just as Azriel was about to scoop you into his arms and take you somewhere more private, a shuffle of feet and a groan sounded by the stairs.

Pulling apart, you saw Cassian stood there with giddy eyes, "GUYS! NESTA WON!"

The house and its inhabitants collectively snarled, "FUCK!" Rhys cursed from somewhere upstairs followed by Nesta's victorious chuckle whilst Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at you both, you buried your head into Azriel's chest to contain your red cheeks.

Azriel shrouded you with his wings, forcing you to look up at him, "Let's get out of here? I'd like a night alone with my mate."

"Say it again."

"Mate," he kissed you, "My perfect, incredible mate," he mumbled onto your lips with a smirk, cradling you to his chest and growling at Cassian for whatever crude remark he had made before soaring into the sky with you pressed to his chest with plans to make you his over and over again.

Authors Note

Got a little carried away but this has given me life x

I'm drafting the next parts to some of my series tonight for tomorrow, what do we want prioritised? New Pages? A Fate Inked In Starlight? Can't Keep My Hands To Myself? When I Kissed The Teacher?

Let me know x

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angelshadowsinger · 2 months

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Scarlet-Tipped Secrets; Peonies, for You

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: angst

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐓𝐖):

hanahaki!au, TW gore/vomiting (mildly descriptive— it’s bloody petals), unrequited love, themes of depression and lack of self worth, pining (so much pining), & dramaaaaa

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

When you develop feelings for your best friend, you delude yourself into believing you can ignore them for the rest of your life, if it means you can stay by his side. But once he starts seeing someone else, you discover that if you continue keeping your secret… your time on earth may be cut short. You find yourself with an impossible choice— remove all attachments to the shadowsinger and live, or hold out hope and suffer the consequences.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

This one goes out to all my angst girlies. My ladies who like the feeling of tears crawling onto your pillow, of hurt balling up in your stomach as you wander through a fic. I see you and I feel you, and I cooked this one up special just for you.

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

Mates do not exist in the universe that this fic is set in, meaning Elain is not “off limits” to Az, and Cass is single. Additionally, since mates aren’t a thing, marriage/weddings are!

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

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

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

The first time it had happened, you had been more confused than anything.

Azriel had just given Elain a gift for Starfall; a pair of earrings that would glow a warm pink when kissed by the sun’s rays. Her cheeks turned the same color as she admired them, as did the tips of the shadowsinger’s ears.

Just one smooth petal rested in your palm as you brought your hand back from covering a cough, pink and delicate and beautiful. You thought that maybe it had landed in your palm before you coughed— even if there were no peonies in the vicinity and you hadn’t even seen one in months. Because there was no way that it had come… out of you.

The second time it happened, confusion became fear and it swiftly took root deep in your stomach. This time, it was a couple of petals, dewey in your hand as you turned away from your friends, shock running through you.

Azriel and Elain were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the love seat in the living room of the House of Wind, spirits being passed around by everyone and laughter filling the air. They had just shared a look you could infer was meant to be a secret between only them, but you had unfortunately witnessed the action. You could hardly breathe as you quickly hid the evidence of your newfound predicament, dumping the petals into a potted plant beside the mantle. You hoped that you were slick; taking a slow sip from your glass in an attempt to rid your throat of that tight, scratchy feeling even though your body was screaming for you to gulp it down.

In that moment, you realized that something was wrong with you. It would only take a few more petal-filled fits and two trips to the grand library of Velaris to discover that you were— to put it simply— completely, wholly, and undeniably doomed. It was there, during the early hours of morn and the empty, candle-lit corridors that you learned three things;

You were in love with your best friend, Azriel.

He was in love with someone else.

And you were going to die.

—

Things between you and the shadowsinger hadn’t always been so difficult.

Your relationship was, for many years, easy and left you feeling light; every conversation and interaction cherished. Initially, the pair of you had become fast friends; the other members of the Inner Circle even remarking on how he was usually a little slower to build relations. Perhaps something of your sense of self, intelligence, and silver-thorned wit had something to do with his initial intrigue. That was the guess Feyre ventured, anyway.

Once your friendship with the elusive male had blossomed, it was easy to maintain. Though you didn’t see him every day, when he did pay you a visit, the two of you made the most of it. The Inner Circle liked to poke at the pair of you, even going so far as to joke about your relationship that was not a relationship. And you and Azriel took it like champs; never wavering, always keeping it light in good fun.

But at night when you would crawl into your sheets and close your eyes, sometimes thoughts of him would find you. It was wrong to be thinking of your best friend like this when he so obviously would never feel that way for you, and yet… you pondered how his fingers would feel tracing across your naked back. You wondered what it would be like to melt into his arms at the end of the day, how his heartbeat would sound if it was just inches away from your ear, if you could lay your head on his chest.

You tried, you really did try to stop the thoughts from coming. But they quickly became more vivid, and more frequent than before. You couldn’t rid him from your mind— couldn’t focus when he came near, couldn’t hold up your end of the witty volley you usually shared because you’d get flustered if you stared at him for too long. Slowly, you had come to realize that the jokes your friends loved to make weren’t just conjecture— they knew all along that something was there.

It made you wonder if Azriel knew, too.

He was undeniably one of the smartest males you had come to know— your appraisal of him was sparkling, stellar. But when it came to things regarding emotion— specifically, his own emotions… he tended not to be quite as adept. So you had now landed in this confusion-fogged purgatory. Either your best friend knew you harbored feelings for him and he did not return them whatsoever— acting ignorant of your emotions. Or he didn’t know you were in love with him, didn’t even see a romantic relationship with you as a possibility, and maybe… if he were enlightened, he would realize that he… loved you too.

It was that very hope that had you holding out for so long. You so desperately wanted to believe that he just wasn’t aware of your feelings— of his— that you smushed your dignity down and continued to uphold your friendship, never revealing that you felt romantically attracted to him.

But the waiting game, of course, came back to bite you in the ass. Because the moment you realized he had started to see someone else… you knew that you had deluded yourself for months. All those nights that you laid awake, fantasizing about him and how he would proclaim his love to you… they were just fantasies. Nothing of the sort would ever happen.

Because now, he had Elain.

Her— the Archeron sister known for her gentle spirit and her striking face. She was quiet, and sweet, and goddamn breathtaking. Of course it had to be her; it couldn’t have been some bitch that would actually be deserving of your hatred. Because he was perfect, why would his choice of life partner be anything but? You couldn’t think of a bad word to say about the woman.

Elain had always treated you with polite kindness, a sense of regality emanating from her and her ethereal beauty. Though she wasn’t by any means your favorite female, there was nothing she had ever done to justify even a grain of dislike. You couldn’t say your few conversations had been riveting, nor her presence been warm and inviting… but they hadn’t been the opposite either. Your opinion on her was removed, but pleasant. Hell, if you could stand a blow to the ego, you might even admit you were jealous of the looks almost every male gave her when she entered the room.

The jealousy certainly ramped up once you realized that your beloved shadowsinger was one of those males… and actually, he was the only one she seemed to return interest toward, which of course… was salt in the wound.

As the weeks dragged on, their supposedly-secret affair began picking up speed. The sight of Azriel’s warm hazel gaze pinned to her made your stomach churn with unease, the petals itching up your throat more and more often. It became easier to just avoid the both of them in general, and with the absence of their presences, it was easier for you to pretend that everything was fine, and that you could handle your worsening condition on your own.

But of course, that was not the case.

Because after a few months, the Inner Circle gathered in private quarters above the Night Court Annual Starfall Ball. Thousands celebrated and swirled below you in the ballroom and yet you could only focus on one. It was then that the man who haunted your thoughts stood before the rest of you, pretty Elain tucked under his arm all giddy and shy, and announced they were engaged to be wed.

—

Warm liquid trickled out from the corner of your mouth, your ears ringing as your vision blurred in two, wide waves cleaving and then melting together again.

The crisp air felt welcome on your flushed cheeks, cool on your inflamed, ragged lungs. Stars danced above you as they pelted across the sky, and in your haggard state, they seemed to smear into a disorienting and beautiful masterpiece.

Someone was kneeling in front of you, large wings casting shadows around broad shoulders as they yelled something you couldn’t quite understand. The warm smell of them was comforting and you relaxed slightly, recognizing it was Cassian and slumping as his calloused hands came to hold your biceps.

The spliced image of him made it too hard to read the words on his lips. You tried to sit up but your body was drained, making it impossible to move. The Illyrian gathered your limp form into his arms and your head lolled to face the ground, finally piecing together what had happened.

A pile of pink, lush petals glistened up at you against the dark stone of the balcony floor, the light from the full moon sparkling off droplets of deep scarlet. It had happened again… and this time, it was even worse than before. You had had another episode— the evidence of it glaring even in your semi-conscious state.

“You’re in love with him…,” Cassian said slowly, barely even audible.

But you heard it— your body trembling with some sick concoction of shame and relief. For so long you had not uttered a whisper of your feelings, never daring to take ownership of them, let alone share them. There were no words that you could muster, nothing sharp or bright for you to make a response. You were just tired. Indescribably tired. Gods, you were so tired, your limbs felt as if they had turned to stone, and you could slumber for a thousand years.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” the male growled, squeezing your limp form closer to his firm chest. “I swear, he… Gods, this is fucked.”

You closed your eyes and allowed his body heat to seep into you, finding a small bit of comfort there. Cassian didn’t choose to say anything else as the waves of sickness gradually dissipated, leaving you weak and numb.

“Cass,” you rasped, barely able to get enough air to speak. “I’m scared.” Your head felt as if it was filled with a thick smog— struggling to get enough oxygen as you slowly recovered.

The General’s brow furrowed in pain at your pitiful confession, gathering you closer to his chest and tucking your head in tight beneath his chin. “I know, sweetheart. But you’re not alone. You don’t have to do this by yourself, not anymore. I’m here.” Cassian held you so delicately you wanted to cry, guilt pulsing through you as you realized he must have been terrified to have found you in such a sorry state. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, woe taking root deep in your chest. Now that you had seen Azriel with her— like that, so clearly in love with her, parading their affections out in the open, for anyone and everyone to see as he twirled her around the ballroom earlier… It was too much. Every part of you throbbed in agony, and you were consumed in fresh throes of self-pity. It was completely humiliating to be this debilitated. All because you were in love with your best friend, and he was in love with someone else.

Cassian scrunched his brow, the planes of his chiseled face settling into solid lines as you regained your bearings. “There’s no need to apologize, Y/n. You didn’t ask for this— how you feel is not your fault. Your body is already punishing you for simply having feelings— don’t let your mind join in on the beating too.”

You nodded, tucking your hands into your chest as he sighed and stood, taking you with him. He lifted you into his embrace with the utmost ease, as though you weighed nothing more than a sheet of paper. Your evening dress fluttered with the movement. If anyone caught sight of you two from far away, perhaps it could be construed as romantic, the way he now held you in his strong arms, strolling away from the party.

“You don’t seem as… freaked out as I thought you would,” you whispered as he walked with lethal quiet. Shadows stood tall above you as you approached the hedged boundary of the estate gardens, cutting into the overwhelming display the falling stars continued to put on.

Cassian was quiet.

You took a minute to study his somber expression, trying to read what he was feeling in this moment of recollection. Clearly, he had some experience with this disease before. Otherwise, he would’ve ran you right inside the ball, or to the nearest healer. But he didn’t— instead, he’d wandered into the dark hedges of the grounds, concealing you from prying eyes and ears. As if he understood what you would want most in this moment of shattering vulnerability.

“I’m not sure why you expect so little of me, little one,” he eventually replied, coming to the center of the area. He perched you beside him on a wrought-iron bench, facing a small fountain whose gentle gurgle drowned out the last hints of the celebration you’d left behind.

You frowned. Your lungs felt looser— distracted by whatever it was that provided Cassian with experience regarding your dreadful illness. It was nearly enough to forget the bomb that had been dropped on you upstairs just twenty minutes ago. “It’s not that, it’s just—“ you began. Cass shot you a playful look and you sighed, a smile daring at your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Okay I just meant that before this, I’d never heard of this kind of thing…” Your voice trailed off, hand reaching to rest on his before you murmured, “I’m sorry you have.”

The Illyrian raised a brow and let out a short, hollow laugh. “Oh no— It wasn’t me, I don’t… Well, never that bad anyway. I’ve just seen… how bad it can get. An old friend of mine once had the unfortunate experience of falling ill to this plague centuries ago.”

You nodded and put your hands in your lap, digging a thumb into your palm. “What… happened to them?”

Cassian closed his lips and sighed, hands bracing his knees. Silence drew out for a long beat before he finally spoke. “He told the one he loved about his ailment. And they told him..,” he trailed off, gaze darting sideways to land on you. You gestured for him to continue, and he did so after a brief pause. “They told him they would never have romantic feelings for him. They asked him to have the procedure. They wanted him to live, and if they couldn’t love him… then that was the only way.”

You shuddered. The very notion of the procedure made your bones ache and your shoulders sag.

“So he did,” Cassian went on, undeterred. “And he survived.”

Quiet invaded the still air, otherwise only interrupted by the low chirps of crickets in the grass and the muffled party. Cassian decided not to speak any further on the subject, instead content to let a calm silence settle between the pair of you. But somehow, you found yourself talking— despite never having voiced aloud any of these feelings, any of these thoughts.

“Cass, do you think… I should have the procedure, too?”

It was a question that was fully weighted— heavy, you already knew, but by the way the Illyrian’s shoulders sagged, the gravity of it all seemed more drastic than before.

Cassian took his time to form a reply, but when he finally did, it was in a soft and hushed voice. “I am not the one that should be making such calls, Y/n. But I will tell you that my friend… he was never quite the same.”

You shared a look of understanding with him— he was your friend, and the male you were in love with was his brother. Freshly engaged brother, at that. The consequences of the procedure would certainly crack a deep fracture in the dynamic of your group. If anything, you would probably fade away from everyone, seeing as every one of your memories that the Shadowsinger dwelled in would be tainted— his absence removed entirely. He would not exist to you anymore, and even if that wouldn’t necessarily affect you, oblivious to his existence, everyone around you would not share that same luxury.

And Azriel would be there, too. He would have to see you and know that you had loved him so intensely, that those feelings were so wholly one-sided, that you had to physically remove him from your mind. All so that your heart could forget him and start anew. Would that bother him? Knowing that you had suffered because you had fallen in love with him, while he would never possibly feel that way for you? Surely that would make him uncomfortable, to be in your presence after that. So ultimately, it would be best to just move away, and start somewhere else— clean slate. Would he even miss you?

“Sometimes I think about it— the procedure. This disease, it’s a wretched way to live, Cass. It hurts,” you said, voice cracking as emotion welled up in your eyes and throat. “It hurts so fucking bad, I can’t even be around him anymore. Especially not now. Now that he’s…” You trained off, unable to say the words.

Cassian slid to your side, tucking you underneath a strong arm. The shadow of his wing furled around you from behind, encasing you in a warm, safe space. Tears began to race down your cheeks, gathering at your chin and splattering onto the silken fabric on your lap. You couldn’t stop them— still too drained from the fit from before. All you could do was cry as your friend gathered you closer to him, patting the top of your head with careful strokes, trying his best to comfort you.

Only once your crying seemed to subside did Cassian offer another solution. “Maybe… you could talk to him.”

You laughed— a hollow, broken sound. Cassian lips curved up at the sound nonetheless. “I’m simply nowhere near as brave as you, Cass.” Shaking your head, your gaze focused on the bubbling fountain before you. “Even if I could manage to face him, and confess to him… If he rejected me… I think I’d die on the spot.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, voice low.

You bit your lip. “And why not, Cass? There’s a good chance that I could drop dead any time I have one of these fits. That’s just reality.”

“Well fuck that reality,” Cassian spat, wings ruffling. “I don’t want to live in a world without you, and I sure as hell know Azriel wouldn’t either.”

“Well maybe I don’t wanna live without him!” you yelled. After holding back your emotions for so long, they just kept flooding out after the hole Cassian had punched into the dam that had kept them at bay. “Maybe I’d rather die than lose even one memory with him, maybe I’ll just hold out for as long as I can because I’m too fucking scared to lose him!”

Cassian’s face twisted into agony. “And what of those who love you?” he challenged, voice shaking slightly with emotion. “What about us, what happens when you die, and when the last memories we will have of you were you withering away before our very eyes?! You love him? Do you know what world of pain he will be in when he finds out what happened to you? And then to discover your absolute complacency in the matter?”

A sob escaped you as you felt every word of truth pierce the feeble veil you had called a shield in your attempt at denial. Your friend was right— you couldn’t allow this disease to win, not if that meant hurting everyone you loved in the process. And now that you thought about it— even if you chose to remember him, and let the sickness take its course… what good would those memories do you, when you’d be dead?

Cassian seemed to realize you had accepted defeat, because he tightened his hold on you and stroked your hair as you cried into his chest. The sadness you felt unfortunately was not alleviated by your tears, but at least… you had come to see that there was only one option forward.

You had to go through with the procedure.

You had to forget Azriel.

𝘩𝘪 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴!! 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 <3 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘪𝘤, 𝘚𝘛𝘚𝘗𝘍𝘠~ 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦! 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘻𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯~

𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘮𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 2 & 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯!!

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#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #angelshadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst #my work #azriel x you #STSPFY series

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imaginesmai · 5 months

Text

Taken - Azriel

This is long and this is messy. I don't know where this came out, but shoutout to @marscardigan because she requested this fic so long ago I almost forgot. Enjoy the ANGST.

This is a fic inside the baker!reader universe from Right around the corner. You don't need to read the fics to understand but it will help you!

Plot: you're taken in the worst possible situation, and Azriel fights against time to find you.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, blood, wounds, death (not main characters).

You should have closed the bakery a while ago, you knew. You should have also taken a few days off and relay on Elain a bit more. As a matter of a fact, there was a long list of things you should have done better, most of them converged in the last month, but you were busy. And stubborn.

A very busy, very stubborn, very pregnant baker who was closing the bakery way too late.

You had been lucky that morning when you had won the first argument. It was Nyx birthday in a few days, and the boy wanted a special cake with the shadows of his uncle. And you had been working on it even if you were supposed to be on house arrest, only because Azriel was with you at all given time.

But that day, your mate had a meeting and he couldn’t stay with you, so originally you weren’t supposed to go. Originally. Since Azriel loved Nyx as much as you, he had agreed to leave you at the bakery on your own and not chain you to bed.

You hoped that agreement was still valid if he discovered how late it was.

“Alright” you muttered, looking down at the cake with your hands resting on your swollen belly. “I think it’s coming just fine, huh? One more floor and it’ll be the event of the year”

The cake had a base covered in black chocolate, small curls that simulated shadows coming from the bottom. You had already finished the worst part, and had the rest of the shadows ready in the oven for tomorrow.

While you admired your work, you rubbed your hands absentmindedly across your stomach. At the beginning on the third trimester, you looked ready to give birth. Maybe it was because of the wings, or maybe the baby already took upon his father’s size.

“I hope your tastes are less expensive than your cousin’s” you said, smiling when your rubs were answered by a strong kick. “That didn’t feel like agreeing”

The shadows that were already yours pushed you once more to the door, like they had been doing for the past hours, since the sun came down. Raising your hands up in defeat, you took the first step back home.

“Alright, I’m going. I’m going” you chuckled as they pressed more urgently now that you started walking. “I’m fine, it’s late but I’m finishing. Promise to put my feet up when I get home”

Talking with the shadows and with your baby was as common as talking to yourself. Just as Azriel, you seemed to understand what they wanted to tell you. You endured their constant tugging and pulling as you closed off the bakery.

Only when the door was locked and you turned to take the few steps to your house, you realized just how late it was.

“Oh” you blinked, looking around you. The babe sent another, softer kick.

The street was empty, the night silent. Not even the few cats that purred in the shadows happened to be there that night. Even though it was a summer night, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you put the key on your pocket and took the already usual wobbly steps.

At any given moment, you liked to think, you would have been more aware. Azriel had trained you for it, his family had too in the last years. But still, that one time you would have used any of that training, you couldn’t.

Your hand only made it to the knock of your door when the faebane arrow went clean through your shoulder. A clothe covered your mouth as the few shadows tried to blind whoever was behind you, not given you any time to scream or call for help. Gripping onto the last thread of consciousness, you tugged on the bond.

The meeting was taking far longer than what he would have liked.

It was supposed to be easy, to talk the problems out and to let Keir go with a warning. That was why Rhysand had asked him to come along, so that his shadows would snoop around while the male was busy. Because, if the high lord had known it would take so long, he wouldn’t have dared to separate Azriel from you.

Since you both solved your last argument, things had gotten better. He was ready to give himself to you, to become a better man for you and to be what you needed. And seven months ago, it had kept going – you were pregnant, with his child.

And if Azriel thought you were beautiful before, watching your body swell with a new life, watching you become a mother, made you perfect. The thought of you and your future child was what kept him put during hours.

He had known you were at the bakery alone; had known he was supposed to be home before dinner. But he waited, because he didn’t have a reason not to. Azriel felt a tug at the bond during the meeting, and sent a reassuring pull back.

He waited, until Keir left and he put a foot out of Hewn City. Cassian was waiting for them with his arms crossed, his back to their brothers.

“Missed us much?” Rhysand teased, letting himself smile for the first time in that day. “Is staying with – what’s wrong?”

Cassian turned around and his face fell. Azriel recognized earlier than Rhysand the fall of his shoulders, the slump on his wings. There was tension and pain written all over his face. His spymaster-mind ran over a few possibilities before his brother locked eyes with him – an attack to Velaris, an update about Beron’s plans, the revolution in the human’s lands. He even had time to worry about Nyx.

Then, he locked eyes and his breath got stuck in his throat.

“What?” he blurted out. The look on Cassian’s face threatened to swallow him down a spiral of panic. “Cassian, what?”

“What happened?” Rhysand asked, although he was already reading the general’s mind.

“Y/N’s been taken. Don’t know where yet or why” the general spoke, without dropping Azriel’s burning gaze. “I’ve got guards up in the sky and through Velaris”

“Taken?” the high lord asked again, frowning.

“Your shadows came into the wind house, somehow… Nyx knows. He told us what they saw. We are looking for her already, don’t panic. We will find her”

Rhysand could see through Cassian’s eyes, the burst of Azriel’s shadows and a crying Nyx in his room, waking him up. His son telling him about the shadows warning him in his sleep, asking the general if it was true and why they said that.

He looked at Azriel, who looked as pale as the bone wall behind them. The Illyrian tried to come up with something to say, just as he had done in so many similar occasions. It was him who remained calm when Rhysand went under the mountain, when Nyx’s life was threatened just after he was born. Azriel made plans, he was a skilled warrior.

Still, he could only tug on the bond and horrify at the emptiness that came back.

“I can’t feel her” he confessed, finally looking away from Cassian to Rhysand. “Why? Why can’t I feel her?”

“She isn’t dead” his brother answered immediately. “You would know. It’s the faebane, you won’t feel her if they have used it. Cassian, what do we know?”

“No smells, no traces. Bakery was empty and her apartment too. They must have taken her in between”

“Who would fucking take a pregnant woman?” Azriel blurted out. “She’s pregnant. She’s – fuck! In between? It’s – it’s two steps! There’s no space in between!”

“What else?” Rhysand ignored him.

“They sent a note”

Azriel’s panic died down for a moment when Cassian handed his high lord the note. He quickly snatched it away. Barely able to keep in place, he turned his back to his brothers and shamelessly used his shadows in his favor.

He heard his name being called, felt Rhysand demanding to be let in. His own power wasn’t a match for the high lord’s, but it would keep them out enough to read the note.

One of the first rules he applied when it came to kidnappings was to keep the family and loved ones out of it. They didn’t think clearly, and without wanting to, could endanger the victim. But it wasn’t just a person, it was you.

So, ignoring his own rules, he opened the note.

If you want Y/N and the baby safe, the spymaster will present himself at the given coordinates before sunrise. Impaled with faebane and with no hidden tricks. Once we deem so, we will deliver the girl in Windhaven.

Each hour past sunrise will be paid. Don’t be late.

We do not appreciate being hunted.

There were words, that made sentences, and that should have made sense. But all Azriel could see was your name, the word baby, and feel his chest tighten. That wasn’t a clue, there was no way they would find them before sunrise and bring you home to him. Right then, he understood why they kept family out of those types of matters.

The note was snatched out of his hands by a very angry looking Rhysand, with a pained Cassian behind his back.

As Rhysand read the note, Azriel let himself have a moment of sorrow. He turned every emotion upside down, explored them instead of refusing to acknowledge. For years, he had feared the possibility of you being taken from his side. There would be time to panic once he had you in his arms, to worry about the baby once he could touch your belly once more and check your pulse and breathing.

Azriel tugged on the bond once more, feeling the crushing emptiness back. There was nothing, and he was threatened to become nothing too. Instead, he tugged on the faint, thin bond that was still developing. It was barely a thread of your own, fragile but promising.

The bond with your child had been the cause of your discovery. One day it was only the two of you, and then Azriel felt something else. He tugged on that and, even if he didn’t receive anything back, he knew.

“They’re in the mountains” he looked at his brothers. “Can’t say where, but far from Windhaven”

“How are you sure?” Cassian asked, but Rhysand smiled knowingly. Sadly.

“The other bond. You shouldn’t pull too hard, Az. It’s – “

“I won’t. But I’m not letting one second go if I can find her” Azriel cut him off with a hard look. “You’re wasting your time in Velaris”

“Don’t you dare, Az”

Cassian words were lost in the wind as he winnowed away, Rhysand barely touching his forearm. He knew he shouldn’t tug on the bond so soon in his child’s life, that it would only put him at risk. Risk an early labor, risk your discomfort. But if it meant it would take him back to you, he would rip the word apart piece by piece.

You didn’t know how, but after all those years, all those good memories built that replaced the bad ones, you just knew. You recognized the painted walls, the stains on the ground, and the smell from the fire.

Nothing had changed over the centuries that had passed by, you realized. The tavern was just as terrible as it had been, just as dirty. They were just as tall and broad as they were, although not that many. And you were that scared girl that they ripped their wings from, tucked into a corner.

While they stared at you, you only hug your belly and tried to keep your tears at bay.

You had woken up a while ago, and they had only whispered between them. From what you had gathered, they didn’t expect the pregnancy, and were worried about it. The one who had clipped your wings so long ago wasn’t around, thanks to Azriel, but you recognized their faces.

You also recognized the blood stains on the ground and walls, courtesy of your mate and probably the reason you were in that position.

“It has closed” one of them broke the silence, frowning. “Why has it closed so soon? We just took it out”

“Must be the babe” the taller one, whom you remembered to be called Sandor, shrugged.

“It’s the third time – “

“All right, girl, you already know to stay put” Sandor sighed, as if it was a simple routine.

You refused to talk, refused to anger them just like you had done in the past and pay for your actions. It wasn’t just your life in the game, and right then, your priority wasn’t it.

With only the moon light through the window, Sandor knelt in front of you and grabbed a clean arrow. Two bloodied ones were discarded on the ground, ripped out of your shoulder and arm. Apparently, they didn’t want to risk you healing around the arrow, in case it would somehow affect the baby.

That didn’t mean they weren’t willing to stick another one once the wound was closed and there was a chance of Azriel feeling you through the bond.

For a moment, Sandor hesitated. It was clear that he wasn’t comfortable about your belly or the situation. Hurting you to get Azriel might had been fine, but hurting pregnant-you was debatable.

“Just do it, man. You might already ring the bells and light a bonfire” the nameless one snapped.

“Do you want to do it?” Sandor turned around on his knees. “Clyde, I’ve got a pregnant woman at home. And she looks ready to burst”

“It’s not your woman, it’s his. Do you want to stare at what used to be Burton?” Clyde pointed to the darkest stain. “Tell him if he wants to consider, take his time”

As they argued, you finally felt it. A tug, a breeze, nothing more than a feeling, but it was there. It was Azriel pulling at the bond like his life depended on it, with so much strength you were sure he was using power that wasn’t only his.

You blinked surprised at the change. It had taken you all your willpower not to panic when you woke up feeling nothing on the other side, and they hadn’t let enough time for your body to recover from the fae bane to feel it again. But as they argued, you silently cherished the discovery. Maybe it was the baby’s strength, maybe it was the cauldron leaning in your favor or any other force, but not only you were healing fast – you were getting the bond back.

Still looking at them, you tugged back. The bond went silent for a second, and you pressed against it again. You were hit with an overwhelming amount of worry, of fear but also love and relief. Azriel’s emotions became yours, and you were so glad it was about to be over that you unfocused your gaze.

It was enough for Clyde to notice your far-away look, and realize what was happening.

“Fuck, she’s warning him!” Clyde rushed forwards, taking the arrow out of Sandor’s grip. “You think you’re so smart?”

You blinked your fogginess away when he walked towards you, coming back to your senses. There wasn’t enough amount of love or assurance Azriel could send you that would stop you from panicking.

“No, wait” you pushed yourself farther into the corner as he moved closer, screaming at Azriel as loud as you could through the watered bond. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”

“You knocked-up, useless, brat” he gripped your ankle and pushed you towards him, your back and head hitting the ground. “Let’s see how you tell him this”

The momentary pain of hitting the ground wasn’t enough to drown the anguish of having a new arrow dug into your leg, just above your knee. The ceiling became blurry and his voices tuned out as you screamed in pain, your bounded hands trying aimlessly to break free.

You couldn’t remember the pain from the first one, seeing you were knocked out, and Sandor had managed to make the other one hurt less. But Clyde pushed his body weight onto your leg, the bottom of the arrow piercing the ground. You looked up and watched horrified as blood started leaking out through your pants and under your leg.

Moving away from him only caused the arrow to shift, but being near him was putting your baby close to the monster. So, in your panic, you tried to ease the pain by lifting your leg while shifting farther into the corner.

“How’s the bond now, uh? Is your pussy boy there?” he chuckled, while Sandor looked away. “Go on, tell him how bad we are”

“We should move” the third one spoke for the first time. “If he has felt her, he knows”

“You heard the boss” rough hands tried to push you up while you cried out.

“No” you repeated, letting Clyde put your whole weight up and almost collapsing after him. “Please, just let me go. Let me go”

Gone was the keep-quiet-don’t-talk. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks as Sandor stepped on your other side, holding you up a bit gentler than Clyde. Your baby started kicking on your side, and between the pain and desperation, you felt like throwing up and passing out.

Their chatter as they discussed what to do next was background noise. Certainly, they weren’t taking the arrow out that time, risk or no risk of being sealed inside and affecting the baby. You could barely stand up between your kidnappers and remember how to breath at the same time.

You wanted Azriel, that was the only thing you were certain. You shouldn’t have closed so late, you shouldn’t have gone to the bakery on your own, and you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed that morning. The baby agreed with you, answering each thought with a powerful kick to your kidneys and bladder.

You tried desperately to think about positive things, to keep yourself sane enough. Closing your eyes, you thought about him. His hazel eyes, that shone with a special light when he saw you between the crowd. His mouth, that curled up so lightly every time you stared at him. The freckles in his cheeks, that one that snuck up to the corner of his eye.

You could almost hear his voice reminding you to breath carefully and gain control of your body when the pregnancy pain hit, and you tried to do the same. Taking a deep breath through your mouth, holding it in. Letting it go through your nose.

“Oh, sure, because winnowing her again is the best solution, right?” Sandor scoffed loudly.

You moved your toes lightly, relieved to notice that despite the burning and overwhelming pain, you could still feel everything. From your feet to your head, you twitched every part of your body, finally able to breathe through the pain.

That didn’t mean you could move without them hauling you up, or that the baby was anymore happy.

“Enough! We’re moving now. Grab the things. We winnow – “ the anonymous man startled you, making you look up.

“I need to go the bathroom” you whispered, although it was heard as if you shouted it.

Three pair of eyes looked at you with raised brows, one pair certainly more annoyed than the other two. You didn’t know how far had it been since they took you, but it was still night time. During the last weeks, you had been paying a visit to your bathroom at least once every two hours.

And that was being generous.

The babe kicked again against your bladder, making your knees wobble. If you didn��t catch a bathroom, in a minute, you would have to let go.

“Sure. Do you want me run a bath too? Clyde, you could massage her feet. Is our lady tired of standing up for so long?”

“Nestor, she’s pregnant” Sandor was the only one looking slightly affected by your request. “My Lorren – “

“Your Lorren is home and we are here. Stop with Lorren!” Clyde let you go to push Sandor’s shoulders, which made you stumble back.

“I’m not carrying her if she’s gonna pee herself”

“She’s gonna be a big girl and hold it, right?” Nestor gave you a tense smile. “And you’re going to winnow her to the cabin”

“I’m not taking her to the cabin, man”

And while you stood up and waited for them to decided where to take you, you felt your bladder giving up. It wouldn’t be the first time you peed yourself, and with the strength your baby was kicking you right then, you were amazed that you managed to hold it for a few seconds.

Clyde and Nestor kept arguing loudly about the cabin, while Sandor just looked at you with a scrunched nose. You would have felt embarrassed, but you were in pain, you were scared and tired. It was hard to stay standing at any given moment with your belly. Whether it was the wings or the baby’s size, you were heavy.

The discomfort of the arrow was starting to become secondary. Even though you had just peed yourself, you still felt the kicks against your bladder – and almost against every part of your soul. You gripped the only thing available when another wave of kicks hit you, that being Sandor’s arm.

The man realized at the same time you did what was happening, although he didn’t have time to voice it out.

“Damn it!” Clyde barely missed the door coming out of its hinges. He didn’t miss the knife that embedded itself on his throat.

“Sandor, shoot him!” Nestor yelled to his friend, who was too busy keeping you off the ground now that the only support was holding his open neck. “Shoot!”

“Pathetic”

His voice was like a cold breeze in the summer, the feeling of his shadows helping you gently to stand up making your breath speed up once more.

Azriel appeared like a dark angel through the open door, his eyes not even leaving you as he stopped an arrow with his bare hand. His wings covered the moon behind him, but they didn’t stop the next figure coming through. Before Clyde hit the ground still chocking on his last breath, Rhysand had winnowed himself and Nestor out of the tavern.

You briefly wondered if death by Azriel’s hands right then would have been better than by the spymaster’s hands later.

Your mate said nothing as Sandor was ripped out of your side. Only by gripping his arm and pulling him away from you, you heard the awful crack of his arm breaking into two.

Sandor cried out, only getting a few seconds to acknowledge his arm before his left wing is ripped out of his back. Azriel’s shadows assessed your body with a sickening speed, coming to the same conclusion you had.

You were lowered softly onto the ground, silently watching what Azriel had always hidden from you. The unleveled part of him, the one that came out when someone he loved was in danger. He feared that part would take you away from him. But as you watched your mate tear Sandor to pieces, you only felt relief at his presence.

The male wasn’t done screaming for his life when he fell dead to the side. His mangled body was blocked from your view by training leathers and tearful hazel eyes. Everything he had felt during the last hours, that he had denied himself from so he would find you, crashed hard.

His scarred hands held your face while he scanned your body, stopping on your untouched belly and bleeding wound. He didn’t even flinch when he touched your soaked pants to pull it out.

The pain you were in in that moment prevented you from feeling anything more than a discomfort at the pull.

“You’re alive” Azriel cried out, not holding his tears back. “I thought – for a moment, I thought… I couldn’t feel you. And then I did, but you were gone. I didn’t know what had happened. I almost died, Y/N. You’re alive. You’re okay”

“Az” you whined, one of your hands gripping his shoulder harder than it was necessary.

“The baby’s bond… I followed it to the mountains. I know I shouldn’t, but I pulled it” he placed one hand on your belly, laughing tearfully when he felt a kick back. “I love you. I love you both so much”

There weren’t words to explain what Azriel had felt in the last few hours. How he had stumbled down into the snow when he had felt your end of the bond alive, how desperate he had been to follow it. Then, it had gone dark and if it wasn’t for Rhysand following him, he would have crashed right there.

He was glad his brother had been there, that he had taken a male away for questioning. Once you were safe and with Madja, he would make sure to take his time.

Azriel pressed a shaky, wet kiss to your forehead, then another one to your nose. He kissed each and every tear that had stained your cheeks in the past hour, finally pressing his lips against yours.

When he moved back, ready to winnow you both back to Velaris and hold you close for a week, he was surprised to see new tears running down your cheeks. What he thought was terror for the kidnapping, the anguish of your captors, hadn’t left your face.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned, leaving his own despair for later and looking back at your body.

“Az” you repeated.

You had realized what was happening before him, had known just before Sandor. His shadows couldn’t possibly understand what was happening, and so, Azriel didn’t. Any pain you had felt during that night paled away from the complete, absolute fear the crippled you as you stared at your mate in that dark tavern, where your worst memories had taken place.

“I’m here” he reminded you, his hand caressing the belly. “Where does it –“

“It’s coming” you finally admitted, watching the realization hitting him. “The baby’s coming”

It had felt like peeing yourself, like normal kicks, you guessed. What had given it away was crippling, motherly realization that your baby wanted out. That bond that had connected you to it was more present than ever, and somehow, you knew.

Azriel paled even more if that was possible. Right there, sitting in the dirty, bloodied and now empty tavern, your water had broken. You wanted to break down crying, because of course, given your history your baby would choose that moment.

When Azriel didn’t say anything, you lip wobbled again. Because, if he didn’t have the answers, who would?

“It’s coming” you said again, feeling like a broken record. “What do we do? What -?”

“I’ll winnow us to Velaris” Azriel interrupted you, knowing the answer before saying it.

“Madja said we can’t” you reminded him, although he already knew. “Oh God. Az, it’s coming. What do we do? I’m having a baby. I’m having a baby!”

Indeed, one of the first things Madja had advised you against was winnowing while pregnant. So close to the date, it would only trigger an early labor – and on the date, it would be dangerous to the baby and you. Rhysand would be back in Velaris by then, probably thinking you two were just fine and happy together once more.

And winnowing away to warn him and bring someone was out of the equation, since he wouldn’t be leaving you for a while now.

So Azriel gathered himself together and gave you a hesitant smile.

“We can do it” Azriel whispered, not sure of the truth behind his words.

“What?”

“I’m not leaving you. We’re here together, and we can do it. Madja told us what it’s like” Azriel tried to sound confident for you, for the both of you, but it came out as a question.

“We’re having a baby”

The first rays of sun entered through the empty space where the door was as you stared into his eyes. You could risk winnowing back and losing the baby and your life, or you could send away Azriel and hope he made it in time back with Madja or any other healer. Neither of those options felt like surviving to you, so you nodded at him and willed that tear to be the last one.

Azriel leaned in and kissed you softly. His lips were salty, from his tears or your own, and kind. While his shadows brushed every available part of your body, you let yourself forget about the closing wound, about the trembling of your knees and the pain in your belly.

Kissing him would always feel like the first time, like fireworks and Starfall. His nosed brushed your own and his tongue deepened the kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, the hair there already covered in sweat. Even it was cold with the morning breeze, you were ready to get out of your body.

The kiss ended way too soon, just as another kick, or contraction, hit you harder than before. You sucked a breath and almost stumbled to the ground.

Azriel was quick to roll his sleeves up, lowering you until you were laying on the ground. Looking up at him, he gave you reassuring smile and hesitant nod.

“We’re having a baby” he squeezed your shoulder.

You tried to smile as another contraction hit and the first scream broke the silent morning.

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parkerslatte · 4 months

Text

Finding Home || Part One

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: loneliness.

Summary: Azriel never thought he would find someone who loves him. Everyone around him has their own life and family and he feels like he is floating between them with no real purpose. When he meets someone in the rain, everything might begin to change.

Finding Home Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

A/N: I might make this into a series if people enjoy it…because I have many ideas.

•••

In his whole life, Azriel just wanted to be loved by someone. Over his five centuries of existence, he has taken plenty of lovers, both females and males. Though to each and every one of the people he had lain with, he never felt any sort of attachment to them. They had never spent the night with him, when he awoke in the morning, the other side of the bed was empty and cold, a clear indication that they had left hours before. Some left a small note thanking him for a good night but most left with no word never to be seen again.

At the beginning, this did not affect Azriel. He was simply young and looking for a bit of fun. But as time has gone on, the more Azriel longed to wake up next to someone. To have the side of the bed warm and the sound of his love walking about the house. To feel the soft caress of their skin as they fell asleep with each other's arms. Whispers of loving words exchanged before they both drifted to that relaxing, unconscious space only dreaming of one another.

Azriel longed for that. He longed for a home. He longed for his own family.

Nyx was nearly ten years old and Feyre was again pregnant with her and Rhys’s second child. Cassian had recently told Azriel that he and Nesta were trying for a child. Azriel was happy for them, elated even. But there was a small stinging pain in his heart. The pain of knowing that his family was moving on with their own lives without him. They each had their own families to care for and worry about. He was no one's priority.

At Solstice, Azriel was always the one standing on the sidelines. Rhys had Feyre. Cassian and Nesta. Lucien had Elain. Mor had Emerie. Amren had Varien. Every single member of his family had someone that they cared for and would die to protect. Azriel could only wish he had that type of love.

There was once a time where he thought he and Elain could work out. Three sisters for three brothers, it all made sense in Azriel’s mind. But after that initial lust faded away, Azriel realised how incompatible they were. Their conversations turned stale and awkward and Azriel would always catch her sneaking glances at Lucien. It wasn’t long before Elain began to pursue the youngest Vanserra– leaving Azriel alone once again.

Currently, Azriel swirled his whisky around in his glass. He hadn’t taken a sip from it as he stood near the door. It was Solstice and all the presents had been exchanged and now everyone was happily sitting and talking, lounging around on the couches and chairs. Azriel was the only one not sitting. His shadows swirled around the room, as they usually did whenever everyone was together. If anything were to attack, Azriel would be the first line of defence. Everyone else had a family or were going to have a family, they had everything to lose– he didn’t.

There was a pull at the bottom of Azriel’s trouser leg and he glanced down. Elain and Lucien’s one year old daughter sat there smiling up at him. Azriel offered her a smile as one of his shadows caressed her cheek and she let out a delighted giggle. Using his pant leg, she heaved herself from the floor and demanded to be picked up. Azriel’s face clouded over in amusement as he bent down and took the young fae into his arms.

The girl simply looked around, not used to being up so high. Azriel watched her look of amusement with fondness. Her red hair bright in the dim lighting of the room, and her deep brown eyes wide in wonder.

“Hycinth?” Elain said as she looked around for her daughter before relaxing once she found her in Azriel’s arms.

As soon as the young girl heard her mother, she struggled to get out of Azriel’s arms and he let her down without a fuss. She crawled over to her mother and up onto her lap while Lucien watched his daughter fondly. Azriel folded his arms across his chest, his heart feeling like it was being poked by a million pins. Nyx was sleeping with his head resting on Rhys’s. Nesta was sitting in Cassian’s lap, looking so in love with each other that it made Azriel stop breathing. The same went for all of the couples, they had so much love for each other that they could only focus within their small circle.

None of them even noticed when Azriel slipped out of the house and into the night.

It was raining when Azriel got outside, his clothes immediately soaked through and his hair was plastered to his forehead. Though he didn’t care in the slightest, he continued to walk through the torrential downpour until he made it to a bench by the park.

He should have stayed at the house, it would only bring to the surface more questions as to why Azriel was distancing himself from his family. Seeing them altogether was always bittersweet for Azriel. Of course he loved his family, he always would, but seeing them together with their own families and their own lives. Azriel was not sure where he slotted in amongst them anymore. He didn’t have anyone to love. He didn’t have his own family. He was alone.

The rain continued around him and Azriel didn’t move. The chill of the wind and his soaked clothes only made him colder but he didn’t care. He would stay here all night if he had to, for the rain to wash away everything he had been feeling tonight. Tomorrow he would start with a clean slate, maybe he would feel better about everything tomorrow. Azriel hoped when he woke up everyday that this was the answer. He hoped that he woke up one day and did not care. But Azriel knew that the cycle was always doomed to repeat itself.

As Azriel was deep within his own thoughts, he failed to notice the rain no longer falling upon him. It fell around him but never on him. He wasn’t broken from his continuous strain of thoughts until he felt a soft tap on his shoulder.

Azriel’s head snapped in the direction the touch came from, his shadows swirled around his shoulders like snakes preparing to strike. What Azriel didn’t expect was a female holding an umbrella over his head, staging at him with concern.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “It’s just…you’ve been sitting here for an hour. I walked past earlier to buy some bread and you were here and I’m on my way home now and you are still here. I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

Azriel was at a loss for words. Anything that he could say was lost on the tip of his tongue. Articulating his feelings was never his strong point.

“It’s raining a lot,” the female said, trying to have a conversation. “It seems to be raining a lot more recently. Have you noticed?”

“I have noticed,” Azriel muttered.

“So he does speak,” the female said, a small smile gracing her features.

Azriel met her eyes, and for some reason, he felt himself smiling back. It was probably barely noticeable to her but to him, the feeling felt foreign.

“So,” the female said, taking a seat on the bench next to Azriel. “Are you okay?”

With a heavy sigh, Azriel answered, “No, actually. I’m not. It’s Solstice, I should be spending it with my family but I’m sitting out here in the rain alone.” Azriel couldn’t stop the words freely flowing from his mouth. “I tried to enjoy myself, I really did. But all of them each have someone they love to celebrate with. They each have someone to go home with and have their own celebration. They have children or are going to have children and I’m just there by myself. I just constantly feel so–”

“Alone?” the female cut in.

Azriel’s gaze met hers and she held a sympathetic expression on her face. “Yes. I feel alone. And I don’t even know why I am telling you this. I don’t even know you.”

The female shrugged. “Sometimes it's good to get things off your chest, even if it's someone you don’t know. It can sometimes be bad to keep everything bottled up.”

Azriel relaxed his shoulders the smallest amount. “I do feel slightly better after getting that off my chest.”

The female smiled brightly. It somehow lit up the darkness around them. “I’m glad I could help you relieve some tension you are holding in those shoulders. I’m Y/N by the way.”

“Y/N,” Azriel repeated her name. It felt right coming from his mouth. “I’m Azriel.”

Y/N looked away sheepishly. “I did have an idea of who you are.”

“Oh,” Azriel replied, feeling slightly disappointed.

“I didn’t know when I first walked over here,” Y/N said. “I only realised when one of your shadows did this.”

Y/N held up her arm and one of Azriel’s shadows lightly caressed her wrist. Azriel’s eyes widened.

“I’m so sorry,” Azriel replied, reeling in all of his shadows. “They don’t normally do that.”

Y/N chuckled slightly and it was a melodic sound that cut through the air. “It’s okay.”

Azriel nodded before he looked down at the ground. “So, why are you out on Solstice?”

Y/N offered him a tight lipped smile. “Well, my friends all have their own large families to spend Solstice with. I was invited to a few of their houses but decided to stay home and have a night to myself. I’m only out because I needed to pick up some bread because I wanted to make a sandwich.”

“Are you not lonely?” Azriel asked the question before he could even stop himself.

Y/N shook her head. “Not anymore. At first I was, I mean when your friends start moving on without you, everything seems to change so fast. All of their time was taken up by their children and partner. But as time went on, I began to get used to it and realise that I’m not lonely as I have people around me that love me and support me. I am simply choosing to be alone right now,” Y/N said. “And I’m glad I did, because I wouldn’t have bumped into you. Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome.”

Azriel flushed and looked down at his feet, not expecting the compliment. Y/N simply laughed. That melodic tone once again cutting through the air.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” Y/N asked. “I can make us sandwiches?”

Azriel knew his answer immediately but took a moment to answer as if he was contemplating the decision. He didn’t want to look too eager. “I would like that.”

Y/N smiled brightly. “Come on then! The sooner we get there, the sooner I can change into some dry clothes.”

Azriel looked at her and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. While she had been shielding him with her umbrella, she hadn’t held it above herself, causing her clothes to soak through, much like Azriel’s.

“Take the umbrella back,” Azriel said, pushing her hand away that was clutching the umbrella.

“No,” Y/N said stubbornly and grabbed Azriel’s arm and forced the umbrella into his hand and folded her arms across her chest. “You take it and keep hold of it until we get to my apartment. Now come on.”

Azriel followed her and fell into pace next to her. Even though she was putting on a determined face, Azriel could see through the facade as she shivered as the cold rain poured down upon her. Stretching one of his wings, Azriel lifted it until it shielded her from the rain the best he could. Y/N looked up at him in surprise, her shivering ceasing the smallest amount as his wing blocked out the wind.

Y/N smiled at him as she hesitantly wrapped her hand around his arm. “You are getting my most amazing sandwich for that.”

A full smile bloomed on Azriel’s face as he walked with Y/N to her apartment. Maybe he didn’t need to be so alone after all.

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

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azriels-shadowsinger · 7 months

Text

Confessions (Azriel x Reader)

summary: you and azriel are best friends, but his flirting with elain has become too much for you to bear, so you decide to try to move on.

wc: 3k

a/n: !!warning: mentions attempted SA!! This is the first real fic i have written in years so it’s probably shit but if you decide to read this thank u and i love u.

Read Part Two

For months now, you have been fairly upset about seeing Azriel pining after Elain, but even more annoyed that your friendship with him has become insignificant to him now that he spends all his time with her. About a decade ago, you decided that being hopelessly in love with Azriel was pointless since he would never see you that way, so you settled for friendship. It’s better to have him as a friend than not at all… or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. Mor is the only one who knows about your crush and has kept your secret, but not without constant pestering to tell him how you feel.

“He’s in love with Elain, Mor. I’m over it and over him. I’m ready to move on.” You lie as best you can to her and to yourself.

“You’re so full of shit. But fine, I’ll play along. When we go out tonight, you’re finding someone to go home with!” She says excitedly while finishing her eyeliner. Mor forced you to put on a tight, navy party dress that barely covers your ass instead of letting you wear your go-to little black dress.

After she finishes getting ready, the two of you head down to your room to grab your lipstick, but when you open the door to the hallway, you see Azriel and Elain at the end of the hall whispering and standing only inches from each other. You ignore the ache in your chest at the sight and turn the opposite direction to head to your room, refusing to look behind you when you feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

———

Rita’s was crowded, as per usual. After about an hour of drinks and dancing, you were decently drunk and had forgotten all about Azriel… well almost.

“Can I buy you a drink?” You hear a male say from beside you. He’s tall and fairly handsome, but nowhere near Azriel’s level of attractiveness- damnit you need to get him out of your head!

“Sure. I’ll have what you’re having.” You try to say seductively, but it just comes out awkward. Gods, when was the last time you tried to flirt? He chuckles and orders your drink. Mor gives you a wink from across the bar and disappears into the crowd with a stranger.

After a while of talking, you decide this guy, Mikael, is exceptionally boring, but the night is almost over and he’s your only option. Anything to forget a certain dark and mysterious shadowsinger. Why not try to have fun?

“Do you want to come back to my place?” Mikael whispers in your ear. No reaction. If Azriel had been this close and whispered something to you, you would be all goosebumps and blushes, but with Mikael… nothing. Fuck, this is probably a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and try again another night.

“Y/n?” His voice pulls you out of your daze. “I asked if you wanted to get out of here.” He says a bit annoyed while sliding a hand up your thigh. Gods, this guy is kinda an ass. This is definitely a bad idea.

“Um… I’m pretty tired. And I came here with a friend, so I should probably find her to make sure she gets home safe.” You slowly stand from your chair to leave. You immediately stumble and feel much dizzier than before. You were never good at handling your liquor, and apparently tonight was no exception… except you don’t remember drinking enough to feel this drunk. Mikael’s hand grabs your shoulder to stabilize you, but his grip feels too tight and he doesn’t let go once you balance yourself.

“Cmon honey. We were having a fun night, let’s keep it going.” He leans too close for comfort, giving you a slimy grin. You pull away and stumble back.

“I really should find my friend. I’m sorry!” You say nervously and look around for Mor. She’s nowhere in sight. Shit. She probably either left with that girl thinking you were gonna go home with Mikael or she’s lost in the crowd. Either way, you just need to get away from Mikael. You stumble towards the door, feeling dizzy and seeing double. Each step feels slower and heavier than the last, but you finally step outside, savoring the winter chill that will hopefully sober you up. Just as you take a step outside, you feel a hand grab your wrist too hard and pull you towards the alley next to Rita’s.

“I spent a lot of fucking money on your drinks tonight, so I’m not gonna ask again. You’re coming home with me.” Mikael’s whiskey breath is inches from your face, making you want to gag. You want to scream for help. You want to kick and fight back, but your body feels weak and your vision keeps getting blurrier. After a moment, you slump onto Mikael and he helps you walk down the sidewalk. To everyone else, you probably look like a drunk girl whose boyfriend is helping her home.

No. No no no. You need to get away. You need someone to notice you aren’t okay. How the fuck did this happen?

You hear a voice behind you and your feet stop moving. It’s too blurry and dark to see, but soon you’re on the ground and someone is yelling. You shut your eyes, accepting whatever horrible thing is about to happen to you. But suddenly you are in someone’s arms, and a moment later you’re inside somewhere. You open your eyes, and despite the blurriness, you recognize your blue curtains. You’re home. Somehow.

Mor must have found you and winnowed you home. Thank the gods for that. You are set on your bed and covered you with blankets.

“Thanks… thanks for finding me, Mor.” You slur and curl into your blankets. “I think that guy… put something in my drink.” Your voice trails off as you become incredibly sleepy and shut your eyes. Mor sits you up and forces you to drink some water. Your eyes feel too heavy to open, so you keep them shut.

“Just… don’t tell Azriel about this. It’s embarrassing enough to go looking for a quick fuck to get over my crush, but it’s even more embarrassing to get fucking drugged by someone in the process.” You get the words out slowly between sips. Thinking about everything that just happened tonight should make you want to cry and vomit, but you’re too tired to do so. When you finish the water, you lay back down and immediately fall asleep.

———

Your head is pounding and the sun is shining too bright. Someone is yelling outside your door. You roll over in bed, half expecting to see some male, but thankfully you are alone in your room. You don’t remember much from last night, but apparently your attempt at a one night stand was unsuccessful. Probably for the best.

The yelling gets louder.

“She was on the fucking sidewalk outside Rita’s!” You hear a male voice yell. Azriel’s voice. Why is Azriel here? And why is he so damn loud?

You slowly make your way out of bed and to the door so you can tell him to shut up, but as soon as you open the door, you see several worried faces staring back at you. Mor, Rhys, Cass, Feyre, and Azriel all stare at you. Mor looks like she’s crying and Azriel is red in the face with a murderous expression.

“Can you all shut up? I have a head-“ you start

“Y/n I’m so sorry!” Mor hugs you tight, almost knocking you over.

“What the…” you start to question before you’re cut off again.

“Do you know his name, y/n? I’ll make sure he is taken care of.” Rhys asks. His voice is gentle, but his face is full of anger.

“Like hell you will. I would’ve killed him last night if I didn’t have to get her back here. I should’ve fucking killed that piece of garbage.” Azriel mutters.

What the hell is going on? You pull away from Mor and face the group.

“Does anyone care to tell me what we’re talking about?” You ask cautiously while rubbing your temples in an attempt to alleviate your headache.

“Of course she doesn’t remember you guys. Give her some space.” Feyre says softly and leads you back inside your room with Mor. The three males protest, but Feyre gives them a stern look and shuts the door. “Sit down, y/n. I’ll tell you what’s happening.”

You sit on your bed and look between Feyre and Mor anxiously.

“You were found outside of Rita’s being carried by a stranger and you were close to unconscious. You’ve been asleep for almost the entire day now.”

You stare back in stunned silence. The memories slowly start to return, but before you can ask a question Mor starts tearing up again.

“You don’t know how sorry I am y/n. You were hitting it off with that guy and next thing I knew, you were gone. I thought you went home with him like you planned, but when Azriel told me-“

“Azriel? Wait… what?” You ask.

“Azriel found you and brought you back here. He made sure you were safe before finding me and going ballistic on me for not watching out for you. I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to let you get hurt!” She cries again.

“I don’t understand. I vaguely remember someone bringing me home, but I could’ve sworn it was you, Mor, not Azriel.” They both shake their heads. You sit silently and process the information for a minute before saying the only thing that may be helpful in this moment.

“His name was Mikael. He had dark hair, hazel eyes, and wore a red shirt.” You whisper, still in shock. Feyre’s eyes glaze over for a moment as she relays this information to Rhys. Suddenly its completely quiet outside your door.

———

You spend the rest of the day in your room, still exhausted and fighting a hangover. Or the after effects from the drug… not sure. There’s a soft knock at your door.

“Come in.” You call out. Azriel slowly opens the door and walks in. You can tell he just got back and tried to clean up quickly, but there’s still a few smears of blood on him.

“Uh… hi.” You say awkwardly and motion for him to sit. Azriel sits on the end corner of your bed and looks at you with a mixture of anger and fear in his eyes. His shadows are swirling around you, as if to check that you are actually okay. They’ve always taken an interest in you, which you normally appreciate, but right now it just makes you feel guiltier for last night.

“Thank you for finding me last night. I probably wouldn’t be okay right now if you hadn’t.” You whisper, avoiding his gaze. He takes a deep breath, like he is trying to control himself.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He mutters angrily. Azriel stands and starts pacing the room. “You could’ve been fucking killed!” He raises his voice.

“I know. I didn’t-“

“And then you go and say… fuck y/n!” He runs his hands over his face in frustration.

“I’m sorry, Az.” You whisper, fighting the tears that are building. Wait, why the hell is he mad at you? You didn’t drug yourself. “Azriel, it’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You say a bit annoyed. He lets out a cold laugh.

“Yeah, but you planned on going out to find someone to fuck. Wearing that fucking dress and letting that fucking worthless filth touch you.” He spits out angrily as his shadows swirl around your ankles.

“Okay look, I can do what I want and wear what I want. Why is it any of your business if I try to hook up with someone?” Your eyes burn and you fight the tears. “Obviously I wasn’t expecting someone to put something in my drink. I’ll be more careful next time!” You yell louder.

“Next time?” His voice drops to a whisper and he looks at you with an expression you can’t quite decipher.

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you, Azriel. Why do you even care? You’re never around anymore. Always too busy sneaking off with Elain to hang out with your best friend!” Hurt fills your voice. You hadn’t meant to let that last part slip out.

“Why are you bringing her into this?” His voice drops lower and his brow furrows.

“She has a mate, Azriel! What the hell are you doing?” You sigh and put your head in your hands. “I just miss you.”

He stops pacing and stares at you. “I’m right here. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Yes you have! I never see you anymore!” Its true. He never makes plans with you anymore and it has been tearing you apart. It’s strange that he was even at Rita’s in the first place, because he never wanted to go even before he ditched you for Elain. Wait, why was he there? “You were at Rita’s last night when you found me.” It’s not a question.

He nods.

“Why were you there?” He obviously wasn’t expecting you to ask that because panic flashes in his eyes for a brief moment. “I know you weren’t there with Elain because she hates it there. And I didn’t see you inside with the guys.” I try to remember him outside the bar, but it’s all fuzzy.

“I was worried.” He mutters so quiet you barely hear.

“What?”

“I was worried about you y/n!” You look at him surprised. “I saw you in the hall ready to go out in that dress. God, that fucking dress. And the entire night I kept thinking about something bad happening. So I waited outside to make sure you and Mor were safe. And then I saw that fucking piece of shit with his hands on you and I just…” he trails off and takes a deep breath. “If something had happened to you… if I hadn’t been there to stop it…” His expression looks angry again.

You pause and process his words. He almost sounds jealous. But that can’t be it. Because he has no reason to be jealous.

He sighs again and continues with a softer voice. “Do you remember anything after you left?” He asks with a hint of desperation in his voice. You think hard for a moment. You thought Mor got you home and you told her what happened. But it wasn’t Mor. It was Azriel. And then you said not to tell Azriel because… fuck. Your eyes go wide.

Azriel stalks closer and is inches from you. “Do you remember what you said? Was that the drug talking or you?” He whispers low and gets closer, his eyes searching yours for an answer. This cannot be happening. If you thought your friendship was screwed before, this is definitely the final straw.

“Az…” you whisper.

“Tell me.” His voice is demanding.

“I don’t-“ you start, but Azriel turns and runs his hands over his face in frustration. He stays facing away from you, muttering something to himself.

“Azriel, I cant. You already avoid me as it is. I don’t think I can handle losing you as a friend. Losing you completely.” He obviously already knows, but saying it feels too real. Your words cause him to turn back around and get closer to you. Azriel leans over you, caging you against the bed in between his arms and stares at you silently for a moment. His shadows have stilled completely around you two. There’s something desperate in his eyes. He’s so close, closer than he has been in months. Hell, he’s closer than he’s been ever. You look from his eyes to his lips for a split second, mesmerized by the way he barely bites his bottom lip.

“Fuck it.” He mutters. Before you can ask what, he crashes his lips into yours. You freeze for a moment in shock, before melting into his touch. He lets out a low groan as you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. His calloused hands wrap into your hair and tug slightly, earning a small whimper from you. It takes several moments before you come up for air.

“Azriel… I don’t understand.” You ask breathlessly.

“Please tell me what you said last night is true. That you feel the way I feel.” He rests his forehead on yours.

“What about Elain?”

“I don’t care about Elain! I care about you! She knows that I’m in l-“ He pauses and takes a breath. “I was trying to get over you.” He grabs your chin softly and pulls your face to meet his. “It’s always been you, y/n. Please.”

You stare silently in shock for several moments. “Y/n…” Azriel’s voice pulls you from your trance and you realize he’s waiting for you to answer.

Just as you are about to respond, there is a knock on the door. Azriel quickly pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed away from you, as if nothing were happening.

“Come in!” You call out softly, and Feyre opens the door holding a plate of food.

“I should go.” Azriel says quietly and heads towards the door.

“Wait.” You try to stop him, but he keeps walking.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, y/n.” Azriel opens the door and leaves without a second glance. His shadows remain for a moment, before quickly retreating, as if being called to follow. Feyre gives you a questioning look, but you just shake your head and fall back onto the bed, finally letting the tears flow freely.

thank you for reading!! :)

Read Part Two

#acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #acotar fic #bat boys #my writing

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jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet · 9 months

Text

Shattered under your skin I Azriel X Reader

Part one of more(?)

Summary: Your mate keeps making mistakes.

Azriel had thought you to come home late this night. You were supposed to meet up with a friend after work - and you two catching up usually took ages. What he didn't know, was that your friend had gotten an emergency call from her neighboor and had to leave barely an hour into the hang out. You had enjoyed the rest of your dinner alone, happy to have brought a book with you. The walk home had been relaxing and cleared the pleasant haze of wine from your head.

Even if it hadn't, you sure would have sobered up by what you found upon returning home. First you had thought that Azriel had invited someone of the inner circle over. Unusual, as he liked to keep his home free of his rather loud family, but not unheard of. Then the scent of baked goods and your mates frustration registered in your nose and you frowned.

Stepping toward your living room, you identified Elains sobbing. She sounded earnestly upset. You and Elain had gotten along well so far, appreciating each other as support, cooking and baking together. You were just about to enter and try to comfort your friend when Azriel spoke and shattered your heart.

"It was a mistake, Elain. We can't do this to y/n. You're her friend for mothers sake!"

"Why did you kiss me then? Why did you tell me you loved me - And don't tell me it was the alcohol! I've seen you drink more than that!"

"I'm sorry ok? I was-" Azriel interrupted himself and sighed aggravated. "You should leave. Forget what happened, because it won't happen again."

"You can't just pretent nothing happend! If- If we talk to y/n-"

"She can never know what happend, you hear me Elain?" by the sound of it, your mate had stood up from a chair so quick it had toppled over. "Swear to me, you won't tell her!"

"Why? We have feeling for each other Azriel. You can't deny it for the rest of your life. It wouldn't be fair to her not to tell her." Elain sounded wounded, but there was a persuasive edge to her voice.

"She is my mate. I can't throw that away." Azriels quiet voice twisted the knife in your heart.

"If she is your mate, she will understand. She will want you, us, to be happy."

You finally muster up the courage to fully step into the living room. Elain stood close to Azriel, a hand on his cheek, thumb soothing away his tears. He was facing you, although his eyes were clenched shut as if he were trying to protect himself from temptation. A hopeless endeavor as Elain pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. He whimpered. He actually whimpered and the conflicted emotion radiating from the bond made you sick. There was infinite guilt, but it was quickly overpowered by a rush of affection and then arousal as Elain placed a more passionate kiss to his lips.

You finally snapped out of your disbelieve. Betrayal slamming into you, you heard Azriel gasp. One of his hands flew to his chest as his eyes tore open in response to your hurt emanating from the bond. His gaze found you immediatly and he stepped back from Elain as if burned.

Turning on your heel, you made your escape. All you had to do was get out of the house and then a few steps to be able to winnow away. But before you can even reach the frontdoor, he darts in front of you, frantically grabbing your shoulders and searching your gaze.

"Wait! Wait, let me explain. Elain was just leaving- We- I-"

"Go back to the woman you love." Azriel blinked at the tone of your voice. Dull and void of the emotions he could feel echoing in his heart. He felt you like splintering glass under his skin. And he did that to you, the one person he was supposed to never hurt. To keep save. He was supposed to kill the people that made you feel like this. And yet he couldn't let you go. He had always been selfish. Trying to reign in his desperation he swallowed harshly.

"I don't love her, I love you! It was a mistake, I promise you y/n. It won't happen again I swear!" As he said it and you wished it to be true, you felt the skin of your wrist split and re-stich. Crying out in surprise and pain you stumble back, staring at the mark of a bargain struck. Finally your tears spilled over. You had been mentally resigned to forever feel your mates affection for another, had been in the precess of walking out of his life. And now? Now he had accidentally sworn himself to stay away from Elain in the futile hope of making you stay.

He seemed to have realized the same, sinking to his knees wide eyed. "No no, no no no no no- I didn't mean-" He's looking back and forth between you and Elain, pleading with both of you. Your friend had started sobbing again, trying to touch your arm and apologizing. You head swam. The tips of your fingers tingled and you were distantly aware of hyperventilating. Finally pulling out of your stupor you push past Azriel, ignoring him begging for you to "stay" and "not leave him alone". The chilly night air barely encompassed you before you winnowed away.

You aren't sure where you landed, black spots dancing in your vision as the blood doesn't flow to your brain properly. You stuble forward, crashing into a tree and feebly sliding down. Dry leaves crunch under your knees as they hit the ground.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar

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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year

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Congratulations on 500 darling!!!!!!!! Can I please request 30 with azriel? Thank youuuuuuu 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Confessions at Starfall

Azriel x Reader one shot

Summary: It's the night of Starfall, and you're hopelessly in love with the Shadowsinger. When Azriel keeps flirting with Elain, you're pushed to your final limits.

HELLO AND WELCOME TO DAY 1 OF 5 FOR 500!

Thank you @cityofidek for requesting 30 - Unrequited love/pushing loved one away.

Warnings: None.

Words: 3,048

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It was the night of Starfall, and you were utterly miserable.

Sitting at the dining table with your family, the rest of the inner circle exchanged jokes and light-hearted conversations as plates of steaming roasts, vegetables and pies were passed around. While it was usually your favourite holiday – the night ahead promising dancing and celebration, you were feeling far from festive.

It had everything to do with the male you loved, who sat across from you now, dotting over Elain Archeron. His eyes rarely left her, and you would know, because yours rarely left him. You noted the way he sat, his body tilted slightly in her direction, his wings folded back to make provide her more space to move. To the untrained eye, it wouldn't look like much – but for Azriel this spoke volumes.

That was the kind of detail you had learned to read over the past year. It had been twelve excruciating months since you had realised your own feelings for the Shadowsinger. Gone was the comfortable friendship you two shared – instead it was quickly replaced with blushing, timidness and uncontrollable awkwardness, all thanks to you. And while you once held out hope that Azriel might notice, or even return your feelings, overtime your friendship had drifted – pushing him further into the arms of the middle Archeron sister.

Elain made you seethe with jealousy. It wasn’t her fault, she was nice really, all be it a bit simple. But she had a way about her, like a doe-eyed fawn their first steps. It made you uncontrollably angry the way people would line up to help her, especially the males. Not to mention her undeniable beauty. You knew she and Azriel made a very handsome couple.

So you sat here tonight, marking every bit of attention the Spymaster gave Elain, longing for him to look at you the way he did her. Jealousy didn't even begin to cover it.

“Y/N?”

You blinked, not realising Azriel was speaking to you even though you had stared off straight in his direction. You coughed, straightening in you seat. “Sorry, pardon?” Your heart beat at the thought he might have started a conversation with you.

“Can you pass the potatoes?”

Your heart dropped, and you tried to hide the disappointment on your face. Of course he wasn't interested in talking to you, he hadn't in weeks. Without replying, you passed over the dish, reaching straight for the white potatoes instead of the orange kind. Azriel didn't like how sweet they were, and you knew that. It was the kind of detail you remembered about someone when you’re hopelessly in love.

“Ooh, can I please have the sweet potatoes?” Elain chirped. “They’re my favourite.” Of course the sweetest female in all of Prythian liked yams the most. You had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You passed the dish over silently, and watched Azriel load up his plate with those too. It took everything you had to stop the scowl that twitched at your eyes.

You pushed your fork and knife to the centre of your plate, suddenly having lost your appetite.

————

The luminescent glow of the stars shooting above had been going for over an hour, and the party was in full swing. You breathed in, letting the magnificent sight lighten your heart the way they did the night sky.

Gathered on a large marble terrace of Rhys and Feyre’s river home, almost a hundred guests had come in fine gowns and suits to celebrate the event.

Wearing a dress of midnight blue that sparkled with night, you laughed lightheartedly as Cassian and Nesta joked with you, champagne in hand. The musicians at the base of the terrace reclaimed their seats, raising their instruments and beginning a new set of elegant melody.

“I hope you don’t mind Y/N, but I must show off my mates dancing,” he winked at you before offering his hand to Nesta. She smiled, placing a delicate hand atop of his, nodding to you before being lead to the dance floor.

Couples now twirled and stepped in unison, the sight almost as magical as the sky above. You felt a large presence slide beside you, and your heart fluttered as shadows caught the corner of your eye.

“Are you enjoying your night?” Azriel had finally come to spend some time with you.

“Of course,” you lied, smiling softly as you gulped the rest of your champaign, earning a slight raise of Azriel’s brow. “And yourself?”

Azriel nodded. “It’s as beautiful as always.”

“Yes, it is.” You couldn't help but stare straight into his hazel eyes, your heart lurching as your words hung with double meaning. Ask me to dance, you begged in your head. We dance every year on Starfall, c’mon, just ask me. If Azriel was paying any attention, he would have read your pleading gaze. But he wasn’t, of course, because his eyes fell beyond you, at the pretty Archeron who wore a gown of delicate blush.

You looked down, suddenly overwhelmed with insecurity as you smoothed the ripples in your dress. Of course he didn't like you – you looked like a witch of death compared to the femininity that blossomed from Elain.

“You look quite beautiful tonight.”

Your heart leaped. Your anger from earlier quickly vanished as you breathed in to thank Azriel, already blushing. But as you looked up, your heart immediately sank as you realised Azriel wasn't complimenting you at all, but rather Elain, who had made her way over.

It felt much like being punched in the gut.

Your mouth was dry as you silently watched Azriel offer her an arm, her petite hand slipping through as he guided her to the dance floor.

That felt much like being kicked in the gut while you were down.

You couldn't help the steady flow of tears that now stained your cheeks, or the broken crumple that formed on your face. Unable to withstand any more blows, you fled the party.

————

Slumped against the frame of a large window, your body shook with cries so hard they fell silent. You didn't care if it was the most special night of the year, you had never felt more abandoned, underserving and unloved.

You were crying too hard to hear the footsteps that trudged up to the lookout room you were hiding in, and you didn't hear the faint knock at the door. It wasn't until Cassian placed a gentle hand on your shoulder that you noticed his presence, his face soft with concern as he crouched next to you.

You blinked back at him, your vision completely blurred by your tears. You were broken and there was no hiding it.

“I love him, Cas,” you sobbed, your voice break halfway through as a cry shook through your body again.

“Oh, Y/N,” Cassian said softly, his voice full of understanding as he immediately embraced you. You flung yourself to him, wrapping your arms around his solid waist as he rocked and stroked your hair. You weren't surprised that Cassian knew, anyone could have noticed months of hopeless pining and one-sided puppy love.

You continued to cry, your voice muffle by the embrace. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing Y/N! There’s not a thing wrong with you.”

“Then why doesn't he love me?”

“Because he’s a damn fool.”

You sniffed against his chest, trying to regain yourself. “But he loves her.”

Cassian sighed, the strokes on your hair pausing for just a moment. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Of course he does. She’s perfect.” Jealousy was not a good colour on you, but you were unsuccessful at hiding the bite in your words.

Cassian drew back, levelling his eyes to yours. “I know it hurts right now doll, but I promise, any male that doesn't see you for the beautiful, intelligent and fiery bombshell you are, is an outright imbecile. Even if it is my own brother.”

You chuckled at that, shaking your head as you gently wiped the makeup your were sure had stained under your eyes. “Thank you Cass,” you whispered, reaching for his hands tightly. He stood now, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Will you come back to the party with me?”

You forced a fake smile, but shook your head. “I happiest up here. Thank you though Cass, I mean it.”

Cassian nodded, throwing a tight smile of sympathy before ducking out of the room.

You paced to the other side of the viewing room to the window facing the terrace below where celebrations continued. Dresses of all colours fanned against the marble of the terrace, the music flowing up to the height of the room. And the stars, Gods they were beautiful.

You saw Cassian rejoin Nesta, his arms snaking around her waist as they admired the view. Next to them were your High Lord and Lady, and beside them, a dress of pale blush. Your heart stung with envy at the site of Elain, and you narrowed your eyes as you scanned the crowd for Azriel.

“Y/N?”

You jumped, whirling on the spot to find Azriel sheepishly standing in the doorway.

You cleared your throat, quickly wiping under your eyes again. He had hurt you, broken you without even knowing it. You straightened your spine – the least you could do was have your pride.

“Are you ok? Cassian said you left the party.”

You nodded tightly, not trusting yourself to speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The words flew out of your mouth too quickly.

Azriel frowned, stepping through the door towards you. You stiffened, drawing one step back. “Go back to the party Azriel,” you said tightly.

“Have you been crying?”

You scowled. How dare he note that detail when he was the one who caused it. “Don’t pretend to care,” you spat. Gone was the ache in your heart from moments ago. Seeing Azriel here now, it was quickly replaced with fiery hurt.

“What?” Azriels brow was now contort with confusion as he reached for you. You stepped back again, your arms folding over your chest.

“Why are you angry with me?”

“How can you ask that?”

“Is it because we’ve been distant lately?” So he did have some clue after all. You didn't answer, instead breaking from the intensity of his stare, your eyes focusing outside as glowing spirits that shot past the other side of the window.

“Listen, I know I haven't been around much, or maybe it’s that we haven't spent time together lately. But things have been difficult between us for a while now Y/N. I can't help but feel you’re pushing me away.”

A scoff escaped you before you could stop it. “I’m pushing you away?!”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, his hands outstretched. “For months now. You don't open up to me like you used to, every time I look at you, you look away, and you never suggest spending anytime together.”

You blinked at him, biting your lip as you tried to process what he had said. You hadn’t realised that in an attempt to burry your feelings for Azriel, you had actually pushed him away.

“Tell me, what have I done?” Azriel’s voice was pleading as he stepped closer.

“You haven't done anything,” your voice was barely a whisper, and you were unable to meet his eyes. You had stepped away so he could explore his feelings for Elain, that was your truth. But when was the last time he made an effort for you? “But you can't pretend like you’ve been trying either, Azriel.”

He sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re right, I’m sorry ok? I’ll make more of an effort from here on.”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes again as you blinked quickly, casting your gaze sideways yet again. You couldn't tell him – it would ruin everything.

For once, Azriel caught on to how upset you were. “You’re still angry with me?”

“Gods, Az! I wish I was angry!”

The male blinked at you before frustration overtook. “Well perhaps you could stop talking in riddles, and actually tell me what’s wrong!” he gritted.

You let out a quick breath, shaking your hands as you blinked upwards, trying your best to stop the tears that welled. “I can’t,” you whispered. It would kill you to say it, and it would kill everything you two had.

Azriel’s gaze softened when he saw how tortured you were. Uncrossing his arms, he walked over, cupping the side of your face. “You can tell me anything, Y/N. Just tell me, what’s going on?”

His hazel eyes scanned your face, begging you to open up. But there was so much at stake here, and even if you confessed, you knew his heart lay with Elain.

You shook your head, moving out of his hold. “If you can’t see it for yourself Azriel, I don't know what to tell you.”

Azriel frowned. “You’re speaking in riddles again.”

You threw your hands up in defeat. “Perhaps I am,” you sighed, suddenly drained of any energy you had left. “Listen, I’m exhausted. Please Az, just enjoy the rest of your night, ok?”

“I’ll walk you to your room.”

“No,” you said too quickly. Guilt struck you at the twinge of hurt on Azriel’s face. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Your voice was tight, and you quickly turned your heel, leaving Azriel still and silent as he watched you leave.

These feelings – these stupid, foolish, unrequited feelings. They hurt you and everyone involved, and you hated yourself for it. It was obvious Azriel didn’t return your affection, so why did you have to drag him down and cause a scene? You needed to do better, needed to push your love for him down, burry it in the depths of your heart so it would no longer get in his way.

————

You were in your room for barely an hour before there was a forceful knock on your door. You jumped, pulling down the length of your silk night slip as you spoke out loud. “Who is it?”

You door flew open then, Azriel’s large frame filling the entrance as he stepped inside, his expression wild, with another emotion you couldn't quite place. His wings were outstretched, and you could tell he had winnowed here hurriedly as his chest heaved with quick breaths.

Shocked, your eyes darted over him in panic. “Azriel, what –?”

Azriel stalked towards you, closing the distance as he towered over you.

“You love me?”

You gawked, your eyes moving back and forth as you tried to connect the dots. “Who–?”

“You love me?”

Cassian. You gritted your teeth and your fists clenched. How could he share something so private?

“No! I mean, yes, I mean, I have feelings for–”

“You, love, me…” he repeated, slower this time. It was no longer a question.

Your body burned in shame – you needed air. Pushing the double doors to your private balcony open, you grasped the railing as you tried to breath deep. Azriel was right on your tail.

“Az, I’m sorry. I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re— they’re only temporary, I swear. I—I’ll get over you–”

Azriel bought a single scarred finger to your lips, hushing you instantly. You swallowed, panic in your eyes as they darted between his hazel ones, trying to read his reaction. As per usual, Azriel’s face was unreadable, the only movement was the gold that swirled within them.

“How long have you loved me?” he asked, his voice cold as ice. You felt as if you were tied to a chair, under his interrogation.

“Twelve months,” you whispered against his finger, your cheeks stinging in shame.

Azriel raised his brows. “So for a whole year, you have loved me, without so much as a thought to share that information?”

Your frowned in confusion. “I had no plans on telling you, Azriel. I didn't want to get in your way. You and Elain–”

“What of Elain and I?”

You levelled a look at him now. “C’mon Az, its clear you have affections for her.”

“You have no idea how I feel.” There was a bite to his words, something you weren't used to from the Shadowsinger. “I am a friend to Elain, because her transition as fae has been difficult. I enjoy her company, that’s true. But I am there to support her as my High Lady’s sister, and a member of our family. If I am someone she can trust, someone she can open up to, I will be there to support her.”

You sighed. “I understand that Az, but–”

The finger returned to your lips, cutting you off. “That does not mean –” Azriel drawled, his voice low, almost dangerous. “– that I have affections for her.” He was dancing with your emotions, using them against you to teach you a lesson.

You blinked back at him, your heart fluttering with realisation before denial quickly took over. “You love her,” you whispered, more to yourself, refusing to believe the dynamics you had built in your head were an embellishment of your own idiocy.

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“I do not.” Azriel’s voice was a growl now.

He moved in closer, and your heart began to thunder. The finger against your lip fell to cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. Azriel’s eyes swirled with dominance, his expression almost predatory as shadows danced between you. He leaned in close, his fresh scent filling your nose as his lips were now mere inches from your own.

“I have affections for someone else,” he said huskily. “One might even say I love her, for many years now.”

It took all that you had not to gawk. Instead, you kept your eyes on his. “Don’t mock,” you replied, your voice a half gasp as you tried to control your breathing.

Azriel’s mouth pulled into a smirk. “I’m not mocking.”

You flicked your gaze to his lips, then back up to his eyes, your expression bewildered and completely uncool.

“Azriel–” was all you got out before he closed his lips over yours, his arms snaking around your waist as he dipped you back, kissing you as the stars continued to fall around you.

--------

AN: I just want to say another HUGE thank you to anyone who's been following along with my fics, you mean the world to me <3 I hope you liked this story, I would love to hear any feedback you have. Please take care, and comment if you'd like to join any of my tag lists ✨:)

Tag list:@kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies

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ellievickstar · 1 year

Text

His Second Choice?

A/N: So my first ever fic was Azriel angst…thus, this. I have curated what I consider to be the worst thing of all time, being someone’s second choice, especially if you are their soulmate.

Summary: When then mating bond finally snaps into place, what are you meant to do when you realise your mate has another in his heart, will you break it off to save yourself, or will your mate be able to save this heartbreak?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Witch!Reader, Azriel x Elain, Nessian, Feysand.

Warnings: Angst. Tears. Mentions of witchcraft. Elain Slander. Being someone’s second option. (If you are in a similar situation, BREAK IT OFF. He or she is not worth it), Azriel being incredibly stupid. Elain slander. Thanks to @azrielhours for helping me come up with the idea! I also added my own take of the Hanahaki Disease with Azzy. Hope you enjoy, love you babes <3

My Masterlists & Rules

~*~*~*~*~

You walked down the hall, and noticed that there was a slight bounce in your step, smiling as you recalled the reason why. Today was finally the day, after weeks of going on countless missions for Rhys, Azriel could finally have dinner with you as usual, and just in time to. Today you were celebrating finally being able to finish the last book of your series, quite popular now, no doubt thanks to Feyre's connections to a famous publisher, which allowed the series to get the exposure it needed. (A/N: Is this how publishing books work? Someone please educate me)

Thanks to the help of Mor and Nesta's fashionable taste in dresses, they had picked out a wonderful dress. It was a dark navy blue, azriel's favourite colour, which faded into white with golden accents. The sleeves were off the shoulder, lined with flowers sewn and embroidered into the top. You were in absolute awe when you saw it and had tried it on immediately, thankfully it fit you well, and you wished the two females well before heading to bottom of the stairs to the House of Wind, where Azriel agreed to pick you up.

You wondered what he'd think as you fidgeted with the layers of your dress, occasionally summoning spells to pass time. During the first hour, you just played with your magic, bored. During the second hour, you begun to worry that he might have been injured during the mission. During the third, you were ready to summon Rhys

That's when Cassian and Nesta came across you and asked you why you weren't with Azriel and you made a painful realisation.

You had stood there, waiting like a fool. Thinking that maybe, your mate would still care enough to at least show up if he was tired from his mission. Stood there, until Nesta and Cassian came across you, Nesta demanding to know where Azriel was, Cassian puzzled as he claimed Azriel had come home hours before. And that's when you knew he had forgotten. And it hurt.

You shouldn't have been upset. After all, he could have been so tired and just landed in bed immediately, he could have been flooded with paperwork for the mission. Cassian offered to bring you to the House of Wind but y ou waved him off, telling him to enjoy the rest of his night with Nesta and not to worry about you.

You couldn't winnow. But you could do something else. After ensuring that no one could see you, you waved a hand in the air. Drawing precise shapes from memory. A light glowed in your hand, slowly swallowing your arm, then the rest of you. And when you closed your eyes because of how bright it was you felt the atmosphere shift. And with your fingers crossed you opened one eye, then the other, to see yourself standing in the living room of the House of Wind.

Witchcraft.

You had grown up as a witch, travelling across Prythian with your family and friends. That was before Amarantha's rule, before...everything. Before you witnessed you family slaughtered. Before you mustered up so much power you shouldn't even be alive. Before your friends needed to go into hiding. Before everyone thought witches were evil. And it wasn't just you. Bryaxis, was something of an old friend. You were no stranger to the weaver, the bone carver or the suriel. They had all been...friends. And such association with had had cause your kind to be deemed evil.

So you hid your power, you hid your identity. The only people you ever told was the inner circle, save Feyre's two sisters. You weren't comfortable with sharing it with new people, and everyone understood. You had told Nesta vague details, but tears had begun to form in your eyes and she embraced you, telling you that it was alright if you didn't wish to speak of it yet.

The memory made you smile. But once you remembered the situation at hand, it turned into a frown. Reaching out to that mating bond, you grasped it, but there was nothing on the pother side. Though Azriel was your lover, he hadn't experienced the bond for himself yet. You would wait for it to click for him, you didn't want to rush him.

Laughter caught your attention, and the distinct sound of your mate made you freeze as you faced the balcony. There they were. It was clear as day as your mate entered the House of Wind with Elain. Elain. You'd known that they had grown closer, but to leave you with no explanation and spend time with someone else. You blanched.

Azriel's eyes found yours and as they trailed down to your dress, the colour drained from his face. He truly had forgotten. Not for any rhyme or reason but because he was busy with someone else. Your vision began to blur, but you swallowed as you asked him one thing.

"Why?" It was so soft, you couldn't recognise your own voice. But Azriel flinched. You searched for an answer in his eyes but found none as he looked away. You begged him silently for a good reason, a good answer, anything but-

"I guess I just forgot, and she needed me for something important," It was as if he had slapped you. Turning away, tears streamed down your face, and with a wave of your hand a blinding light flashed and you were gone. Azriel left on his knees as he had tried to grab you, to convince you to stay, to let him make up for what he had forgotten, but never once thought about what he had just said, what he had just implied.

~*~*~*~*~

"He didn't!" Mor gasped. You nodded sadly and Nesta huffed as she sat back in her chair. Feyre was quiet as she stirred her tea. You couldn't imagine how they both felt. On one hand, Elain was their sister, but to even attempt on a man who already had a lover was beyond both of them. Feyre shook her head, in disbelief and disappointment. She exchanged looks with Nesta and cleared her throat.

"Perhaps, we sheltered Elain all her life, but it is no excuse for what she is doing, whether she realises it or not. I will speak to her about the issue at hand, but don't worry, I won't tell her about the bond," You smiled gratefully at the high lady and she excused herself to go to the bathroom. You couldn't help but be envious of the relationship she had. Though you would never want to date the High Lord, you wished that Azriel would care for you as much as Rhys did Feyre.

Sighing, you set your cup down, ready to leave for a meeting with Bryaxus - who was more than overjoyed when you begun to regularly visit him - and then you felt it, it was like your heart was being ripped out of you as you gasped, heaving, coughing. Mor sat up, alarmed, and Nesta moved to hold your back, soothing you. You hacked and watched in horror as blood and what looked like the petals of a flower came spewing out of your mouth.

You knew this disease.

You knew what it would do.

You knew what needed to be done.

"Get Madja," You coughed out to Mor, "Now! I need her now!" Raising your voice, you began to cough up more petals and more blood. Mor instantly winnowed out and was back within a few minutes, Madja hot on her heels as she rushed towards you. Your mind spun as you processed everything. Not this, anything but this, please.

After your coughing fit that scared the wits out of Mor and Nesta, you explained the disease to them. Madja nodded at your every word as she inspected the kind of flowers that you had coughed up.

Red Tulips. Soulmates.

Marigolds. Hurt.

Daffodils. Unrequited Love.

You cursed under your breath. Feyre had just returned and was quickly filled in on the situation. She paled as she took in the flowers, their meanings. Hours of listening to what Elain said flowers represented and now Feyre wish she had forgotten all of it. You started heaving again and Madja made you lean forward as you coughed up more petals into a paper bag.

Unbridled pain roared through the veins of your body as it began to come in paves. Whimpering, you brought your knees to your chest, but the coughing didn't stop. You were in near tears. How could you let this happen? Years of hearing about this disease and you were now victim to it. You couldn't help that your mate was in love with another, but why was this so much worse than the stories? You had seen the events of the disease transpire and it was no where near as bad-

"It's because you and Azriel are mates. In other cases, this only happens between two lovers...never mates. Mates usually have an instant connection, so it's very rare for one half to love another person entirely," Feyre explained. Nesta muttered something about how Tamlin should have gotten this cursed disease, but Feyre then explained that there was a difference between 'love' and 'obsession'. This couldn't be happening. You groaned into your palms, maybe you should go to the bathroom, lest the next thing you know you can't move.

Standing up, you took one step, then another, your vision bagan to tunnel, and you turned back to the sofa. You had to at least get back to a lying down position, but before you could, darkness hugged you like a warm, welcoming blanket.

~*~*~*~*~

Mor yelped as she rushed to keep Y/N from falling. Feyre immediately reaching out to Rhys to get everyone to go to the House of Wind immediately. It was an emergency. Rhys was there with Lucien in a heartbeat. For a second, Mor wondered where Azriel was, when booming beats of wings could be heard. Cassian rushing in, letting out a sigh of relief as he spied that Nesta was safe, Azriel with Elain in his arms entering soon after as he set her down.

Feyre, Mor and Nesta all scowled at the Shadow singer, assuming that it was because of Y/N he nodded at them apologetically. Which in turn made them all exchange enraged looks, Feyre making a mental note to tell Rhys to cut Azriel's hefty salary by at least half. Still a sizeable portion, but maybe he's start thinking about the consequences to his actions.

"We're here because of Y/N," Mor started and Elain scoffed. Feyre and Nesta were taken aback by the rude behaviour. Having enough of so many problems, Nesta spoke up. "Is there a problem, Elain?" Elain rolled her eyes and picked at her nails.

"Y/N is just jealous that Azriel decided that he didn't want to be with her anymore. Besides, there are so many other males for her, why those she have to target Azriel?" Nesta gritted her teeth, ready to yell at her ignorant sister, but decided against it as Mor began to speak.

"Y/N has contracted something called Hanahaki Disease, a disease cause my unrequited love towards another," This made Elain snort, but Mor continued, ignoring her, "Usually there would be time to try several cures, but in this case, it's..." More trailed off, unable to find the words, unable to utter the thing that would confirm her own fears. Feyre continued for her.

"She's dying. Fast. Madja says we have a day at best, hours at worse," The words were almost unheard, Cassian stared at Nesta, the devastation on her face, he glanced to Azriel, the bastard's face remained impassive, but as he reached to his mind, absolute chaos. Pain. Suffering.

Azriel felt paralysed when he heard the words. He might never be able to make up for the mistake he made. The hurt he caused his lover. But, something made him stop.

"You said usually, there would be more time. What's the difference in this case?" The question made Feyre pause. She glanced at her sister and friend but they both looked unsure. Should they tell him? They had sworn not to tell anyone but in a situation like this...

"You are her mate," Nesta softly muttered. So soft, that if it wasn't for everyone's Fae hearing, they would have passed it off as the wind. Elain gasped ion anger, and Azriel fell to his knees. No. It can't be. He mustn't have heard it right. His mate? But as he reached into his soul, he grasped the at the foreign golden thread that was foreign to him all this time, and tugged it hard. Images flooded his mind and he begun to weep.

The shadow singer, hardened by years of battle, war, and torture, begun to weep as he saw an invisible golden thread reach out, and go through the door where his mate probably was. And for the first time in centuries, he understood her. He saw her pain, her memories, her thoughts.

Horrified, he witnessed himself saying those words to her. Telling her that Elain was more important, telling her that another female was more important than his mate. He wanted to know when she found out about the bond, wanted to demand why she never told him, but now wasn't the time. He needed to get to her.

Faster then anyone could stop him, he got to his feet and ran. Tearing through the door and stopped as he saw her. She was so pale, sweat beaded down her forehead as her breaths were laboured. She wasn't even conscious. Shadows sang as they danced around her figure. Not right. Dying. Sick. Disease.

He felt himself being pulled back by Cassian, asking him to calm down, asking him to listen, but he couldn't. He was panicked. He couldn't leave her, not again, he needed her. He couldn't lose her after just finding out. It took both Rhys and Cassian to haul Azriel away, he screamed after his mate, screamed as he prayed, he didn't know to who, but if there was any slight chance that they'd let her wake up, if there was at least one good thing he'd done in all his existence that allowed him this one good thing, he'd bargain with the Gods for a chance to live the rest of his life with his mate. Would bargain away his own life.

He didn't know how long it was until Madja came out with a solemn look. He didn't know how long it was he stood there when she uttered those defining words. "She might not make it," Before she dragged him to the side.

"What is your relationship with Y/N?" She demanded. Azriel's head spun as he tried to recall what happened. "I...it's complicated," Madja paused at seeing the shadow singer falter after 500 years of walking through life without a care in the world. However, the answer he was giving was not going to help her save Y/N.

"Define it shadow singer! Give me details! Let me know what was happening that she became so ill!" She snapped. Azriel flinched. He knew she had every right to be annoyed at him. He was the cause of the illness and he couldn't even think straight, couldn’t even try to save her.

“I hurt her. I hurt her and I shouldn’t have, I stood her up, and then told her another female was more important. I grew distant. And now she’s suffering. Because of me,” He swallowed and Madja nodded. He ran his hand through his hair. Panic danced in his eyes and Madja sighed. This was complicated, never in all her year did she need to treat such a complicated case, even when Illyrians were on the brink of losing their wings. Even when she had to treat battle wounds that would leave the faint hearted in shambles.

She shook her head, turning to leave, voicing only one instruction as she walked out, “Break off whatever relationship you have with that Archeron Sister, and pray that you’re mate will wake,” He nodded and Madja left the shadow singer feeling empty, feeling as if he had nothing left in the world.

~*~*~*~*~

His foot steps felt heavy as he walked to the living room of the House of Wind. He couldn't believe this. All his life, he'd dreamed of meeting his mate. He'd dreamed of living out his life together with her, and now he might not even get to right the wrongs he had made. He might not even get to tell her that he was sorry for hurting her.

"So? What do we need to do?" Mor demanded as he came into view of the rest. He sighed as looked down at his scarred palms, ones who had done harm to thousands and he hadn't regretted it, not once. Until now. His own mate. Maybe karma really did exist. Maybe he shouldn't have been so cruel to so many people.

"I...I have to break up with Elain or she dies tonight," He said shakily. Everyone stared at him. Elain rolled her eyes once more. “What a drama queen. She’s such an attention seeker, right guys?” She looked around but no one seemed to agree. Her eyes seemed to flicker between surprise and resentment. “You guys are stupid, she’s not dying she’s just faking it,” She tried to say but Cassian brought a hand up, stopping her.

“You, dumb brat. You’re sisters have shielded you all their lives and the one time you have an opportunity that you aren’t just an empty headed child, you blow it!” Nesta tried to calm him down but everyone could tell that a part of her agreed with what her mate was saying. Rhysand then chimed in, “A member of my court, one of my closest friends, is dying. And you have the audacity, the gall, to say that she is attention seeking? I don’t care that you are my mate’s sister, but that disrespect will not be tolerated in my court, even so, my mate would agree with me. You have been born and raised sheltered and shielded from a broken world and instead of being thankful, instead of feeling an ounce of appreciation towards the female who saved your damn life, you ruined hers.” Feyre nodded, and as Elain looked around, she realised that no one was siding with her, not even Lucien.

She huffed, enraged by the outcome of this, before strutting out of the house of Wind. Nesta felt disheartened, she had been so protective of Elain that she had now turned into this uncaring monster, it made her feel like she had failed. Her emotions were echoed down the bond and Cassian turned towards her and hugged her, pressing her against him gently. The scene made Azriel feel alone, and so guilty. He could have had that, if he had just opened his damn eyes, if he hadn’t hurt her the way he did.

But now, he didn’t even know if his mate was going to make the end of the day. And he prayed to whatever god there was out there, that he’d get one more shot to make things right.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Should I make part 2???? Idk T^T Hope you enjoyed <3

PART 2 IS OUT

@aroseinvelaris

If you wanna be tagged: Just ask and remember to specify if you wanna be tagged in just part 2 of this fic, all Azriel fics, any specific character fics/series, or just all my fics in certain fandoms. <3

#Azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x elain #azriel acomaf #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #azriel #angst #Cassian acotar #acotar character x reader #Acotar #rhysand acotar #lucien acotar #acotar fanart #azriel shadow singer x reader angst #Azriel x reader angst

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redheadspark · 2 months

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Hiiii can I request an az x reader or cassian whichever u want, they have a baby like 5 months old baby and they live in a cabin in the mountains by the lake and one day as yn and the bby are outside in nature a threat appears and there is a bit angst but ends up happy??? Thank u so much❤️

A/N - I LOVE this for my Alec series! Sorry, it took some time to write, but I hope you like it :D. This is part of the Ocean Eyes Series

Split

Summary - Cassian stops a potential threat against Alec.

Warnings - Angst with a slight mixture of fluff

"I'll be right inside if something happens or if he needs anything or wants—"

"You go, babe. Alec and I are fine. Right, kid?"

Alec giggled as Cassian tickled his side, Nesta saw how comfortable Cassian was with Alec as they were perched on a large blanket right next to the lake. With a kiss on Alec's head and a light kiss on her mate's lips, Nesta walked back to the cabin to get to work, leaving Cassian and Alec out by the lake to enjoy the sunshine.

Although you were more than capable of having your son with you, you know Cassian wanted to give you and Azriel some time alone and a mini break. Not that Alec was a time-consuming toddler, he was rather easy. Rhysand has even joked with you and Azriel that Alec was easier to handle than Nyx was as a toddler, but he meant well.

It was a warm day, quite warmer than usual in Velaris since the warm winds were now in Night Court. Tension between Night and Autumn Court was only a pinch better. Ever since Elaine and Lucien got married in a beautiful wedding in Night Court and held its reception in Autumn Court, both Rhysand and Beron were trying to make amends and head in the right direction. However, the main snag in that relationship was Eris, still in hot water since the comment about Azriel and his family. His duties with his father and as the Prince of Autumn Court diminished as punishment, commanded to be in stone silence during Elaine and Lucien's Mating Ceremony reception.

You and Alec stayed in Night Court during the reception that was in Autumn Court, a compromise you and Azriel made together since Elaine and Lucien wished for your family to be at the Mating Ceremony. Tension was still high for the Spymaster, and his son would not be caught in the crossfire when it came to Eris and his threats. It was a good enough plan, both yourself and Azriel didn't wish to make waves or cause chaos showing up in another Court with Alec exposed to others. When Azriel showed up to the Reception with Cassian and Nesta, Eris seemed rather peeved at the absence of yourself and your son.

Much to his dismay, but much to the amusement and satisfaction of Azriel.

Since then, you and Azriel made your lives normal for Alec. He was talking wildly now, though it was a few words here and there but willing to learn more. Cassian has offered to babysit him more and more since there was less of a need for him at the Illyrian camps. His soldiers were getting along quite well and thriving without him, his captains were exceptional leaders and the arguments were now at a minimum. It left Cassian to have more time with his family, particularly with his nephews Nyx and Alec. Both boys loved and adored being with their Uncle Cassian, the fun and lively Uncle who would play with them for hours on end and never get tired. It paired well with Aunt Nesta, who would read them bedtime stories and give them lots of snuggles when they were sad.

Today was Cassian and Nesta's day to watch Alec. Rhysand working at the River House with Azriel on spy information he received from Spring Court. Feyre, with Nyx in tow, asked for your assistance at the Community Center back in Velaris since you loved working alongside the locals and the needy. With Elaine and Lucien enjoying their newlywed life in their little cottage along the Night Court countryside, Cassian and Nesta were on babysitting duty.

Neither Nesta nor Cassian said anything, but they looked forward to watching Alec, as they did with Nyx. To them, it was almost a practice for them when they wished to expand their family. Nesta was not ready for a babe just yet, but she told Cassian she was open to the possibility of the future, which made Cassian's heart soar. He would wait years, long years, however long it took for her to be ready for motherhood. Even if maybe down the road she didn't want that life anymore, Cassian didn't mind at all. Her happiness, for all she endured, was his priority now.

"Alright, you wanna watch your uncle organize his blades?" Cassian asked playfully, Alec grasping the stuffed owl that his Aunt Nesta gave him and watching Cassian with wide eyes while Cassian rolled out his blades carefully on the blanket, "Don't worry, kid. You'll hold one of these in no time, but maybe not for a hundred years or two if I know your dad,"

"Dada!" Alec shrieked at the mention of his father, and Cassian laughed.

"Never thought I would live to see the day that the Shadowsinger fathered a child…no offense," He said to Alec, who was snuggling with his owl and watching a bumble bee hover by on a massive flower, "You know I love your dad like a brother…well, he is my brother. But he's still a mystery, even to your Uncle Cassian,"

He went to work on his blade, getting out each one to inspect them and see which one needed maintenance, He could hear Netsa working inside the Cabin, looking over some ancient books that Rhysand gave her to other information to use for their security in Night Court. Nesta and Rhysand's relationship was better than ever, both having respect for one another and love for one another as in-laws. Rhysand enlists Nesta to help in research since she traded most of her powers to the Cauldron to save Feyre and Nyx from death. Nesta admired Rhysand for being a great mate and father, no longer having that grudge or chip on her shoulder.

Cassian could see and feel high hopes for his mate.

Minutes went by as Cassian was going over every weapon, seeing his nephew out of the corner of his eyes walking around on his wobbly legs and exploring the shore of the lake. His wings were growing inch by inch, still against his backside while his raven black hair was a bit longer with thick waves and half in his face to cover his bright blue eyes. Things felt calm in the area, almost a bit too calm. Although there was magic instilled around the cabin and the area, Cassian knew better than to not have his guard up. No matter if there hasn't been a breach of security or a threat against Night Court, there could still be a looming threat that can start small and then explode.

He heard Alec walking along the grass, pausing in his weaponry inspection to watch his young nephew tread his way over to the end of the grass that led to the tall trees and the dense forest behind them. Cassian never once had to fear or worry over a certain area in Night Court, not even close to the Mountains and near the Illyrian Camp.

But something crawled under his skin, almost licking at his spine and sending almost a warning signal to him

He paused, placing his daggers on the quilt again as his eyes moved to Alec. His nephew was babbling to himself, reaching out to grab tuffs of grass in his fingers as the wind was picking up. He could pick up a few familiar scents: the crisp pines from the forest, the sweet grass, Alec's scent on the lotion Nesta put on his skin, and even Nesta's scent that was laced in pomegranate.

But there was something else…something bitter and crisp.

A flicker of movement in front of Alec, almost too quick amongst the dark trees that were swaying in the wind. Cassian's eyes saw it though, a snap of a twig and another flicker that was over to the left. It was no animal, not even deer were that fast or slick. Cassian's intuition and his Commander side were activated now as he was still watching his nephew look at the grass between his finger and attempt to nibble at it. But then the soft sound of something brushing a tree alerted Alec, making him stand up straight and look in that direction. Cassian saw how alert he was, even as a babe he stood still like a grown Illyrian.

His wings, though tucked in tight, showed some flickerings of…..shadows. Cassian then knew that Alec's own shadows he got from his father were alerting him.

Something's wrong

"Cass? Babe, how's going out there?" Nesta asked as she was coming out from the cabin with a washcloth between her fingers. But she saw her mate crouched down a bit, reaching for one of his daggers, and his eyes trained on the forest in front of Alec, who was whimpering a bit from his mini set of shadows that were now along his backside. Her eyes were on alert now, staring still in worry as Cassian gripped a dagger tightly in his hold.

Don't move. Cassian said in the bond to Nesta, sensing her fear and concern as his eyes were on the forest again. He was looking for the slightest movement amongst the dark branches and trees, knowing fully well that someone or something was there and so close to Alec, let alone the three of them in a secluded cabin.

When I tell you to, get Alec and get inside. Lock the door and do not open it unless it's me. Cassian commanded Nesta in his mind as his dagger was gripped hard in his grip. He was still searching, looking through every leaf and pine needle for a sign that his instincts were not wrong, that he was in fear of something that was indeed there and in front of his nephew in plain sight.

He then heard it, a low growl of sorts that seemed animalistic. Cassian threw the dagger instantly. The dagger flew past Alec's head, not close to hitting him but enough to leave him shaken as it launched into the pit of the forest. Cassian heard a yelp and a thud. He hit the target.

"NOW!" He yelled, grabbed another dagger, and started running towards the threat. He ran past Alec, who was whimpering in fear as Cassian knew Nesta was bolting towards Alec and scooping him up in her arms. Cassian didn't even have to look to know that Nesta was sprinting to the cabin with her nephew tight against her chest and locking the door behind her as he made it into the forest.

He could smell the blood as soon as he went past the first line of trees, and then he saw a body hunched over in the dirt and gasping for air as the dagger he had thrown seconds beforehand was sticking out of his chest. Cassian felt anger boil in him as he saw that this was no Night Court citizen, nor was it an Illryian Solider. He could see light hair, dark clothing the fae was wearing, even the weaponry strapped to his hip as Cassian grabbed the back of his head. He yanked his head back, eyes going wide in anger and rage seeing the auburn hair and the bright eyes.

Autumn Court.

"Where is he?"

"The master bedroom,"

Rhysand and Azriel entered the cabin in haste, Azriel leading the way as he was looking for his son with worry his shadows flicking in anger and Rhysand looking over at Cassian. Cassian was remaining calm, sitting at the dining room table with his hands laced together and brows knitted together. Nesta had Alec in the master bedroom, calming down with ease for the past few minutes while Cassian got in contact with Rhysand and Azriel about the close attack. He knew Azriel was not going to be calm when it came to his child, let alone Rhysand. Even Cassian was trying to calm himself down from going out to the fae who almost killed Alec and strangled him to death.

Instead, he tied him to a tree out near the lake, keeping the dagger in his chest for him to bleed out slowly.

A bundle was wrapped and in front of Cassian, his eyes drilled on the bundle while Rhysand walked over to him with his wing ready on high alert. Cassian could hear Azriel cooing and calming his son down, he knew Azriel was going to think twice about doing something to the fae with Alec in his arms. It was a safer bet for Azriel to hold his baby than to go out and kill the fae slowly and with pain.

"Rhys," Cassian said in a warning, Rhysand walking over to him and standing next to him in front of the table as Nesta walked out of the bedroom now, looking more somber and a bit relaxed now that her nephew had her father, "He had this,"

He gestured to the bundle, both Nesta and Rhysand looked in confusion as Cassian then reached for the top of the bundle to remove the fabric. Once he did, Rhysand's eyes went wide, and almost looked disgusted as the sight of a dagger was seen. Laced in orange and red gems along the hilt and handle, the steel did look rather too pristine and delicate. Cassian's eyes looked over at his High Lord, his face filled with anger and rage as he spoke.

"An Autumn Court Blade," Rhysand grimaced.

"You smell it too don't you?" Cassian asked in a low tone, Rhysand bitterly nodding his head as Nesta looked at her mate in confusion.

"Smell what?" She asked, her voice low and almost quivering. Rhysand and Cassian locked eyes, both of them remaining far too calm for the situation but they too were beyond angry.

"It's poisoned," Rhysand hummed, Nesta gasping and covering her mouth in shock. Cassian was shaking his head slowly, closing his eyes, and feeling bitterness deep inside of him that was also laced with guilt.

"I didn't know he was there, I didn't realize…" Cassian was muttering feeling like he was spiraling downwards since he was only thinking of how close Alec was to being hurt, let alone killed. If he was a second late, or a pinch too slow…

"You saved your nephew," Rhysand said to him immediately, placing his hand on Cassian's shoulder as he gave him a hard look, "You saved his life and you went with your gut. Alec is safe, you three are safe, and that's because of you, Cassian. Don't you fucking dare think less than that, understand?"

Cassian looked up at Rhysand, knowing that he was telling him the truth. Cassian always hated putting himself down and thinking he should have done better, he's done it in the past so many times. He would hide it with his jokes and banter, but he wanted to be perfect at times and prove himself. To hear from Rhysand that he succeeded, to know that he saved the life of his brother's son, was worthwhile.

"What about his mother and Feyre?" Nesta asked the pair of them, to which the front door opened again. You came running through, eyes wide and frantic as Feyre was right on your heels. You slid to a halt, seeing the scene in front of you: Rhysand, Cassian, and Nesta sporting looks that were mixed in shock and anger, a dagger sitting on top of a bundle of rags. Your heart was beating rapidly and your mind was spinning over time.

"Where?!" You asked in a breath, Nesta knowing full well you were talking about Alec. She took your hand and led you to the bedroom, Feyre gliding over to her mate and Cassian as Rhysand took in a long breath to mostly control his own emotions.

"High Lord Beron needs to know this," Rhysand said aloud in the room, though Cassian shot him a look, "Those daggers belong to his high fae security and high ranking personal. It's not an Illyrian blade, and if he did this...."

"You think it was him…or a certain Prince with a Vendetta?" Cassian asked in a lower tone, Rhysand's let eyes darted to him immediately as Feryre looked worried.

"Eris wouldn't! To kill a child, a baby?! That's a death sentence, going against his father and this Court! He would be a fool to be behind it—" Feyre started to explain as Cassian gently interrupted her.

"Respectfully, Feyre, he's always been a fool. And if it's him behind this after all…nothing is going to hold back Azriel from tearing him limb to limb, or his mother. I won't hold either of them back, nor will your mate," Feyre's eyes shot to Rhysand, who was looking at the dagger again with a new heat of anger and rage in his eyes. Rhysand knew Cassian was right in that statement. If Eris was behind this attempt to harm or kill Alec, there was no force in Night Court, or beyond that, that would stop Azriel from killing Eris immediately.

"There's something else too, with Alec," Cassian explained, gaining the attention of the High Lord and Lady, "I saw shadows on Alec, along his wings just like Azriel. Small, but they were there. He's a Shadowsinger, like his father,"

"That makes him a bigger target now," Rhysand said in a tremor, the mood once again looking and feeling a bit grim with this new information. Azriel was the only Shadowwinger known, no other Court had one or knew of one except for him. He was coveted by other Courts and their High Lords for centuries to work for them, yet he remained with Night Court and his family. But now to know his son had his gift, it made his safety far more imperative.

Once word got out, the Courts will come for him.

Azriel came out of the bedroom, Cassian shooting up from his spot in the dining room and looking rather concerned at Azriel as he was approached by the Spymaster. Was Azriel going to hate him for almost having Alec in danger? Would he be angry at Cassian for the close call? How was he going to react as he stood in front of Cassian with a stone face? Cassian was about to say something to him, almost trying to explain it himself what happened.

But Azriel hugged him tightly, fiercely, as a brother would for another brother.

Cassian was in shock, but he hugged him back as Azriel was clinging to him and not letting him go for a long moment. Azriel was never one to be a hugger unless he was deeply and intensely moved by something. Cassian felt almost like collapsing, feeling that hug to his core as Azriel pulled away and stared at him with his hazel eyes.

Cassian knew that look on him since he had seen it. He saw it the first time they met as children and he took Azriel to meet Rhysand, he saw it when he taught Azriel how to fly to get strength in his wings.

A look of gratefulness and love.

"You saved my son," Azriel said calmly, though there were tears in his eyes as he stared into Cassian's soul, "Cass…I can't thank you enough for saving my boy. My world—"

"Hey, It's okay," Cassian urged him as he clasped Azriel on the back of his neck, feeling Azriel trembling as he gave him a nervous smile, "Az, I would do anything for him, for any of us. You guys are my family, okay?"

Azriel nodded, and although he seemed calm in front of Cassian, he knew the wheels turning in Azriel's mind. He remained calm in the moment, but deep down he was in a rage. The kind of anger that seeps in the pours and is almost like a poison to snuff out. Alec's life was almost taken in a split second, and there was no way and no force that was going to stop Azriel, or his mother for that matter, from inflicting harm on those who tried to take their son.

Azriel moved away from Cassian, walking back to the master bedroom with Rhysand and Freyre in tow. Cassie stayed behind, grasping the back of the chair and letting out a massive sigh of relief as Nesta left the room. Cassian could hear the group chatting together about what happened as she closed the door and walked to Cassian with worry in her eyes at her mate and his condition. Cassian's shoulders felt heavy and his mind felt like it was in a fog, all that adrenaline was gone and he could collapse at any moment.

So Nesta hugged her mate tightly, Cassian digging his face in her hair to inhale her scent and be centered again. There was peace again, his heart slowed down and his mind was back to being at ease with the calm words from Azriel and his mate holding him close. In his mind, he was thinking of what he did wrong and how he should have stopped the threat sooner. But to the others, he saved a little boy's life.

His eyes looked back to the dagger that was still on the table, and he felt his heart falling to his stomach at the sight.

It was a sign of conflict that had just begun.

The End.

Tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams

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animezinglife · 29 days

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I love and appreciate that Elain prefers her skirts and dresses, but I also can't help but think how completely beautiful she would look in travel clothes and/or trousers if she ever had to wear them for practicality's sake.

She would still find a way to make them look graceful and entirely her own.

Just imagine her turning down Illyrian leathers to travel in but emerging in something like this and poor Lucien--the silver-tongued charmer who loves a lady in a pretty dress--can't even formulate an intelligent sentence because of how hot she looks.

I personally don't want Elain to become a warrior, but I do want to see her branching out and leaving her comfort zone. I want to see her travel and learn new things and explore new places. Use her intuition and charms to build connections among courts and to find her own place in her new world.

I want to see her riding horses and loving on random forest creatures. Picking wildflowers and foraging weird faerie mushrooms that she and Lucien accidentally get high on.

I want her to be completely free and to have it all.

#elain archeron #I'm kidding slightly not also not really #lucien vanserra #elucien #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #it's loving Elain hours as usual #Idk maybe she throws mushrooms into a wilderness stew when they're out somewhere and cooks them wrong

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danikamariewrites · 6 months

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Azriel x reader

A/n: this is a modern/cc type AU. I loved writing this and thank you @thehighladywrites for commissioning this❤️ again, so happy you love it!

Word Count: 1,869

Warnings: drinking, allusions to sex, and fluff

You’ve been looking forward to Friday night all week. You Feyre, Nesta, and Elain had no time to hangout at all this week, so letting loose with your girlfriends is something you are in desperate need of. Your favorite part of going out is getting ready with them.

Nesta was the best at makeup, especially eyeliner. Feyre had the cutest clothes and shoes, and Elain was the best at hair, while you were great at throwing together outfits.

Currently, Nesta has your face in an iron grip so you don’t move away from the eyeliner she’s applying on you. You could hear Elain rummaging through Feyre’s shoes for the pink pair she loves. “All done. And don’t you dare smudge it. That’s a perfect wing.”

A small laugh escapes your lips as you pull on your mini dress. “Yes, yes I know Nes.” You hear Elain drop something out of frustration in the closet and call your name. Rushing over, you see she’s in complete disarray.

“What’s up lain?” She turns to you, giving you the saddest pout she can muster. “Will you help me pick out an outfit? I don’t wanna wear the same thing as last time but I want the pink shoes.”

After an hour you were all finally dressed up and ready to leave. Feyre poured four shots for you all of your favorite vodka. Clinking glasses the four of you downed the shots. “Here’s to a fun night ladies!” Feyre said cheerfully.

—

Entering Rita’s you noticed it was way more crowded than usual. You guys didn’t mind. As long as you got your drinks and danced until your feet hurt you would have a good time.

Once you got to your usual table you noticed four males across the bar staring at you and your friends. It wasn’t creepy, more inviting and flirtatious. And you had to admit none of the four were bad looking. They were all quite beautiful in different ways.

Two of them had the biggest Illyrian wings you had ever seen while the other two were clearly high fae. One with short, perfectly styled hair, tan skin. While the other had long red hair and a scar across his face.

You gave the pretty one with wings who was eyeing you a small smile as you sipped your cocktail before pulling Nesta onto the dance floor.

The stares throughout the night get even more intense as Feyre, Nesta, and Elain notice their admirers. The male staring at you sent you a wink that caused your cheeks to heat so bad that you had to take a break from ogling him.

Sitting in your usual booth and munching on nachos you peeked back over at the males, biting your lip. You were contemplating going over to them and asking them to join you. Elain nudges you with her foot under the table. Your head snapped toward her with a small smile. She narrows her eyes at you.

“You’re practically undressing that one male with your eyes.” She yelled over the thumping music. You giggled and dipped your head in embarrassment. “They've been staring at us all night.” You looked back over at them, “Should I go ask them to sit with us?”

The girls turned to look at them with you. As Nesta eyed the more muscular one a smirk broke out across her lips. “I say yes.” “Me too.” Elain and Feyre speak in unison. That’s all you needed. Pushing up from the booth with confidence you’d never felt, you begin to strut over to the males.

Stopping at their table you move your hands behind your back to hide their shaking. Your heart was beating so loud you were sure they could hear it.

“Hello,” you say in a sweet tone. “H-hi.” The one you had been sharing glances with stuttered, trying to lean on the high top table to seem relaxed. He was clearly as nervous as you. “I’m y/n.” You hold out your hand for him to take.

“Azriel,” he says cooly, holding out a scarred hand reluctantly. You take it, giving it a soft squeeze as you look deep into those gorgeous hazel eyes.

“My friends and I were wondering if you’d like to sit with us.” Your eyes sweep across their faces as they lit up. The muscular one repeatedly hits Azriel’s shoulder as if telling him ‘yes, say yes you idiot!’. “We’d love to.” He finally got out. You give him a wide smile and lead the males over to the table.

“Girls, this is Azriel. And his friends…” you trailed off waiting for them to introduce themselves. Muscles pushed Azriel aside, maintaining eye contact with Nesta as he brought her hand to his lips. “I’m Cassian.” “Nesta.” She replied coolly.

Azriel rolls his eyes at Cassian and the other male with black hair steps forward. “I’m Rhysand, lovely to meet you ladies.” He says with a feline grin that’s clearly natural to him. “I’m Lucien.” The red-head gives a small wave directed at Elain. “Sit.” Feyre says with a giddy look on her face as she drinks in every inch of Rhysand. He immediately gravitates toward her while Lucien sits next to Elain, Cassian nudges in next to Nesta, and to your excitement, Azriel sat next to you.

You thank the Mother. You had your eye on him all night and it seemed he felt the same way.

The conversation between the group flowed. You learned that Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian grew up together in the Illyrian camps and were practically brothers. It was rare that Illyrians lived in the city these days. But Rhys screamed wealth, so you assumed his parents were important people. Lucien had a falling out with his bestfriend, causing him to move out and the brothers took him in.

You and Lucien became fast friends over that shared experience. It was nice to finally get that off your chest. But the person who paid attention most to your story, really anything that came out of your mouth, was Azriel. He asked you questions and seemed truly interested in you. It made you flustered. Males aren’t usually so attentive like him. And you didn’t miss the mischievous looks each Archeron sister gave you when they caught him looking at you.

Feyre and Rhys left first. You knew that was coming, he practically had Feyre on his lap the whole night. Minutes later Nesta and Cassian took off with out a word. Then Lucien and Elain left arm-in-arm, leaving you and Azriel alone.

Your phone buzzed in your bag. Pulling it out you see notifications from the roommate groupchat from each female, letting each other know where they were and that they would not be coming home tonight.

You let out a breathy laugh before closing your phone and dropping it back in your bag.

“Do you want to stay for a bit?” Azriel asked. You looked up at him and nodded eagerly. You spent the rest of the night dancing together until you could barley stand.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked outside Rita’s, offering his arm like a true gentelmale. “Yeah, I’d like that. Plus, I’m not ready to let you go yet.” Azriel laughed and you led him in the direction of your apartment. On the way you and Azriel swap stories from your childhood as he flirts with you. You couldn’t stop blushing the whole way home.

Arriving at your apartment the tension between the two of you was at a breaking point. You lean against the door looking up at his towering figure, biting your lip again. “You look adorable when you do that.” Azriel thumbs at your lip and the all too familiar pink tint crawls back to your cheeks. “I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye yet.” Azriel leans in close so that your noses brush against each other. “Me either.” He breathes out.

Azriel places his hand on the side of your neck and your eyes flutter close. He gently captures your lips in a slow, heated kiss. Warmth floods your body as his other arm wraps around your waist.

You blindly reach out and turn the door handle. Azriel picked you up without breaking the kiss, taking you into the apartment. “Down the hall, second door on the right.” You mumble against his lips. He lets out a hum in acknowledgement.

The next morning you’re sitting in the kitchen with your coffee going over your night with Azriel. You couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of his soft lips. The way his hands touched you in all the right places. Smiling to yourself you read over his text for the hundredth time.

Hey y/n, I can’t wait to see you for dinner tmrw night. Hope you have a good day sweetheart ;).

The picture next to his contact was a selfie he took in bed this morning. His onyx hair sticking up in places, a cute smile on his lips.

The front door opened, pulling you from your memories. Nesta trudged into the kitchen, shoes in hand and hair ruffled in places. But a smile on her face nonetheless. “Good night?” She nodded. “You?” You nod, motioning for her to sit.

Before you could pour her coffee Feyre and Elain came home. Both looking like Nesta. You grab mugs for them as they sit at the table.

One by one you each go over your nights. All absolutely giddy about your new males. You went last, following up your night with your good news. “I’m going to see him tomorrow night. He asked me to dinner.” The sisters let out a unanimous ‘ooohhh’. Feyre reached across the table to hold your hands. “I made plans with Rhys too.” You both let out a squeal of happiness.

Nesta and Elain go back and forth about texting Cassian and Lucien first. Sitting here with your best friends you can’t help but feel something has changed for the better. Like the mother herself brought you all together last night. You felt a phantom nudge on your shoulder as you encourage them to text the boys. Social rules be damned.

—-

It’s been a year since you and Azriel started dating. It happened so fast, but in a good way. It didn’t take long for the rest of the males to follow up with your friends.

Nesta and Cassian played hard to get for a while, as well as Elain and Lucien. But they worked it out. You had never seen Elain happier than with Lucien. They are the cutest couple. Feyre and Rhys happened right away. Faster than you and Azriel.

It was another Friday night, similar to that fateful one a year ago, but tonight was different. It was calm and fun. Each couple cuddled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn watching the movie you and Az picked.

You guys still partied and went out just not as frequently now that you were all coupled up. You liked this. These calm moments where you could all be together. No partying, no loud clubs or obscene amounts of alcohol every weekend. Just relaxing with the love of your life.

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

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tswaney17 · 7 months

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Obessesion

Azriel loved everything about Elain.

He loved her smile.

He loved the brightness of her eyes.

He loved how she had such a warm and caring heart.

But he was obsessed with her neck.

He thought it might be that deep Illyrian instinct inside of him that came roaring to the surface whenever she bared the pale skin of her neck for him. A desire to lap at the delicate flesh with his tongue after he brutally bit it until a bruise blossomed from his machinations.

Azriel loved to mark her body with his bites. Loved how beneath the modest gowns she donned, she wore his claims like brands on her skin.

Boldly.

Proudly.

She loved being ravished by his mouth. Could settle on his lap or beneath him for hours as he let his teeth and tongue taste every inch of her body.

Nobody knew that under her clothes she was always peppered by a garden of black and blue and purple from him. Flowers upon her skin, some freshly bloomed while others had slowly begun to wilt away.

He smiled every time she undressed in front of him as he counted the bruises still visible upon her flesh.

Tonight was no different.

They were sequestered at the Townhouse, riding out a bad snow storm. Azriel had barely been able to arrive before the worst of it hit, kicking the front steps to dust snow off his boots before entering the warmth of the house.

Elain, as usual, was found in the kitchen, a spread of baked goods surrounding her on the marble counters. She smiled at him, a slash of brilliant white between pink lips. “You made it. I was afraid the storm might have kept you away,” she said, pulling a loaf of fresh baked bread from the oven.

Az leaned a hip on the doorway, brushing loose snowflakes from his thick hair. “Nothing could keep me away from here, beautiful. But it does look like we’ll be stuck here for a few days.”

A pretty blush dusted her cheeks at the endearment. “How awful,” she muttered, lips turning up at the corners. “Whatever will we do to pass the time?” Those dark eyes went molten under his heated stare.

He beckoned her with a crook of his finger, taking her hand when she approached and guiding them to the sitting room, Elain perching on his lap.

“I say,” he began, running his hands up and down her body, feeling the cotton fabric beneath his scarred fingers. “We take all the time in the world to enjoy the company of your bed.”

Elain’s body shuddered in response and she leaned forward slightly, providing him prime access to that perfect neck. “Why don’t you give me a little preview of what to anticipate?” she murmured, voice husky with need.

Twisting her hair around his fist for leverage, he brought his mouth to her skin. Felt her pulse flutter beneath his lips.

A soft kiss. One to just tease her a bit. Then another, this one more insistent. And another, until his teeth scraped over neck, sucking the flesh between them and biting.

Elain moaned, hands bracing themselves on his strong shoulders. Her hips wiggled on his lap, grazing his growing erection.

Fuck, she always felt so good. Tasted so sweet.

He released her neck, licking the hurt away before drawing the same spot back into his mouth. He’d work the same area over and over again into the night. Until he was sure it’d take at least a week for it to even begin fading.

Because Elain wearing his marks on her skin, on her neck…yeah, that was his obsession.

~~~~~

I finally wrote something. 😭 This was just a quick phone fic, but I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve actually written something. Please lord, let this be my comeback. 🛐🙏

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imaginesmai · 6 months

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Right around the corner - Azriel (5)

AHHHHH this is the final part and let me tell you I'm SAD. It was so hard to write the ending you all deserve after all this love, so I tried my best. Let me know what you think! Also, you deserve A LOT, so I made it long hehehe. Don't worry, a request about the RATH universe is coming soon! If you want one too, drop it in my inbox!

(1), (2), (3), (4)

Plot: The story of how Azriel fixed what was broken, and how you forgave him.

Warnings: this is sad, but has a happy ending! Also, mental health issues.

No one expected the sidra to froze that year, and against everyone expectation, one day Velaris had woken up to see the riven covered by a silver layer. Children had missed school to skate in the solid surface, parents watching carefully from the edge. Some couples were skating too, holding hands and giggling endlessly.

You had been watching the new scene unfold all morning. And while you usually loved snow and ice as much as any child in town, you were starting to get a little sick of all the noise.

It wasn’t your new employee situation, who had been staring at the river all morning. She had already finished her duties, but always the polite and nice girl, Elain Archeron was keeping you company.

When you spotted for the third time the familiar red-head through the glass and she didn’t say anything, just sighed, you decided you had enough.

“You should tell him to get in before he freezes to death” you commented, still busy with measuring the ingredients.

“Oh, no” Elain blushed and looked away from the window. “No. He’s just… He can wait”

“He can, but doesn’t have to. You and Lucien should head out, rent ice skates and have a fun day. You already finished here” you smiled kindly at her, and before she could reply, you added. “I’m fine, I don’t even like cold weather. And I still need to finish this, which you can’t help me with. So, go”

Elain stared at you with uncertainty, and you tried to look as convinced as possible. Would you have liked her to stay? After all, she was one of the few people you socialized with these days. She had turned in when you opened the bakery again, right after you posted the sign about looking for a new partner.

And even if you had had your doubts when you discovered she was Feyre’s sister and Azriel’s friend, you considered her your own friend.

So, yeah, you would have liked her to stay. Because you were still awfully sad all the time, and her company was one of the few things that made your day better. But you being sad didn’t excuse her missing a wonderful day with her mate.

“It’s not closing time yet” her eyes danced between the glass and you. “He was supposed to wait for me at the house”

“Guess he’s too eager to see you. He’s been dancing around the bakery for a good hour” you chuckled. “Elain, I mean it. Go. Have fun. I’ll see you on Monday”

“Y/N, I promise I don’t mind waiting. It’s not like it will unfreeze”

“And I promise I don’t mind at all. So, go, have fun and tell me about it on Monday” you gripped her hand softly over the counter, nodding to the waiting mal outside. “Come on, go”

Lucien was once more outside the bakery, the only visible part of him his red hair. He was covered in thick layers, but still managed to smile when Elain kissed your cheek and took her coat on the way out.

You didn’t have it in you to watch them be affectionate with each other, so you looked down at your task and decided it would be the last of the day.

It was hard watching all those couples walking hand in hand and remembering the feel of his warm, scarred hand in yours. To hear a man laughing and remember the unexpected laughs you dragged out of him sometimes. Even looking at the river was painful, because you could almost see the ghost of Azriel and you learning how to skate in a frozen lake in the Illyrian mountains a few years ago.

You had seen Azriel around a few times now, walking through your bakery and waving at you through the glass. Two times he had been waiting at the door when it was late at night, silently walking you home from afar without talking. Almost two months had passed by and your feelings were still as messed up as before.

Though you didn’t cry as much as before, and you were starting to get better, you still wondered.

If Azriel getting help would mean your relationship would be fixed, or if it was broken permanently. Deep in your thoughts, and used as you were to Azriel’s shadows, you didn’t notice how they tugged on your apron until the door sounded again.

Elain’s name didn’t leave your lips, because as soon as the door opened, you lost your breath. As if you had summoned him, Azriel walked through the door, beautiful as ever. He wasn’t in his usual training leather, but winter clothes that fit him as a glove. Instantly, you noticed he had lost weight. His shoulders were slumped and his body didn’t carry the usual grace of an Illyrian warrior.

“Hi”

His scarred hands, that had held you so many times and slaughtered so many enemies, were tucked in his coat’s pockets. You could feel the nervousness through the bond, the hesitance. Too stunned to answer, you only stared at him.

You had known that, eventually, he would talk to you. That you would have to do more than just wave at each other through the glass and stay silent when he sent you details through Elain. But still, you hadn’t expected it.

Unable to move, you only blinked.

“I saw Elain and Lucien heading out” he added, not looking away from you. “It’s a nice day outside”

Azriel hadn’t finished before one of his new shadows scaped his control, sneaking around the counter. The familiar ones, that had been by your side since he left, danced around the new intrusion. It lifted your apron, and crawled up your neck.

The cool feeling was the last of your worries, because no matter how much you willed yourself to say something, you couldn’t even tear your eyes from him.

The bond flickered between the two of you, once more. Knowing that it was one-sided, that he didn’t wear it like you did, made break your trance.

“She’s finished for the day” you explained, sounding way more confident that what you felt.

“It’s a nice day, yeah” he repeated, not giving you time to feel awkward before he continued “I thought that maybe you wanted to take a walk with me. It’s cold, but we could… get coffee. Or chocolate, if you want”

Azriel gave you a half, broken smile. Hearing his voice again made you take ten steps backward.

“I have things to do”

You looked down to your current task, which could be easily discarded. You had left much important things half-done because of him, and you would have done it normally without a second thoughts. But no matter how heartful the conversation at your door had been, you just knew you weren’t ready to have a conversation without getting angry.

You knew you weren’t ready to forgive him.

His new shadow gripped your wrist tightly before disappearing, and you heard Azriel’s doubt. He wanted to say something else, and you wanted too. Still, you fell back to your measuring and ignored the way your vision blurred, how your knees became weak again.

Maybe going back to your duties was the only way not to break down again.

The silence continued for a long minute. You couldn’t not feel his presence, the way his scent filled the bakery and made your stomach turn. Your heart recognized what you needed, what you wanted, and threatened to jump out of your chest.

Before you could regret your words, Azriel opened the door again.

“You’re forgetting the yeast” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

When you looked up again, he only smiled. You opened your mouth to tell him to wait, maybe to fuck off and never come again. You didn’t have time, because Azriel closed the door behind him and he was gone.

The first tear fell against the unformed dough, followed by many more. You wouldn’t be finishing the blueberry cake that afternoon, you realized, as you crunched behind the counter and cried.

There was a storm coming, and everyone in Velaris had had the same idea – run to the market, buy everything they needed for a few days, and crowd themselves at home with their loved ones. You were trying to follow the first part of the plan, not having anyone to go home anymore. And if that wasn’t enough reason to drag you down, the crowd was getting intense.

Velaris’ market was a beautiful place, full of shops and nice vendors. But that day, the space felt too small.

You already had a few bags with you, yet there were a few more to go. Wanting to finish as soon as possible, you had ignored the rational part of your brain and had gotten in the middle of the crowd. You had only managed to buy milk and pasta, and still had a long way to go.

After Azriel’s brief appearance, your life had been messier than before. He had come by the bakery at least five times more, always offering you some kind of plan you rejected. Going to the park, for a flight or to a coffee shop. Taking walks, watching the sunset or training together.

You lived now half-prepared to see him walking through your door again, and not having the heart to tell him no. You weren’t sure if that thought frightened or comforted you.

In your haste, you had almost forgotten to buy provisions for the storm, and had found yourself on the worst day to do them. Crowded, loud and suffocating, that was how you would describe the market at that moment.

The fact that most people ran with their children and family wasn’t helpful at all.

Most of the times, it was Azriel who did the last-minute shopping for you. He knew you didn’t like crowds, loud places, that you did best in your bakery where only five people were allowed at a time.

Another shove broke you down from your daydreaming, and you looked back to see a pregnant woman staring with her eyebrows furrowed.

“The line is moving” she spatted, pointing to the small space ahead of you. “If you don’t move with it, you should step out”

“Oh, no” you chuckled softly. You picked up the bags on the ground and took the two small steps that you were supposed to. “Sorry, I just thought I could take a little bit more space. It’s crowded here”

“I don’t mind crowds, so if you want to step back, let me get first. I’m in a hurry”

“Me too” you gave her a polite smile, mindful of her state.

The short distance that separated you from the customer on the front was certainly not enough, and she knew it. Still, she looked at you with disapproval. There were only five more people to go until it was your turn, you could buy your snacks and run to the next stall.

You thought you could ignore the glare at the back of your neck, and you did for a few minutes. Without meaning to, you thought how everything with Azriel was easier. Not only people wouldn’t dare to talk to him like that, but also, he assured you a good meter of distance between you two and the rest of the world with his wings.

The snacks on your hands almost fell when, not even two seconds after the man took three steps forward, you were shoved again.

That time, when you looked back, the woman was accompanied by her mate. His wings covered her from the people behind them.

“You should really step out of the line” she repeated. “You might have all the time in the word, but we are in a hurry”

“Me too. You can’t expect me to be glued to that man” you tried to explain, anxiety coiling in your stomach. “He just moved”

“And you didn’t, which proves my point. Besides, it’s obvious you only have a few things. We have more”

“Which should be enough reason to let me go first, not only because I was here before you” you shrugged, feeling even more uncomfortable when the male huffed a laugh. “Maybe it’s you who shouldn’t have come here today if you can’t wait in a line”

You weren’t a threat for the woman, and you were trying really hard to be polite and prove your point. Besides, being pregnant wasn’t an easy task, and you could tell she was far along. Maybe you should have let her pass, or maybe told her to fuck off.

But before you could argue further, something clicked in the male’s eyes, wide with recognition.

And you would have preferred for him to go full berserk mode on you. Because you recognized that look, you had been receiving them for a while now.

The male elbowed the woman’s side softly, pointing with his chin towards you. You didn’t have time to turn back and avoid the conversation, because he spoke.

“You’re the shadowsinger’s mate” he announced, loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Oh” the woman finally connected the dots and lunged forward to grab your arm so tight you couldn’t shake her off. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry” you pushed your arm back, trying to let go.

While the woman apologized, you couldn’t help but listen to the whispers. The same ones you had heard in your bakery and through the streets. Some of them thrown in your face by rude or nosy customers that didn’t understand the concept of privacy, others by bystanders.

At the end, it was the woman who said it out loud, confirming what everyone in the small circle that had formed at the cue was wondering about. She finally let go of your arm and crossed hers in front of her body.

The look of pity wasn’t as bad as the confirmation.

“He rejected you, right?” it wasn’t a question, not when you didn’t answer and she continued. “We heard you’ve been mated for almost a century and he doesn’t want the bond. Is that true?”

It wasn’t true, but you didn’t have the heart to correct her. Instead, you turned around and used your wing-less privileges to sneak through the crowd. You kept your head down, as if that could stop you from hearing the comments or feeling the stares.

People had come up with an alternative version where Azriel and you had been mated for decades, for centuries. Where you had cheated on him or he had changed you for someone else. You had even heard that he had bonded with another person and had kicked you out of the house, and that you had been the one rejecting the bond.

Each version was farthest from the truth than the last one, but they all hurt the same. The crowd didn’t seem to get thinner no matter how deep you got in the market. Once the people who had heard the conversation were left behind, new people crowded you, worried about the girl panicking and running through the middle of the market.

There were a few occasions where you thought you would fall, where you tripped and almost embarrassed yourself farther. You had almost made it to the back entrance of the market when you finally realized you were tripping no more. There was no longer a crowd around you, nor whispers or hands reaching your way.

It took you another few steps to fully stop and assess the situation. When you looked back to see where the crowd was, you were met with a broad chest inches away from you. Through tearful eyes, you recognized Azriel’s wings tucking you away from people, his mere presence pushing them away.

You met his hazel eyes, full of worry and regret. His hair was longer, covering his brow, but you found comfort in his crooked nose, in his freckles, that you knew so well.

You noticed in his hands your bags that had been left in the stall, a new one with the snacks you were about to buy.

“What – what are you doing here?” you choked out, too grateful for the sudden moment of peace to wonder about anything else.

“I felt you through the bond, a few hours ago. Anxious and…” he stopped himself, his eyes scanning every tear that marked your cheeks. “I was just getting here when it got worse. I heard most of it. I’m –”

“Don’t say you’re sorry” you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault”

Out of the many things that were indeed his fault, people not minding their own business wasn’t his. You were used to him blaming himself for everything, from wars in other courts to people fighting in the street. The response came naturally.

Your nose was cold and runny, your hands frozen in your pockets, and your feet hurt. Besides all of that, you felt all wrong. Because you enjoyed his presence, because what they said, and because you couldn’t help but calm down when he was close.

Azriel didn’t say anything when you took the bags from his hands, thanking him quietly. He didn’t say anything as more people walked away from him, either because of his wings or because they recognized him.

“You don’t like last minute shopping”

It was a pointless observation, but it was better than to comment on how afraid he had been when, just outside the market, he felt the bond snap with urgence. His shadows knew where you were, and that you needed him, but even he had trouble running through crowds. Azriel also couldn’t talk about how mad he had been at everyone in that stall, how his new shadows had turned off every light and almost chocked them to death.

Azriel wanted to say that you were probably cold because you didn’t like your own coats, and most of the times wore one of his. He wanted to hug you, too, to feel you between his arms after what felt like an eternity and promise you that it would end well.

But he couldn’t say anything more than the obvious.

“I had to” you answered.

With a furious fist, frustrated at life, at him and at you, you brushed the tears off your cheeks. You could tell that he wanted to keep talking, and you did too. Since your last encounter, you had come up with more conversations you should have.

You stared at each other for what seemed forever. There were details that you had almost forgotten in your sorrow – like his long lashes, that you teased him about. Or the freckle that snuck up to the corner of his left eye. The way his mouth rose higher from the right, and the small scar on his ear from where Cassian dared him to wear an earring.

Only his face was enchanting enough to help you forget about the day, about the weight of your chest. It was the first closing call from the market, that sounded through the public speakers, that broke you away.

“I should go”

You talked at the same time, and you smiled softly when you pointed to different directions. You didn’t miss how his eyes fell to your mouth, how his own lifted up too.

“I could walk you back” he offered, not tearing his eyes away from your mouth. “If you let me”

You didn’t answer immediately. Those last words, that he had repeated so often lately, almost had you saying yes. You could almost imagine how it would go – him walking by your side, one of his wings behind your back. His elbow brushing yours, and his gaze fixed on you.

Your smile dropped when you remembered the times you had walked just like that, tucked together. The times you had waked by yourself through Velaris with his imprint on you, and the times he had left without a trace of your presence.

Azriel knew the answer before you said it, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Sorry”

That time, you decided to turn away before he could. Taking the back exit was a poor choice, knowing it was farther from your house than the main one, but you couldn’t picture yourself walking through the market without Azriel keeping the crowds a step away.

So you turned around, gripped your bags tight and didn’t tear your eyes from the ground during the whole way back.

It wasn’t Azriel who found you the time everything changed, but you.

The cold and winter were over, the streets were clean and the sun was out. It was a perfect day to spend outside, and Elain seemed fixed in throwing you out of your own shop. She claimed that the bags under your eyes were as dark as the night, and that your skin was so pale that she couldn’t tell the flour stains apart from it.

“Just for the record, you’re kicking the owner of the bakery out of the bakery” you stated, looking at her once more from the door. “You do realize that shouldn’t happen, right?”

“I’m helping a friend come out of her ghost-like season” she replied, still decorating muffins. “And you do realize that most shops close on Sunday’s, right?”

“Certainly not a bakery” you looked to the empty fountain at her right. “If we do it together, we will – “

“If you touch one single item of this bakery, I’m banning you from the kitchen for a month”

You doubted she meant it, she could. But still, you sighed and turned around to open the door. You weren’t an extrovert, certainly not an outsider. Since you were a child, you liked your kitchen, your house, and your space. And none of those things were outside the door.

But you actually feared what the fae you left behind would do if you turned back. Elain had already hidden your apron so you couldn’t put it on, and had threatened to mismatch the soy milk with normal one.

Giving her a last, tight smile through the glass, you walked towards the center of Velaris.

Not many people were outside that soon on a Sunday morning, but you were glad for her insistence the moment the sun kissed your face. The cold weather was disappearing and you could feel warmth across your cheeks. It was still cold, and it would be for at least another week, but the change in the weather promised a happy spring.

You walked aimlessly around Velaris, stopping to watch the Sidra move every now and then. Your feet carried you through unfamiliar streets, all of them filled with colors and smells. The longer you walked, the healthier you felt. Each step felt like a weight lifted from your chest, and you even smiled to a few usuals you found in the streets.

The main square peeked through the streets. It wasn’t your usual destination, too crowded and not as pretty as other parts of the town. But you still walked through it, feeling at ease and happy.

It had happened before, usually the days before you started your cycle, and you should have known the feeling of ease had nothing to do with the weather or the walk. It had happened and it happened again, just as you rounded a corner to walk in the square.

If, by any chance, Azriel hadn’t noticed you coming, the shadows that tugged him away from where he was standing would have made it obvious.

His eyes widened when he saw you, and you felt that peaceful feeling making its home for the day. There was no sorrow, no sadness, and none of the usual feelings that lately you felt when it came to him.

You cursed yourself stupid when you realized that you cycle was coming, and that every year you were in a mood until Azriel showed up, your hormones demanding your mate.

“Y/N”

Your name fell from your mouth and just by hearing it you noticed something different. It was new, and at the same time, you thought you recognized it somehow. You looked to his empty hands, to the syphons on his shoulders and chest and truth-teller on his side.

It looked like you had interrupted something important to him. But instead of running away from him like the last two times, you took a step closer.

“Are you going on a mission?” you pointed with your chin to his leather, eyes stopping at his chest. There was that thing, that you couldn’t name.

“Just came back. I was…”

Azriel looked to the building he just exited and for a moment, in silence. You had met a bunch of times since the incident in the market, and you had started having longer conversations. About the weather, about your bakery, and even about his family, who you finally knew officially.

Certainly, your relationship had improved, although it wasn’t just fixed yet. When he didn’t answer, you were reminded of all the times he had kept things to himself, either out of fear or doubt.

He seemed to doubt between telling you and keeping it to himself. Any other time, you knew, he would have kept it to himself. He had done it, in the past – when you asked him about his job, or tried to understand his past. Many times where he had evaded the truth or his emotions.

Your mood, that had been in a rush since you left the bakery, fell a little at his silence. He looked torn and you were ready to leave, before he answered.

“This is Madja’s house. I meet her here so we can talk, usually during the week” he looked back at you, watching the surprise of his statement. “But something happened and I needed to talk to her”

“What happened?”

Azriel’s lips were pressed tight, debating on whether he should tell you or not. He wouldn’t have doubted about it a year ago – he wouldn’t tell you, because in his eyes, it would only hurt you more than he already had. But he had learnt new things, and had realized that a relationship was built on trust. And that his fears, his perception of the reality, had broken yours.

He had cut the mission short when he had noticed, though he wasn’t sure he had ever done something like that. Azriel didn’t know what had triggered it, why it happened in the Winter court and not anytime sooner.

Madja, of course, had had an answer ready – an answer that had left him staring at her door for long twenty minutes before you appeared.

“Kallias should have sent something to Rhysand, but he didn’t” he started, not sure why he was traveling so far from the event. “So I went to check. Turns out someone must have taken it and, well, I tried to…”

He trailed off before he could finish, aware of your confusion. You never talked about what he did for Rhysand, in any court. No matter how big or small was the assignment, he didn’t tell you about it.

But that wasn’t what your confusion was about, at least not all of it. You couldn’t possibly notice because you had given it for granted since the beginning, but Azriel did notice. He noticed the change as soon as it happened, and babbled when he explained to Rhysand what he should have been feeling for years.

Had explained to Madja moments ago, who had given him a knowing smile and a proud nod.

“I accepted the bond” he confessed, continuing before you could say anything else. “I don’t know how, or why, but I was there and suddenly I was hit with – with this in my chest, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t happen sooner”

“You accepted the bond” you repeated, looking between his chest and face.

“I don’t know how, or why now. I was, thinking… And it hit me” Azriel smiled sadly, not saying what his thoughts were about – what they had been about since that night. “I didn’t want to tell you, because, this is, you don’t have to do anything now. Me accepting the bond doesn’t change what I did”

Azriel hadn’t meant to tell you, neither to be so vague and ridiculously nervous about it.

It had been a surprise when, in the middle of a conversation, he felt it. He had been thinking about you, because there were flowers and they were pretty against the cold weather, and to him, you were the prettiest thing the Cauldron had made. One moment Kallias had been going through the last movements of the package and the next the high lord was looking at him with raised brows.

Congratulating him for something that should have happened six years ago.

“It’s not that I didn’t want the bond before, Y/N” he continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise you, I didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know that I deserved it”

Azriel had thought, and he still wanted to, that you so pretty that you were meant for someone else. That it was borrowed time, that he didn’t deserve the bond just as he didn’t deserve you. With Madja and Rhys, they had had deep conversations about his mental health, about his version of life where he lived through a glass of pain and rejection.

As he stared at your surprised form, he tried not to let hope leak into his heart. He knew it didn’t fix what was broken, but he hoped it was the first step of a long recovery to win you back.

Only if you could confirm or deny, instead of stare at him.

“Say something” Azriel finally broke, almost begged. “Whatever you want. Just say something”

And you wanted to, because wasn’t that what you had wanted? You had fooled yourself lately thinking about may what ifs. What if he had accepted the bond in the bagging, what if he had told you that he wasn’t fine, that he was broken and needed help.

What if you had helped him and not rushed things when he wasn’t ready. Now, it felt like the Cauldron was giving you that opportunity, only that you didn’t know how to react.

You finally looked away from him and decided to give an experimental tug on the bond, to see if anything had changed.

It had.

“Az”

It was a chuckle, maybe the beginning of a cry. It was anger but also relief because what came back from that tug wasn’t what you usually felt. It was stronger, solid, as if there was a physical string between your bodies that kept you linked.

Usually, it was just an intense feeling that was enough for you. But now that you felt him tugging back, felt him loving you, you couldn’t hold back another laugh. He shoved down through it everything he felt – adoration, love, joy. Many fears that had you stumbling towards him, and pain.

So much pain that your smile dropped. His dropped too, and you felt the bond getting fainter.

“That’s another reason. I didn’t want you to feel… that” Azriel retreated the bond farther. “I have so many fears and pains here that I couldn’t even imagine sharing them with you. And that – “

“You don’t have to feel ashamed” you cut him off, your voice hoarse. “I love you the same”

Words were unnecessary when you hugged his middle and buried yourself in his chest. He curled around you, like he had done so many times.

The channel snapped open again, and you just closed your eyes tightly. It was an endless source of emotions, and it broke you that most of them were bad. There was rejection, from so many people that it felt like an angry, black bull coming your way. Sadness that felt overwhelming and never ending, always coming in waves when Azriel didn’t expect it.

You also felt disgust, and you only held him tighter when you discovered it was self-disgust. Not only at the things that he had done, but also at what had been done to him. The scars on his hands, the shadows around him. He had hated himself for so long he had forgotten how to love.

But then, at the bottom, there was something bright, and that part you realized it was only dedicated to you. There was his family too, but it wasn’t as intense as his love for you. Everything that he lacked during his life, that he yearned for, was tucked where it mattered the most.

“I love you” he whispered against your head, softly. “I love you”

You didn’t answer, just raised your head until you could brush your lips against him. Later, you would have time to blame the cycle, which you wouldn’t get for another two months, or the emotions of the moment. But you knew it was just what you needed, what you both deserved, when you felt him kissing back.

At the beginning, it was just his lips against yours, and it was enough. Your noses brushed each other, you got on your tiptoes and his wing cocooned both of you. His hands only pressed you tighter against his body when you moved your lips against his, brushing the edge of your tongue against his bottom one.

Azriel could barely keep himself straight when you silently asked for permission to open his mouth, which he happily obliged.

From that moment, it was crashing. The kiss was only a physical proof of your feelings traveling through the mated bond, so wild and intense you couldn’t tell which one was his or yours.

“I’m sorry, darling” he whispered against your lips, giving you no time to reply. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for being a coward. I’m sorry”

“I forgive you. We don’t keep secrets anymore” you managed to say between kisses.

“Never” Azriel answered while leaving kisses on your cheeks and nose.”

“And we’ll talk about our emotions, and feelings. You’ll tell me about your life when I ask”

“Always”

“You won’t close off to me” you pulled his head away and made him look at you.

While you held his face between your hands, Azriel smiled. It was a different smile from the previous ones, from the ones you had seen so far. It was carefree, loving, and yours.

Your thumb brushed the corner of his eye, his upper cheek, the border of his nose.

“I’m here, Azriel. Always. So you don’t have to hide anything from me, or to be ashamed or afraid. I’m here” you closed the distance once more, controlling the kiss by holding onto his face. “Right around the corner”

“Right around the corner” he repeated, dipping his head and sealing all his promises with another kiss.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

Text

Coming Home (Part 6)

Azriel x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Warnings: Lil bit of spice in this part, lads 🌶️🌶️

If I’ve accidentally missed you off the tag list, please let me know so I can add you! ❤️

⧪

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d danced so much. The last time you’d laughed like this, beautiful and unguarded.

Lucien was…a riot. Exactly your kind of person, with his wicked humour forming witty remarks in your ear as he’d spun you round the dance floor, guiding you from one dance to the next. You knew you’d gained some attention for the simple fact that you hadn’t changed dance partners since you and Lucien had joined hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You’d forgotten what they were like — these parties. Lavish events that went on from dusk until dawn and sometimes beyond, the food and drinks constantly replenishing, the dancing feet of people never seeming to tire. You appreciated the lengths that Rhysand had gone to in celebrating your return; all the streamers and banners and decorations, the pure extravagance of the event that was held purely in your honour.

But at some point, some time in the early hours of the morning when the music continued unfaltered, the marvelling stares and whispers had begun to get a bit too much. Lucien had noticed the dip in your mood, your enthusiasm, straight away.

And that was what had led to the two of you sneaking out of the party together, bottles of faerie wine clutched in your hands as you left the packed throne room behind and wandered together around the Hewn City, the sheer size of it offering you at least a little bit more privacy. No one seemed to have noticed your exits.

Talking with Lucien as you strolled around was easy. You’d laughed, dipping into hidden alleys together whenever people’s gazes strayed to you, pressing yourselves against the walls and trying not to let your fit of laughter echo out as you hid. You felt like two naughty children sneaking off into forbidden places, and it was great. Light and airy and free.

“You know,” You hummed as you strolled beside the redhead, taking a long draw from the bottle in your hand. “I don’t think your mate likes me very much.”

Lucien snorted, prising the bottle from your palm and taking his own sip. “I don’t think she likes me very much, either.”

The two of you were most definitely, gloriously drunk, and perhaps that was why it was so easy to talk about things that usually clenched your heart so tightly. Through your short time alone, you’d both discussed the complex history of your families — him detailing the fraught relationship he had with his brothers, his father, and you dipping into some of the very deep, very hidden truths about your own father. About how you’d always suspected he hated you. How he’d seemed to see your lack of wings — lack of the Illyrian traits that Rhys had inherited from your mother — as a massive disappointment. It wasn’t something you liked to delve into if you could help it; Lucien seemed to make it as easy as breathing.

You hadn’t talked about Azriel, though. Yet.

“There’s truly no hope for you and Elain?” You asked softly; you couldn’t see what it was about Lucien that the middle Archeron sister could possibly have an issue with.

Stopping, Lucien leaned against the wall of a granite-hewn building and took another gulp of wine. “She can barely stand to be in the same room as me.” He swallowed. “And yet, the Shadowsinger merely breathes in her direction and it’s like he hung the moon for her. She comes alive.”

Such sad, biting bitterness in his voice. It was clear, even beneath all the wit and laughter and charm, the love he felt for his mate was a persistent wound that would never heal. You could understand that kind of pain, even if you didn’t have a mate yourself — understand the aching, gnawing feeling that rotted you from the inside while you watched the person you loved fall for somebody else.

You sucked in a deep breath, taking the bottle from him, and let your head fall back against the wall. “I get it. I’ve spent my life watching him pine for females. Firstly Mor — now Elain.” You swallowed a great gulp of the tangy wine you’d stopped tasting hours ago. “But me? Never me.”

Lucien’s gaze was a heavy weight as he turned to you, his intoxication becoming evident in the way his body slumped forward slightly, his shoulder brushing yours. “The Shadowsinger?”

“Mhm.”

“You love him?”

“Wildly.” You grimaced as the last dregs of the bottle disappeared. “Unfortunately.”

“Well.” The redhead blinked. “Fuck.”

You snorted — it was all you could do. Because if you didn’t laugh, you’d cry, and scream, and shout and—

Lucien’s laughter joined yours, an easy, drunken chortle that rumbled deep in his chest and spread infectiously. Within seconds, the reason behind your hysterics was lost. The two of you were laughing because you could, and as Lucien steadied himself against the wall, a lazy grin pulled at his lips. He leaned closer to you — close enough that your faces were inches from each other.

“We’re the rejects, aren’t we?” The breath that fanned your face as he spoke smelled of the wine’s berries, and an impulsive part of you wanted to lean forward and taste it, lick it. Lick him.

“Uhuh. Rejects.” You murmured back, leaning in. You could just feel the whisper of his lips brushing yours, begging you to close that tiny little gap. His eyes roved yours inquisitively, like he was sizing up if you had the nerve.

You did. Or, at least, you would have — would have kissed him with wild, reckless, drunken abandon — had the approaching footsteps not stopped you in your tracks.

It was a cool clipping of boots against the cobblestoned street, and the whisper of wings, that announced your interruption. The tall, dark figure rounded the corner, and Azriel stilled before you and Lucien.

“Hello.” You chirped casually.

Azriel’s eyes slid to Lucien, flicking over his stance, the close proximity between the two of you. You could have sworn a muscle in his jaw ticked.

“The party is over.” His voice was short, clipped. “Rhys sent me to find you.”

“Well.” You pushed off the wall. “Here I am.”

Azriel glanced at Lucien again. “I’d get going, if I were you. Keir has been well behaved tonight, but I doubt that courtesy will last much longer.”

For a beat, Lucien said nothing, merely staring back at the Shadowsinger like he was weighing up a snarky response. After a tense moment, he, too, pushed off the wall, and he turned to you, that gorgeous half-smirk back on his lips.

“Lady.” He addressed you with a swift, flourishing bow at the waist. “I thank you for your company this evening. Welcome back to the court.”

His exit was nothing more than a chilled autumn breeze as he disappeared before your very eyes, leaving just you and Azriel in the dark, quiet street. You weren’t even sure how far you’d wandered from the party.

“Come.” Azriel murmured, turning on his feet.

You followed.

⧪

None of you returned to your homes immediately.

With the sun beginning to rise as you landed in Velaris, it was Mor who made an executive decision to take you all for an early breakfast in one of the cafes along the Sidra.

The mood surrounding your group as you occupied a table at the back was one of calm contentment. Undoubtedly, you were all still feeling the effects of the alcohol — probably you more than anyone — but as you chatted over steaming cups of tea and warm pastries, that ever-present weight on your shoulders felt somewhat lighter than usual.

Azriel was the only one who didn’t engage.

If his presence wasn’t already so noticeable, you may have forgotten he was there, from the way he sat quietly and stared forward, barely touching his tea. You didn’t dare to stare at him for too long, lest you catch that cold, brooding gaze.

With Velaris waking around you, the members of your group began to break off. Amren was the first to go, announcing she planned to sleep for at least an entire day. Cassian practically swept Nesta off her feet and shot into the skies with barely a goodbye. Feyre and Rhys stood soon after that, and not particularly wanting to be one of the last left behind, you accepted your brother’s offer to see you home before he and the High Lady turned in themselves.

Back at your house, the silence enveloped you. You’d not long moved in, and the smell of fresh paint, of brand new furniture, had a very clinical feel about them that didn’t exactly warm you as you stood in your bedroom, peeling out of your dress. Your only saving grace was the exhaustion beginning to drag you down, hopefully enough to pull you into sleep before your loneliness crept in. Your bed was huge, the unoccupied side of it noticeably empty and cold.

After barely managing to remove your makeup and change into your nightgown, you fell between the sheets and allowed your eyes to flutter shut, memories of the evening, of your dancing and smiling and genuine laughter, comforting you enough for your breathing to slow, your eyes growing heavy.

You were just drifting off when you heard it — the dull thud outside of the glass doors that led from your bedroom, out onto the balcony.

You sat up, suddenly aware of the room darkening — of a huge figure blocking the daylight that had been streaming through in hues of pinks and buttery yellows.

Azriel stood on your balcony, his eyes meeting yours through the glass. You threw the quilt off your body, not even caring about your flimsy little nightgown as you stalked over to the doors and yanked them open.

“Do you have a particular aversion to knocking on the front door?” You snapped. “You know — like a normal person?”

Azriel stared back at you, his expression unreadable. His gaze dipped down, taking in the column of your throat. The cut of your figure through the silky material.

“We need to talk.” He said.

“You could have talked to me at breakfast.”

His eyes, suddenly deeper — heated and hungry — flicked from the peak of your breasts through your nightgown, back up to your face. “No, I couldn’t.”

A small, petty part of you, still hurt from his rejection, from the harsh words he’d spoken to you, wanted to turn him away. To slam the glass doors in his face and climb back into bed like your heart wasn’t thudding wildly.

But you didn’t have that sort of resolve. Not where Azriel was concerned.

With a soft, relenting sigh, you stepped aside, pulling both the doors wide open to accommodate the span of his wings as he entered with a graceful lope.

You watched — as he strode in, still in his clothes from the party. He stopped in the middle of your bedroom, his eyes roving over the decor, the various trinkets you owned, the painting Feyre had gifted you as a moving-in present. Slowly, with such lethal precision, he turned on his feet to face you.

“Well?” You pushed, shutting the doors behind you. The cool air certainly didn’t help with the hardened peaks of your breasts. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Lucien Vanserra is Elain’s mate.” He said.

You cocked an eyebrow. “I’m aware of that. Thank you.”

He took a step towards you. “So what were you doing with him tonight? Why did you leave the party with him?”

Studying his face, the realisation dawned on you — the direction in which his mind — and most of their minds — had probably taken when you’d wandered off with the redhead in tow. A small slither of satisfaction filled you as you read the ire in Azriel’s eyes.

You barked a laugh. “You think I fucked him?”

Azriel shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time, from what I’ve heard.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” You acknowledged with a casual shrug. “But if you had visions of me leaving the party and riding him into oblivion in the fucking centre of the Hewn City, you’re very much mistaken, Azriel.”

“Even still.” That same, telling muscle in his jaw moved. “You were being reckless. Drinking and giggling and flirting with him. Everybody knows he’s a mated male. The kind of shame, of humiliation, those actions would put on Elain—“

“So that’s why you’re here?” You cut him off. “To defend Elain’s honour?” The thought of it left you cold and reeling.

“I’m here,” He took another slow step towards you, “to advise you to stay away from Lucien.”

Folding your arms tighter, you clenched your jaw. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“He’s Elain’s mate. Elain’s.”

It was then that the fraught tether on your anger snapped. Perhaps it had been building up since your confrontation at the clinic — or perhaps since long before then. Whatever it was, that well deep inside you that you usually kept sealed, full of longing and loneliness, anger and sadness, of pure fucking love that would never be reciprocated — it spilled over.

“How many times a day do you repeat those very words to yourself, Az?” You laughed coldly. “Is that how you keep hold of your control? What you repeat to yourself over and over to stop you from sinking your cock into Elain?”

Azriel moved so fast, you barely had a chance to register the flash of darkness. You were lifted off your feet, and suddenly you were pressed against the wall, Az’s body warm and solid against yours as he glared down at you, a guttural growl ripping from the depths of his throat.

“Watch yourself, Y/N.” He bit.

You almost laughed. Because all of this — every bit of it — you found it thrilling. Seeing Azriel lose his signature cool calm, feeling the way his body pressed against yours and anger sparked off of him in little zips of lightning that snaked their way through your veins and lit you up from the inside.

He was close — so close. His heavy breathing fanned your face, and you could almost hear how hard he clenched his teeth.

“Why should I?” You said — tested him. Such a reckless, stupid game to play, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself.

Azriel’s head dipped. For a split second, you thought…you thought maybe he would kiss you. But then his nose brushed the column of your neck, the fine strands of his hair tickling your cheek.

“If it were Elain I wanted to sink my cock into,” He said, his voice a deep, vicious purr, “I could have done so long ago.”

Hell — you didn’t doubt his words. You’d seen the way Elain simpered around him, her cheeks a brilliant pink, her eyes vibrant. She liked to play the coy, sweet thing, but you imagined how thoroughly she’d give herself to Azriel if he offered.

So why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he taken the chance? Simply to keep relations with Lucien civil?

All thoughts, all potential quick-witted responses, had eddied from your mind. He’d beaten you at your own game, rendered you useless with his proximity, his scent. With his nose that continued to brush your neck, the feel of his skin against yours.

You wanted more of it. All of it. To rid yourself of all your clothes and barriers, to feel every intricate inch of him against you.

Azriel caught on to the change in your scent immediately. He stiffened against you as your legs trembled. You wondered if he’d pull away and fly out of the doors without another word — but then his forehead fell against your shoulder, pressed into it, and he emitted a soft, frustrated groan.

“…Az?” You whispered.

“Don’t move.”

You wanted to listen — really, you did. But you’d never been much good at listening or taking direction. Shaking so hard you thought you may slide out from his grip and down the wall, you shifted your body.

The tiny change in position told you precisely why he’d said what he had when the long, hard length of him pushed through his trousers, up against your stomach. You sucked in a sharp breath, the exhalation causing you to move against him.

Azriel struck.

He ripped his head up, and in one fluid dip, his mouth was on yours, pressing a forbidden, bruising kiss to your lips.

You didn’t hesitate for a second. You kissed him back — hard, passionate — the kiss you’d hoped for on the balcony on Starfall. The one you’d imagined so long before that, and so many times since.

Azriel’s hands slid to your waist, the warmth of his palms pressing through your flimsy nightgown. He was so big, towering so much over you, that he had to lift you up just to keep your mouths joined. Another gasp had your mouth opening, and he grasped the opportunity while it was there, sliding his tongue in to dance around yours.

Gods — the taste of him, the feel of him — you wished you could bottle every element of that kiss and keep it for yourself. You tangled your hands within the silken strands of his hair, tugging just hard enough for him to grunt into your mouth.

You breathed heavily against his lips, “I want you.”

“Mm. No.” He grunted — growled — again. “We can’t.”

The refusal would have stung — if he didn’t follow those two, horrid words with another searing kiss. You let go of your grip on his hair, instead fisting the material of his tunic in your hands as you yanked him closer — harder — against you. You lightly nipped at his bottom lip.

The gasp he emitted turned into another one of those low, frustrated whines that you swallowed greedily. “Why can’t I stop?”

“I don’t want you to.” You breathed, kissing him again.

He kissed you back — not the heady exchange of passion that it’d been seconds before, but a quick, chaste kiss that he didn’t allow to linger. A peck — but slightly firmer, deeper. He did it a second time, a third, and just as you were about to open up for him again, he pulled away.

You could see the rise and fall of his chest through his black shirt as he stared at you, his bruised and swollen lips slightly parted, his dark hair tousled.

His eyes swept over you. You could only imagine what he saw — how flushed you probably were all over, how visibly your legs trembled. The peak of your nipples through your nightgown — a reaction provoked solely by him.

As he stared — and stared and stared and stared — realisation began to dawn in his eyes. He blinked, as though stepping out of a trance. Touched his scarred fingers to his lips and gently pinched them, as though he couldn’t quite believe what they’d just been doing.

You knew that look — the one of regret that was rapidly emerging from the one of desire. He blinked again. Took a step back.

“Az…” You murmured, daring a single step towards him.

He shook his head. Shook himself out of his thoughts. His face looked truly shell-shocked. “I need to leave.”

The punch to your heart was palpable. “Please don’t skip out on me now.”

“I have to leave.” He said again. In stiff, stunned movements so unlike his usual grace, he stalked back over to the balcony doors.

What could you do besides watch him? Even with your heart shattering inside you, that painful sting of something being dangled in front of you, just for it to be ripped away, you couldn’t stop him from running off into the morning light. You couldn’t begin to think of how much worse you’d make things if you tried.

Az ripped the doors open once more, and he turned his body just slightly. Just to look at you once more. A frown had darkened his features.

Without a word, he stepped out, and took a huge leap off the balcony, his wings carrying him off into the distance.

Tags: @safetypinxtales @historygeekqueen @smartiepants217 @mulansaucey @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @issybee0611 @goldentournesol @percyjacksonspeen @high-bi-andreadytocry @esposadomd @positivewitch @bsenpai @cityofidek @shannonsaid @topaz125 @azzydaddy @nobody00sthings @sfhsgrad-blog @elizarikaallen @hanasakr @ruleroftides @mis-lil-red

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epochofbelief · 2 months

Text

Strictly Confidential: Chapter Five

A Modern Feysand AU

She’s a law student turned confidential informant. He’s a federal prosecutor with one goal: bringing down her boyfriend for his white collar crimes. What could go wrong?

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long everyone. Life is... insane. But it's spring break, so I finally had the time and energy to devote to this. It's kind of long, so fair warning ;) Also, I did just spend four straight hours writing and editing this so if there are typos… there are typos💓

Strictly Confidential Masterlist

My Other (Completed) Feysand AU Fic: What to Expect When You're (Not) Expecting

Chapter Five:

A week after Feyre told Azriel she would turn informant against her partner, she still hadn't heard from the FBI.

And her week only grew worse with every passing day. Her professors had hit the mid-semester stride, assigning longer and longer readings. She continued to receive invitations to networking events and all manner of schmoozing and boozing opportunities from her future firm. Various midterm writing assignments were ramping up, and she had just finished a particularly brutal round of citation checks for the Law Review legal journal on which she was a staff editor.

Her only saving grace had been Tamlin’s obvious exhaustion. He left the apartment before Feyre woke up and returned long after she fell asleep.

If it had been any other way, Feyre wasn’t sure how she would have survived the week. The thought of Tamlin touching her sent shivers down her spine and images of what Rhys’s younger sister might look like spinning through her head. Did Tamlin know about what had been done to keep his secret? How involved was he in the more violent aspects of his criminal enterprise?

The questions were endless, and yet Feyre had no one to ask. She was supposed to be the one finding answers, anyway.

And while she desired to put a stop to Tamlin's crimes, she couldn't help but find it ironic that this was just one more thing that had come to rest on her shoulders.

And the FBI didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry, Feyre thought irritably as she waved Tamlin out the door on Thursday night. He had come home early to pack a bag—once again leaving town for the weekend. On business.

Feyre let him press a kiss to his cheek, then shut the door on his back, doing her best not to slam it.

She turned and leaned against the wood, scrubbing her face with her hands. If the FBI didn’t tell her what to do soon, she would forget about the deal and break up with Tamlin. Move back in with her family. It would mean adding a job to her academic workload, but she didn’t think she would survive more than a few months in her family’s house. Nesta would freeze her out until she needed something. Elain's perpetually present boyfriend disliked Feyre for some reason. Her father wouldn’t know what to do with her.

Feyre sighed, then jumped as a knock on the door behind her head reverberated through her skull.

“Did you forget something?” She asked, flinging open the door, expecting to find a harried-looking Tamlin on the other side.

Instead, she came face-to-face with Rhysand, a stunning blonde woman next to him.

“Oh,” Feyre squeaked.

Rhysand grimaced at her, dressed once again in all-black suit, tailored perfectly to his muscular body. Though he looked more casual than Feyre had ever seen him—his usual black tie was missing, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. Feyre swallowed, averting her eyes from his tanned upper chest and violet eyes, instead surveying the blonde.

The woman was also clad in all-black, her blazer buttoned around a narrow waist, a short pencil skirt emphasizing long, tanned legs. Her blonde hair cascaded over both shoulders, and her lips, coated in a bright red lipstick, tugged into a smile.

Perhaps this was Rhys’s partner? Feyre’s eyes snapped back to Rhys’s at the thought, as if she would find the answer there.

“As much as I would love to stand here and watch you two stare at each other, the hall is a little exposed. May we come in, Feyre?” The blonde asked, brushing past Feyre without waiting for an answer, disappearing into the apartment behind her.

“You came,” Feyre breathed.

Rhys cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry it took so long.”

“Would you two get the hell in here?” The woman’s voice sounded from behind Feyre.

Rhys grimaced again, gesturing for Feyre to lead the way into the apartment. “Please excuse my cousin, Morrigan Underwood. She’s one of the best the FBI has to offer, but most days she’s just a pain in my…” Rhys trailed off, and Feyre couldn’t help but grin as Morrigan extended a manicured hand toward her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Feyre,” Morrigan said, smiling warmly down at her. Morrigan was tall, and the heels only added to her height. Next to the beautiful FBI agent, Feyre felt short and grubby in her socked feet next and oversized t-shirt. “Sorry to barge in on you. We got lucky tonight—video cameras are down. So we thought we would come to you.”

“Just luck?” Feyre asked, folding her arms and leaning against the kitchen island.

Morrigan and Rhys exchanged a glance. “Luck with a little help from Azriel,” Morrigan admitted, shrugging.

Gods, they really were the FBI, Feyre thought, walking around the kitchen island and opening the fridge. “Can I offer either of you—a water? Or something else?”

“We don’t want to trouble you,” Rhys said, at exactly the same moment Morrigan said, “Absolutely. Tamlin took forever to leave, and even though someone knew there would be a stake-out, he didn't think to stock refreshments in his car.” Her brown eyes cut to Rhys.

“Mor,” Rhys groaned.

Feyre smiled to herself as she retrieved three bottles of sparkling water from the fridge and returned to the living room, sitting in the armchair across from the couch where Rhys and Mor had seated themselves.

“Nice place,” Mor commented, her eyes scanning the room appreciatively. “Very . . . minimalist.”

Feyre shrugged. “It’s not exactly to my tastes, but thank you.”

Feyre ignored Mor’s cocked eyebrow and the crease that formed between Rhys’s eyebrows at her words. She cleared her throat. “So. Care to share why you’re here?”

Mor popped the top off her water and sank back into the plush white couch, lifting the drink toward Rhys. “You’re up, cousin.”

Rhys leaned forward on the couch, his own water forgotten on the sleek coffee table in front of him. Feyre couldn’t figure out where to look as she waited for him to speak. His large hands, clasped in front of him. The sliver of exposed skin just below his neck. Those violet eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul.

She settled for his forehead as Rhys began to speak. “You took a risk last week, going into Spring Solutions without backup. If something had happened to you in there, we would have had no way of knowing.”

Feyre folded her arms. “I thought you wanted me to gather information for you. How am I supposed to do that if I can’t go anywhere without an escort?”

“Backup doesn’t necessarily mean an escort.”

-----

Two hours later, Feyre’s mind was about to explode with all the information Rhys and Mor had drilled into her head. They had provided her with a wire, an earpiece that she could hear and speak to them through, an exhaustive explanation of how dangerous being an informant was, and a briefing on proper reporting and contacting methods she would have to engage in when reaching out to the FBI.

She drew the line at the bulletproof vest Mor retrieved from her bag.

“Where am I supposed to hide that?” Feyre demanded. “The tech is enough.”

Mor and Rhys exchanged a glance. “Feyre…” Rhys trailed off, his eyes searching her face.

“You make me take that and this whole thing is over before it began.”

Rhys held up his hands. “Alright. But if you dream up any more ridiculous plans to go into the heart of enemy territory, you contact us first. We’ll get it to you.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. She didn’t envision herself getting shot any time soon.

“Lastly,” Mor said. “Here’s the address of our future meeting place.” She handed Feyre a scrap of paper. “Memorize it and then destroy it. You can get there by train, so transport isn’t a problem. You’ll have to switch trains about halfway there, but that’s your opportunity to determine if you’re being followed. If you have any suspicion whatsoever that someone is on your tail, do not go to the safe house. Just board a train back in the direction of the city.”

Feyre looked down at the address. “How often will we be meeting?”

“Only as often as necessary. You let us know through that earpiece and we’ll arrange it. Best not to create any new strange habits that people might notice. Memorize.”

Feyre nodded, swallowing the sudden wave of anxiety cresting through her. She was truly doing this. Working for the FBI. Attempting to inifiltrate a strange and possibly deadly organization. Betraying her boyfriend—the man who had fed her and housed her for the better part of her law school experience.

Mor cleared her throat, glancing at her watch. “I’ve got a meeting. Finish up here, Rhys?”

Rhys nodded, clapping his cousin on the shoulder as she stood, extending her hand once more to Feyre. “Good luck, Feyre. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again very soon.” Feyre nodded, and Mor paused, her manicured hand squeezing Feyre’s. “Do try not to get caught.”

Then she was gone.

Leaving Feyre and Rhysand alone in the enormous, stark apartment.

“Is there much more?” Feyre asked, forcing herself to keep her arms at her sides rather than swinging them in the awkward silence.

“No, but—” Rhys halted midsentence as Feyre slumped into the enormous white armchair next to the window, relieved to hear those words coming from Rhys’s mouth. She honestly hadn’t been sure if she could take much more.

Her entire relationship was a lie—everything was a lie. She had trusted Tamlin with her safety. With her nights and days and most of the time in between. He had given her a place to stay after years spent under her family’s influence.

And yet.

“He’s been lying to me,” Feyre muttered, more to herself than Rhysand, who had leaned closer to her as her thoughts spiraled deeper and deeper. “This whole time.”

Her eyes drifted down from the ceiling, locking instead with Rhys’s blue eyes, drinking her in from his position on the couch.

“I never knew,” she said softly. “I never even suspected. You must think I’m some kind of idiot.”

A muscle fluttered in Rhys’s jaw, and he shook his head, one hand extending toward her as if to rest it on her knee. But he thought better of it, instead clasping his hands between his knees. “On the contrary. I’ve spent a year investigating Tamlin and he's slipped through my fingers every time. It’s no surprise you never knew."

Feyre bent over her knees, hands covering her face. “How long will it take?”

Rhys cleared his throat, thankfully understanding her meaning. “It depends. The more and better information we get, the easier it will be to charge him.”

When Feyre didn’t respond, Rhys continued.

“But if you want out, Feyre, say the word. We—I—would never dream of forcing you to stay in this relationship just for our purposes. There would be no hard feelings if you changed your mind.”

Feyre’s hands slid from her face, and she returned Rhys’s stare with one of her own. “No.”

“No?”

“I want to do this. I have to do this. If what you say is true, Tamlin is the reason your sister—and who knows how many others who knew too much—are gone. I can’t stand by and watch that happen. Can’t leave him knowing about the horrible things he is causing, or at least sanctioning.”

She could have sworn a glimmer of pride shone in Rhys’s eyes as he surveyed her. And despite everything, despite the loss of his sister and the investigation and the potential threat to Feyre’s life, he smiled.

“Then let’s bring that bastard down.”

Feyre couldn’t resist the grin she shot back.

-----

A week later, some of that excitement had died down. Tamlin had been at work around the clock, busy with various “projects” as he described them to Feyre. However, he had revealed that his next out-of-town venture would take place in late October—just a few weeks away. And Feyre was determined to discover the destination. So in addition to her studies and checking in every so often with the FBI through her earpiece, she spent the wee hours of the morning combing through Tamlin's computer in secret, digging through his bags and looking through his phone for anything that might reveal his future plans.

She continued to come up empty-handed.

But she didn't intend to give up, even though her exhaustion grew worse with every passing day. Feyre resolved to take a break from her sleuthing that night as she walked to another networking event, this one just a few blocks from her apartment.

She arrived in her best black suit, pencil skirt just brushing the tops of her knees, black tights beneath warding off the crisp fall air. She had spent extra time on her hair that evening—adding a little extra dry shampoo, teasing the golden-brown strands into a gentle curl at the ends. She even went so far as to add an extra layer of mascara before she came to her senses.

There was only one reason Feyre was putting in this extra effort, despite the minuscule chance that the reason would even be present at the mixer.

United States Attorneys surely had better things to do than attend every attorney/law-student networking event in the city.

And besides. Feyre was still unavailable, even if Tamlin had barely laid a finger on her the past few weeks, as busy and stressed with work as they both had been. Even if in her mind, her relationship with Tamlin had long since come to a crashing halt.

So she had resisted the urge to dab on some blush before she rushed out the door, tying her black overcoat around her waist as she rode the elevator to the lobby. Just a half hour later, she found herself engaged in a spectacularly dull conversation with a pair of junior associates from one of the other firms in Prythian. Feyre had forgotten their names almost as soon as she had heard them, distracted as she was with thoughts of her mission for Rhys—with thoughts of whether Rhys might be present tonight.

“Do you have plans to pursue partnership?” One of the attorneys—a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and brown eyes—inquired, taking another sip of her mixed drink. The woman was tipsy, but quite adept at hiding it. If Feyre hadn’t spent years observing her older sister Nesta’s drinking habits, she might not have noticed.

Unfortunately, the woman was staring at Feyre so intently that Feyre decided she would be forced to answer the question. Feyre’s mind raced, and she genuinely wondered whether saying, “I don’t know—nor do I much care at this point,” might be disadvantageous to her career. If it might get back to Hybern & Night.

But then she felt a hand at her elbow, a warm male body sidling up next to her, the scent of citrus and the sea washing over her in a wave.

“Feyre, darling. You’ve been avoiding me. My father insisted I meet his firm’s future associate.”

Feyre bit back her smile as she turned her attention from the attorneys in front of her to the man who had just stepped up to her elbow. Blue-black hair slightly tousled, as if he had just run his fingers through it. Violet eyes dancing with mirth. Black-on-black suit only emphasizing his imposing figure.

“I didn’t realize we were engaged in a game of hide-and-seek,” Feyre said. “Will you excuse me, ladies? It was wonderful to meet you both.”

And she allowed Rhys to whisk her away, through the crowded ballroom where the event was being held and up a set of stairs, where he pulled her out to a small balcony overlooking one of Prythian’s many parks to the rear of the building.

“That’s twice now,” Rhys noted, releasing Feyre’s elbow only when she leaned against the railing, her own elbows resting against the cool metal.

“Twice what?”

“That I’ve saved you from the vultures. However will you repay me?” Rhys asked, leaning onto the railing next to her.

“I’ll think of something,” Feyre said quietly, raising her eybrows.

“How are you holding up?” Rhys asked.

Feyre blinked. She had expected him to press her for details on Tamlin’s movements, or perhaps encourage her to try just a little harder to get him something, anything he could use to find justice for his little sister.

“I’m—fine,” she said haltingly. “Tamlin has another trip in two weeks, but you already know that. He’s…resistant to the idea of me hanging around Spring Solutions. Keeps insisting it’s going to interfere with my studies.”

Rhys sighed, shifting on his feet. Feyre tried to ignore how the motion brought his arm closer to hers, so close she could feel the heat of his body soaking into hers. “He may be an insufferable bastard, but the man is cautious.”

Feyre tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her wince at the words “insufferable bastard.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhys said, once again surprising Feyre at how adeptly he said the right thing, how flawlessly he interpreted her mannerisms and expressions. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

But Feyre shook her head. “You have every right, Rhysand. After what he did to your sister…”

Rhys let out a long sigh. Feyre echoed him a moment later.

"You called them vultures," Feyre said after several silent moments passed.

"And?"

"Why did you become an attorney if—if you find most of those people in there as abhorrent as I do?"

Rhys shrugged, the movement causing his shoulder to brush against Feyre's. "I come from a very long line of attorneys. In a way, it was the only future I ever really considered for myself. Even though I hated the way my father's work kept him so busy, how he constantly chose his billable hours over his family. I knew he never had any passion for the law he practiced. He merely craved the money, and the prestige, and the reputation."

Feyre turned to observe Rhys, studying the side of his face as he gazed out over the park.

"But I think watching all that made me want to be a different kind of attorney. Someone who cares about the people I'm representing, the cases I'm bringing. And a career as a prosecutor seemed like a good place to start—at least for now.” Rhys paused, as if weighing whether to say what he said next. “I'm not sure if it's made me any better than my father."

"For what it's worth, Rhys, I don't consider you a vulture."

Rhys met her eyes then, his face so open, so vulnerable, for one brief moment. "Likewise," he said quietly.

Feyre grimaced, choosing not to argue with him. Even though she was the one chasing the money that came with a big law job. Even though everything Rhys had said could very well describe her situation exactly.

“You want to get out of here?” Rhys said suddenly.

Feyre turned to look at him. “And do… what?”

“Take a walk. Grab a drink. Do anything other than talk to those insufferable sycophants prowling around that ballroom.”

Feyre swallowed, and before she could talk herself out of it, she heard herself saying, “Let’s go.”

An hour later, Feyre was two glasses of wine deep, laughing at something Rhys said to the strangers they had befriended at the bar a few blocks from the networking event. She hadn't had this much fun in—in a very long time. She couldn't remember the last time she went out with her friends on a whim, talking about everything and nothing, without discussing law school or work or anything serious.

But Rhys was fun. And Feyre was enjoying herself immensely. She even felt a little sad when Rhys paid the tab over her protests, insisting that he remembered all too well the weight of law school loans, before he ushered her out of the bar.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said as they emerged into the dark streets of Prythian.

“You don’t have to do that,” Feyre said.

“It’s dark and we’re downtown.”

Feyre bit her lip, but nodded in assent, turning right to lead Rhys in the direction of her apartment. They made it all of five steps before Rhys's phone rang.

"Sorry," he mouthed at Feyre, answering the call and guiding her over to the edge of the sidewalk.

"Night speaking," he said quietly, leaning against the wall.

Feyre leaned next to him, grateful for the buzz of the alcohol keeping her warm and relaxed as she waited. Grateful that it kept her from thinking too hard about the fact that she had just gone out with drinks. With Rhysand. Alone.

But the languid peace coursing through Feyre's veins evaporated when Rhys stiffened next to her.

"Who is this?" Rhys bit out.

Feyre shivered at the ice in his tone.

"Tell me who you are," Rhys growled, even as he seized Feyre's elbow and tugged her down an alley to their right, pushing her against the wall and crowding close, as if he could shield her very existence from the world around them.

"Who is this?" Rhys demanded once more.

Who the hell was on the other end of that phone call?

"Fuck!" Rhys exclaimed, the phone going dark in his hand as whoever he had been speaking to hung up.

"Who was it?" Feyre whispered.

"I don't know. They wouldn't tell me."

"What did they say?"

Feyre felt the blood drain from her face as Rhys explained.

"We have to go," Feyre said, hands coming up to push at Rhys's chest.

"No. I have to get you home. I'm calling Cassian. He'll handle it." Rhys unlocked his phone, fingers flying across the screen.

Feyre gritted her teeth. "We're two blocks away. I'll be fine. Let's just go."

And before Rhys could argue, she took off down the alleyway, jaw set.

They made it to the alley in less than five minutes, Feyre skidding to a halt at its mouth. Rhys had just hung up with Cassian, whom he had told to meet them there as quickly as possible. Feyre made to plunge into the dark alley, but Rhys grabbed her arm, shaking his head. "Stay behind me," he insisted, moving in front of and stalking slowly down the alley.

They were halfway through the space when Feyre caught sight of what looked like a pile of rags or fabric slumped against the alley wall about twenty feet in front of them.

Only, they weren’t rags, Feyre realized, watching the dark lump on the alley floor shift as Rhys approached.

It was a person—a man—laying on his side, head facing away from them, legs tangled together.

Azriel.

Feyre dropped to her knees next to the agent, the two glasses of wine she had drank earlier now threatening to come up when she beheld the state Azriel was in.

Two black eyes were already forming, his eyes so swollen they were mere slits in his red, black and blue face. Dried blood crusted the skin under his nose and continued all the way down his chin.

Feyre rested an arm on Azriel's shoulder, praying the agent wasn't bruised there as well.

“Azriel,” she breathed.

To her surprise, the agent chuckled. “Believe me, Feyre,” he grunted, his raspy voice echoing slightly in the alley around them. “I’ve had worse.”

Feyre bit her lip as Rhys brushed a hand lightly over her shoulder before joining her on the ground before Azriel.

"How long?" Rhys asked.

"Half hour," Azriel rasped, a series of hacking coughs interrupting him before he could continue. "Maybe longer."

Feyre saw the shadow of rage that passed across Rhys's face as he realized how long Azriel’s attackers had waited to call him. But he didn't verbalize it, instead murmuring, “Let’s get you up, friend." He gripped Azriel’s shoulders and pulling him into a seated position. A shaft of moonlight illuminated the agent, allowing Feyre to more fully appreciate just how battered his face was.

“Gods,” Feyre breathed, following Rhys’s lead and ducking under one of Azriel’s arms.

“It was Spring,” Azriel said quietly, once they had managed to drag him halfway down the alley.

Feyre sensed, rather than saw, Rhys stiffen at the words.

“How do you know?” Feyre asked quietly.

Azriel coughed, spitting a wad of blood onto the alley floor in front of them. “They jumped me,” he said. “Took my gun, then a few of them held me down so they could take turns hitting me. I couldn’t do anything but let them—let them—” He broke off. “Then they dumped me and said they would send someone to retrieve me. I didn't know if that meant someone to finish the job, or help. The only other thing they said, the whole time, was right before one of them stomped on my head: 'Stay the hell away from Spring Solutions. Or else.' I was out cold after that. I think."

A chill ran down Feyre’s spine.

What did or else mean?

None of them spoke another word as Rhys guided them to the mouth of the alley, where a black car awaited. Rhys ripped open the door, revealing a tense-looking Mor in the backseat. She beckoned, taking Azriel from Rhys and Feyre.

Rhys got into the front seat, and Feyre climbed into the back with Az and Mor.

"Gods above," Mor breathed, surveying the damage done to Azriel's face. "What happened?"

Rhys explained as Cassian drove them quickly away from the alley, winding through the dark streets of downtown Prythian.

"Do you think they know?" Mor asked. "About Feyre?"

Rhys shook his head. "No. It was just a coincidence that she was with me at the time."

"They're getting more confident," Cassian noted, pulling his car to a stop in a darkened side street.

It took Feyre a moment to recognize where they were.

"I'll walk you to the building," Rhys said, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car.

“What?” Feyre demanded, mouth falling open as her eyes found Mor's. "I can't go up there knowing—knowing." She broke off, unable to finish her thought. How could she return to her apartment after people from Tamlin's company had just beat Azriel into a bloody pulp just to make a statement?

"Please, Feyre. We need to get Azriel medical care, and the longer you're with us, the greater the chance your cover is blown," Mor pleaded, one manicured hand brushing back Azriel's silky black hair.

"I want to help," Feyre said quietly as Rhys opened the car door next to her.

"You are helping. You already have helped," Rhys said, reaching inside the car to unbuckle Feyre's seat belt. "We need to keep you in a position where you can help."

Feyre swallowed, and let Rhys coax her from the car.

"I'll call you to let you know how he's doing," Mor offered as Rhys shut the door.

Rhys was quiet as he escorted Feyre to the side entrance of her building. "Use that earpiece as soon as you get upstairs. Let us know you go to your apartment safely. Okay?"

"And what if my cover is blown?" Feyre asked.

"If we don't hear from you in ten minutes, I'll come bursting into that apartment myself. They wouldn’t waste time on Azriel if they found out about you.”

Feyre repressed a shudder at the implication in those words: That if Tamlin’s people discovered her treachery, they would come straight for her rather than risk her retreating to the FBI before they could silence her.

Feyre gritted her teeth, lingering in the open doorway.

"Please, Feyre. We have to get Azriel help."

There were so many things Feyre wanted to say, things that the attack on Azriel now made impossible. Had it really been less than an hour since she and Rhys had sat in that bar, laughing and talking without a care in the world?

But Feyre said nothing, instead letting the glass door swing shut between her and Rhys. And since she knew Rhys wouldn't turn to leave until she did, Feyre trudged up the stairs, fighting the urge to turn back for a last glimpse of the attorney watching her.

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