#thank you for giving us gwyn

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Thirteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Canon typical violence. A walk through Velaris turns for the worse and the secrets of The Book are finally revealed...

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It would seem I was wrong. It does not take much for Bethsevah Mordeigh to turn. 

I should be ashamed, but the more often Thanatos keeps coming back, the more I come to like him. Make no mistake, he’s as dangerous and volatile as a starving animal, but compared to his siblings he’s a saint. 

I saw him kill a male yesterday. One who stumbled upon our hidden ceremony and threatened to come back with Koschei’s army and crush us and the Mother beneath his boot. 

But with a snap of Thanatos’s fingers the nameless fae was gone. Gone in a gust of red wind that smelled and tasted like metal. And Thanatos looked stronger for it. His pale skin stopped being so translucent. His hair looked a touch darker, so dark it swallowed all light. A piece cut away from the fabric of the world. 

Death is his food. Him and his siblings feed on it and crave it like nothing else. 

Except for me. 

Thanatos says he craves me. And I think I believe him. I think I’m beginning to crave him too. 

Gwyn froze when the mountain’s door slid back. Azriel stood outside Cagniv Library with a bouquet of salt-white water lilies clutched in one hand and pale blue tulips in the other. 

“Azriel,” you smiled brightly, the last word you’d meant to speak to Gwyn dying on your lips. “What’re you doing here?”

The midday sun beat down on the face of the mountain, shortening the shadows around your feet. 

“I was coming from the House of Wind and was hoping you’d take a long walk home with me. These are for you.” He held out the tulips. “And for you.” He held out the lilies for Gwyn, which she accepted after a brief moment of hesitance. 

Azriel looked… lighter. His shadows were stronger than ever, clinging to his body like a second scent, but his eyes held a fondness and love for you that Gwyn had never seen before. Not when he was looking at Mor, not when he was looking at Elain… not when he was looking at her. It was so obvious to Gwyn’s eyes, she was amazed you hadn’t caught on yet. You just looked at the flowers with a touch of color flooding your cheeks. Bashful and uncertain of how to accept such a gift. 

“Thank you.” You touched the velvety petals between your fingers as though they might crumble if you weren’t gentle. 

“Yes. Thank you.” 

Azriel looked at Gwyn, that small smile of his faltering and then growing once more when Gwyn nodded her head. It was a silent acknowledgement. A quiet understanding that didn’t completely escape your notice. 

I’m not happy with you. Gwyn’s eyes spoke. But I understand. Her teal eyes flashed protectively. Don’t fuck this up.

“I assume I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?” Gwyn smirked at you and nudged her shoulder with your own, feeling the soft give of her skin and the strength in her arms. 

“Where else would I be?”

“At home. Sleeping.”

“Pffft. Sleep is for the weak.” 

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like Az. Now shoo.” Gwyn waved you off, watching as you took the arm that Azriel offered and made your way down the smooth steps of the mountain back to the city. 

You bowed your heads together, lips barely moving and cutting out two dark silhouettes in the air. Azriel must have said something funny because your gentle laugh carried itself on the wind, weaving into the air like silver thread. Gwyn couldn’t help but smile at you. 

If she knew what was about to happen, she would have never let you leave the library. 

“They’re in love.” 

Azriel looked sideways at you, catching the sweet scent of your hair as you leaned against him. The Palace of Hoof and Leaf buzzed with quiet energy, the air tinged with the scent of sugar from the confectionary booths. 

“Who?”

“Beth and Thanatos.” 

The book rocked against your hip, matching the beat of you and Azriel’s steps as you walked through the cobblestone marketplace. Lanterns hung unlit from the arches above, bobbing on wire like the bubbles that a pair of hawk-winged children were blowing from the steps of a peach-stone apartment. The girl, blue-eyed and red-haired, nudged the boy, pointing at the Shadowsinger with something like awe. Azriel offered them a faint smile and a few tendrils of his shadows licked at their feet as they scampered away with laughter. It was just a game to them after all. 

“I didn’t think he was capable of love,” Azriel noted. He thought back to the memories you’d unearthed with your powers and of the violent ways Thanatos had inched his way into Beth’s life. Wherever he lingered, death followed. But so far as you knew, he was also incredibly protective of Beth and the other priestesses. They’d benefited from his presence even if they were unnerved by it. He’d kept them hidden from Koschei.

“Beth didn’t think so either.” You flinched when one of the marketplace hawkers held his hand out to you. He didn’t shout like the others and seemed grieved when you stepped back into the folds of Azriel’s wings. He opened his sticky fist palm up to the sky revealing a handful of neat caramel candies wrapped in wax paper. 

“For the miss.” 

Y/n looked at Azriel, who only nodded with a smile.

“Thank you.” You gingerly took them from him, taking a moment to admire the light brown of the confectioner’s eyes, like burnt sugar, and the wisps of candy floss clinging to his shirt like loose threads. 

He didn’t resume his shouting until you were a good distance away, deep voice bellowing out over the square that his wares were made fresh that morning. You unwrapped one of the candies and stuck it in your mouth, sighing as it turned around on your tongue, slowly melting. Azriel took one of the candies you offered, but tucked it into his pocket when you turned your head to inspect the baskets of spices laid out on the sidewall.

“But he keeps staying with her. Keeps warning her of Koschei’s movements so she and her fellow priestesses can stay hidden. He… he cares for her. Or at least Beth seems to think so. The information — the story — is more pleasant than I could have hoped for, and I’m eternally grateful she doesn’t go in depth about their activities—” 

Azriel chuckled. “So it’s not like one of Nesta’s books.”

“Thank the Mother no. But it doesn’t get us any closer to finding out how to defeat Koschei. She doesn’t even talk about Koschei or the priestesses much. Only Thanatos. It’s just a love story.”

“Love stories are never just that though. They’re probably the most powerful things in the universe. Look at Rhysand and Feyre. Cassian and Nesta. I don’t think we’d be where we are now if not for their love for one another. The things they were willing to do to protect what they cared about.” 

“Do you ever wish you had that?” You dared to ask. “That kind of love? A mate?” Azriel turned to look at you, eyes filled with more cryptic meaning than you could ever imagine unraveling. There was hope, longing, grief, and a slew of other emotions. Their weight seemed to press in on you, but you didn’t feel overwhelmed. 

“All the time,” he whispered. Then he smiled, staring down at where your arm was linked to his. “Do you?” 

You turned away almost bitterly. “I don’t know what I’d do with that kind of love. If I’d be able to handle it. It might be too much for me.”

“I would disagree.” 

You couldn’t find the words to respond, so you settled on silence. Luckily for you, silence with Azriel never felt uncomfortable. 

“If your shadows keep taking them, I’m going to forget how many I’ve selected.”

“I see no problem with this,” Azriel shrugged and continued to follow you around the bookshop. It had stuck out to you immediately on your long walk back to the River House. A squat, two-story townhouse with charmingly chipped white paint laid over sturdy brick and sage green shutters. Candles winked in the afternoon light pressed up against window sills where two fat ginger cats lay purring in the sun. The dark, woodsy interior dripped with books, leather notebooks, and automatic writing pens that hovered over thick pages like butterflies. “We have space in the house.” 

“It’s less about space and more about how much I’ve spent.” Your fingers brushed the next book on the shelf and its deep purple binding. 

Oh that one’s interesting — a romance between a Spring Court nymph and a Dundarian knife maker filled with adventure, lust, longing, and found family. 

You’d no sooner plucked it from the shelf before shadows crowded your hands, whisking it off to whatever ether Azriel kept them hidden in. He wrote the name of the book on a sheaf of paper, his handwriting neat and simple. 

You turned on him, arms folded over your chest. “You can’t keep doing that.” 

“You are not to spend a copper of your own money here. Rhysand and Feyre’s orders. Just put it on the House’s credit. Rhysand’s already added you.” 

“They put me on their credit?” You balked even thinking about the money you’d been given access to.

Azriel nodded. “Consider it repayment.”

“Repayment for what? I haven’t done anything.”

Azriel looked at you quietly, as if the answer were obvious. “You’re the reason I still have a sister-in-law and a niece. You’re the reason we now have a name to investigate and are one step closer to defeating Koschei. You’re the reason the Godswoods and the Gallows haven’t been stolen from yet and a number of Librarians still have their lives. Do I need to continue?”

You thought through what he said. It was true that Helion’s intervention in the Godswoods and the Gallows had been effective. No deaths had been reported since then, but it didn’t make you feel any safer. A snake was still a snake, even when camouflaged.

“Only two of those things matter to the Night Court. Helion owes me for the latter.” 

“Then you can have him contact the banks and transfer the sums.” Azriel’s eyes twinkled with mischie. You went to snatch the paper out of his hands, but all he had to do was raise his arm to the ceiling, a smile tugging at his lips. You jumped up, one hand firm on his shoulder for leverage, but it was no use. He was too damned tall. 

You stood on the tips of your toes to get closer to eye level with Azriel. His eyes flickered down to your lips, the shapes they made as you quietly said, “Thank you.” 

You lingered in the stacks for a few moments longer, nervously asked the shop owner to put the list of books on the High Lord and High Lady’s tab — which she did with a warm smile — and then made your way back outside. The bell hanging above the doorway jingled happily, the wood burned sign saying Come back soon! Love, Jessebell. 

You trailed ahead of him down the street. Every sign, every shop window display, every street sign — you drank them in like you were ravenous. 

Azriel felt Rhys’s presence drift in the outskirts of his mind, and without hesitation, he let him in. 

Where are you? What’s taking so long?

Nearly to the Sidra. I brought her to Jessebell’s. 

That explains your lateness. Rhys paused. She must have loved that. 

Azriel smiled inwardly. She did. She really did.  

A female with weathered, dark skin and flowers sprouting from her ears stopped you on the street and although your first instinct was to recoil, you relaxed when she only lifted up a deep black tulip in her textured hands. The wilting flower straightened up when you kissed one of the petals as instructed and the gentle laugh that followed had Azriel’s heart soaring. 

Well make sure you get here in time for dinner. I want as many of our family members under my roof as possible.

Is this an ask, or a command?

Don’t make me use my High Lord voice on you.

Azriel rolled his eyes with a smile. I am absolutely trembling. Do you use that tone of voice on Nyx? 

He felt as much as heard Rhys’s laughter. Enjoy your time with Y/n, but come back soon. Mor is looking to get her hands on your mate. Mother help us all.

Rhys cut the connection and Azriel was free to admire you once more. 

You cradled the bouquet he’d given you in your arms, light reflecting off the petals and casting a faint blue glow on your face as you chatted with the florist. Your smile, which had started out forced and nervous, was slipping into something more relaxed. When the female laughed merrily and touched your wrist, you didn’t flinch. 

Dark tendrils of night curled around his ears and Azriel felt a shiver trail down his spine. 

Behind you. His shadows whispered. The boy needs help. There’s something wrong with him.

The boy startled back when Azriel turned towards him, tripping over a nick in the cobblestones and landing with a wince on his palms. Glassy pale eyes stared up, wide and terrified. His clothes were rumpled and unkempt and his white-blond hair was a mess of curls flecked with grey, like he’d been rolling around in dust. Pale pink and blue veins rose to the surface of his green-tinged skin, sickly and unnerving. He looked like a corpse on puppet strings.

Azriel looked around, but no one was searching for the little boy. No yelps belonging to scared parents. No calls from a sibling. 

“Shadowsinger, sir?” Even his voice sounded sickly, like his vocal chords were disintegrating in his throat. 

Azriel immediately dropped to his knees and slid his hands behind his back. “What’s happened, little one? What’s wrong?” His voice was smooth and gentle. 

He was too busy thinking that his boy was younger than Nyx, too busy ordering his shadows out to search for the boy’s parents that he didn’t think twice about the lingering stench of blood clinging to the boy’s shoes or the faint pain beginning to grow behind his hazel eyes. 

The boy looked around furtively while wringing his grubby hands, and then leaned close to whisper in Azriel’s ear. His pale eyes narrowed in concentration.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a black tulip before.” 

“It’s a little secret of mine. You need to get the seed and soil just right.” The female brushed her waist length hair over her shoulder. The knotted strands had the thick, coarse texture of seafarer’s rope, as aged and wise as the rest of her. When you held the flower back out for her to take she shook her head. 

“For you, my dear. I have dozens more and I think it would attract more business if you wore it around today. A beautiful creature like you must get lots of attention.” 

You knew she was probably just saying these things to get your business, but you couldn’t help the spark of joy the compliments gave you. She helped tuck the flower into the braids of your hair and you felt the petals kiss the tips of your left ear. 

“Say.” The female leaned in like she was about to share a secret. “If you aren’t already taken, I have a niece who’d love to have a pretty girl like you on her arm.” 

Your blush deepened and you found yourself stammering, “That’s very kind, but I don't-I don’t-'' You glanced up the street. Azriel was kneeling on the ground, head bent down to a small child. You only caught the wisps of white, candy floss hair over Azriel’s broad shoulders. 

The female traced the path of your gaze and sighed. “Ahhhhh. I see.” There was a triumphant look in her eyes, even as she said, “Shame. But I’ll still give you my niece’s name if you don’t mind.” 

Your eyes snapped away from Azriel’s and you smiled in embarrassment. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Henna.” 

You stepped back. Panic froze the blood in your veins and you felt pinpricks traveling up your body, stabbing your heart and your mind. You could see her now. Her silver hair fanned out around her. Her broken body. Her bloodied eye socket, dark and empty. 

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” You had to have heard her incorrectly. Your head was pounding but you pushed back on your mental wards, shoring up your defenses until the feeling passed.

The female tilted her head to the side. Her eyes were as milky and glassy as pearls. “Does the name mean anything to you, dear?” 

You took another step back and the female stepped forward. Her eyes seemed to clear then and her brows furrowed in concentration and pain. She lunged forward, tearing away at your clothes and knocking the flowers of your hands as she begged. “Help me. The boy. He’s inside—HELP ME!” 

You surged back, crumpling to the ground under her heavy weight as she continued to pull and claw. 

She’d been restocking the back room when the dirty little boy and the tailor showed up in the alleyway. He still carried that bolt of fabric under the crook of his arm. He took out a knife, orange eyes flashing and slit his throat from ear to ear while the little boy watched. Smiling.

“LET GO!” You kicked out, ramming your knee up and into the soft flesh of her stomach like you’d seen Emerie do to Cassian, but you lacked her strength and technique. The female wheezed but didn’t let go, even as others came to try and pry her off of you. Their voices were frantic, trying to calm you down, but they were the voices and hands of strangers. 

“AZ!” You screamed, feeling the female sink her nails into your arm.

There was an ugly tearing sound and the cool touch of wind at your chest. Your robes were ripped apart under her rough hands and her eyes narrowed in on your belt and the chain that connected to the book. She bucked off a cherub-faced female with a blow to her nose and blood splashed over your cheek. 

“Help me. Please. Oh… oh gods.” She grabbed at the book, but the chain glowed iron hot in her hands. The smell of burning scorched your nose as the magic did what it was meant to do. Nothing could break that chain. Not unless you willed it. Not while you were still alive. 

“Oh gods. Oh gods help me. I’m so sorry.” There were tears streaming down her face, tracing the canyons and valleys of her skin. She threw off the fae clamoring around you both and ran with jerky, uncoordinated leaps back into her flower shop. She snatched the gardening shears off the windowsill where she’d been trimming her hydrangea bushes. She wept and shook her head, mouth struggling to open and scream as she held the shears up high and then drove them into her neck.

The scene took a long time to filter through the haze of panic and disbelief. 

“Az… Az… Az—AZRIEL!” Your shrill scream pierced through the air. You scrambled away from everyone. Stones shaved away the skin of your knees, your palms. The tattered silk of your robes trailed behind you. “Don’t touch me!” You shrieked at the male who tried grabbing your arm, soft voice whispering. 

He wasn’t the one you wanted. 

“AZRIEL!” 

The female dropped to her knees, hands clutching her throat as blood poured out in bubbly, gurgling spurts. The candy pink strips of her apron turned a wet, sticky black as she crawled back towards the door.

“Oh gods… Please,” she wheezed, wet and agonized, before collapsing face down on the floor. Motionless. 

You staggered to your feet twisting away from everyone crowding around you. 

“Don’t touch me. Don’t!” 

“Miss you must sit. Please—”

“Let me help—” 

“Are you hurt? What’s—” 

“Don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!” 

Screams. The sound of doors slamming shut. Locks turning. Commanding barks calling for a healer. Calling for the High Lord and the High Lady. Calling for the Shadowsinger to help.

Azriel was still kneeling in front of that boy and no matter how many times you called his name and pushed through the crowd of people now rushing up and down the streets in a frenzy, he didn’t get up. He didn’t look at you. You may as well have not existed. 

You finally reached him, narrowly missing being run over by a satyr who seemed to have gotten the wrong impression about which direction to sprint in. Every clip clop of his hooves shot through you. 

“Az.” 

Why hadn’t… Why hadn’t he helped you? 

“Az.”

Why hadn’t he come when you called?

The Shadowsinger rose. One hand grabbed the hilt of Truth Teller and the malicious blade sang as it was unleashed. The shadows that normally hovered about him like mist were gone. They were all around you now, tugging you in the opposite direction towards the Sidra. They pleaded for you to run, but you couldn’t understand them.

Something was deeply, deeply wrong.

“Az.” You begged and grabbed hold of his hand. “Please. You’re scaring me.”

Truth Teller shot out and pain radiated up your arm as the blade cut neatly through your clothes and sliced open your skin. You tripped backward, landing with a thud on the street that rattled your bones. Your sleeve turned dark with blood. 

You whimpered, holding your ruined arm up to your chest. There was no feeling in Azriel’s eyes. No flicker of recognition. None of that warmth and kindness you were so accustomed to. Just a menacing, silent form towering over you and blocking out the sun. 

A pale boy stood by Azriel’s side with ice chip eyes and rectangular pupils. He grinned brightly and the stretch of his waxy cheeks was too tight. Too forced. He shouldn’t have been alive. He-he—

Andrian. 

You’d seen him in Henna’s memory. You’d heard the snap of his neck beneath Koschei’s hands. Even now the boy was bent awkwardly, his head left in a perpetual tilt that should have looked charming and inquisitive but instead made you want to retch.

Andrian smiled at you then plastered a practiced look of horror on his face before running away with tears streaming down his cheeks, shouting for his mother. A burly male grabbed his shoulders, alarm on his face as he hoisted Andrian into his arms and disappeared into the crowd. Because who wouldn’t stoop down to help a fragile little boy? Who would dare suspect that the daemati that had roamed the Day Court’s halls and slithered his way into Velaris was a child?

Azriel gripped you by the front of your ruined clothes, hosting you up in the air. Your feet kicked uselessly and grabbed onto Azriel’s arm, trying to alleviate the choking pressure of his hand so close to your neck. 

“No. Azriel please. It’s me,” you whimpered. “It’s me.”

There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. There and gone. So brief you wondered if you’d imagined it.

His left hand parted the tatters of your robes, and you flinched when his fingers brushed against your hip before settling on the chain that kept the book tied to you. 

Panic seized your soul. 

You’d been chipping away at the book’s secrets for months and you couldn’t let Azriel — couldn’t let Koschei — get his hands on it. Not without you knowing what it was that made Beth’s story so special.

You flung a hand out, feeling the leather of the book beneath your fingertips like it was your own skin. Your magic called out to the book, desperate and powerful and familiar, and the barriers it possessed to hide its secrets melted away at your beckoning. You poured every inch of your power into it even as Azriel’s lips turned down in an ugly frown that didn’t belong on his face. 

Your eyes turned to gold, bright as the sun as you basked in the knowledge flooding your mind with the force of a tsunami. You didn’t hold anything back. Not this time.

You were so lost in the book — in the emotions and memories wrapping around your mind, sharp and brighter than the light of a thousand suns — that you didn’t feel it when Azriel gripped that golden chain. The metal flared, a high-pitched ring piercing the air as it snapped in two, giving way to Azriel’s power. Nothing should have broken it. And yet there it was dangling from your waist.  

You did feel it when he broke your wrist. 

When he forced the book from your grasp. 

And then stabbed you in the stomach. 

Cassian and Nesta winnowed to the street and watched in horror as your body was dropped to the ground. Your head cracked the pavement, hands twitching palms up at your sides. 

Nesta shrieked. The sound was harrowing. The mourning, dying screams of an animal.  

She charged forward, twin blades flashing in her hands, and silver light shot out of her chest, crashing into Azriel’s shields and forcing him back twenty feet. He gritted his teeth. The rubber soles of his shoes skidded and burned. 

Cassian collapsed on his knees beside you, peeling off his leather jacket and wrapping it around your head and neck to keep it in place. 

“Shit.” His hands came away bloody. RHYS! FEYRE! He screamed into the corners of his mind, hoping they’d hear. GET HERE NOW! 

“Thanatos.” Your voice was weak.

“It’s Cass. Hey, keep your eyes on me ok.” He pressed his hands against your stomach, wings flared out to protect you from the cold burn of Nesta’s power as she went toe to toe with The Shadowsinger. Magic sizzled in the air, raising the hair on the back of Cassian’s neck like a lightning strike waiting to happen. Blood pooled over his hands, thick and dark. “Eyes open,” he commanded, “On me.”  

Your eyes were open, and glowing strangely, but you weren’t staring at Cassian. No. You were miles outside of your body. 

“The Bone Carver. That’s it.” 

“Eyes on me, Y/n. Eyes on me.” 

“Thanatos,” your hand twitched, “The Bone Carver. That’s how she did it.”

Nesta screamed, flying overhead in a burst of blue light that had her back slamming into one of the marketplace towers. The white marble cracked viciously and Nesta dropped to the ground, dazed and distracted as blood dripped out from her nose. 

“NESTA!” Cassian roared, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as Azriel waited at the bottom of the street. 

The Shadowsinger muttered something dark and revolting beneath his breath. Ancient, powerful words that were whispered in his mind. He held onto the book in his hands as it lit up in flames and then blew the ashes into the wind that would carry them all the way to Andrian’s master. 

Koschei.

The call of her mate sharpened her senses and Nesta rolled onto her feet, calling her weapons back into her hands and leveling a glare at Azriel that would have killed a lesser male on the spot. 

She was Nesta fucking Archeron. 

Lady Death. 

Queen of Queens. 

And she would be damned if she let Azriel hurt her or anyone else.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, Az,” she growled. 

She’d been holding back before. She’d been holding back a long while. But no more of that. The power she let out burst through Velaris with light brighter than a dying star, crackling with an energy that knocked Azriel off his feet and sent him crashing into the river wall with a sickening crack that shattered the bones in his arm, his leg, and his wings. 

Rhys appeared at his side, violet eyes wide open in shock. He could feel the magic suffocating his brother’s consciousness, burying him so deep there was almost nothing left but anger behind his whiskey-brown eyes. 

Rhysand grabbed the sides of his head, shoving his way into Azriel’s mind even while he fought back. Rhys flinched when one of Azriel’s knives nicked his temple, drawing blood that dripped down onto his velvet dinner jacket and floated on the dense material like dew drops. 

“Stop. This isn’t you, Az.” 

Azriel seethed, teeth bared and bloody. He spit in Rhysand’s face and he winced. Rhysand would never be able to forgive himself for what he did next. But someone had burrowed themselves into Azriel’s mind so thoroughly, so viciously, that in that moment, it was the only thing Rhys could think to do. 

Rhysand’s talons dragged down on Azriel’s mental walls so viciously he screamed as they were torn to pieces. He dug in with brutal efficiency. Reaching, tearing, clawing to catch the curl of power that had infected Azriel’s mind before it could do any more damage. He latched onto its slithery, silver body and wrenched it out of Azriel’s consciousness. 

When I find you. You’re as good as dead. Rhysand promised. 

The daemati slunk away with a giddiness that sent a shiver through The High Lord’s bones. 

Azriel slumped, weak and boneless, against his brother’s shoulder. Sweat beaded his brow and he shook, blinking the saltiness out of his eyes. He felt like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. His bones were broken. His wings twisted. There was a raging headache that a hundred shots of vodka paled in comparison to. 

But it was his hands that horrified him most. Red and slippery. 

His breath shook.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t remember… what…. 

His eyes shot to Rhys, then up the street where he could make out Feyre, Cass, and Nesta huddled over your still body. The bond sat deep within him pulsing with terror and pain. 

“Rhys.” His voice broke. Rhysand angled his body to hide you from view, but it was too late. Azriel was panicking now, body trembling uncontrollably. “What happened?”

Rhysand said nothing. His eyes shined with horror. 

“What did I do? Rhys, what did I do?!” 

“Cass. Cassian, I’ve got her.” 

His hands were shaking. There was so much blood. The smell burned his nose and made him want to throw up his lunch. Feyre covered his hands with her own, peeling them away sticky and red from Y/n’s stomach. 

Light flooded out from Feyre’s palms, warm and lovely and Cassian and Nesta breathed a sigh of relief as the flow of red slowed and then stopped, flesh knitting itself back together. 

“It’s ok. You’ll be ok.” Nesta’s words were commanding as she held your neck and head still.

Your eyes searched the empty sky, seeing and unseeing. Then your hands shot up, grasping Feyre’s shoulders and digging in deep enough to leave bruises. Your eyes were wide, staring at her with an intensity that spoke of a thousand years. An unfathomable wealth of knowledge that should have crushed you beneath its weight. 

“Y/n it’s ok,” she murmured gently, pushing more power into your body, willing you to heal faster.

“Look. Feyre you need to look,” your voice was thick. Wet. Blood coated the inside of your mouth bitter and metallic. 

“I’m looking. Y/n, you hit your head. It’s going to be ok. You hear me? It’s going to be ok.” 

“You need to look,” you said once more.

You trailed a bloody, weak hand down Feyre’s arm and pulled her fingers up to your temple, tapping once. Twice. 

Without any more direction, she slipped into your mind and gasped.

Feyre stood in a pool of mist, white fingers reaching up her legs and splintering outwards before they changed direction and started to climb up into the darkness like trees. Or rather… like bookshelves. The mist formed stacks that disappeared into the distance, endless hallways and shelves that wound around each other. Chaotic and orderly at the same time. 

She could feel your presence beside her. Or rather she was you. In that moment she felt the raging winds of your power, hot and ravenous. It wrapped around you, tugging you to and fro like that uncontrollable lurch when you stand too close to the cliff’s edge. The call of the void.

She needed to answer that call the same way you did whenever you used your powers, because somewhere in the halls of your mind stood the knowledge you’d worked so hard to obtain. The truth of how it was Bethsevah Mordeigh was able to trap Koschei, and how to end it once and for all. 

Feyre let your magic pull her in the right direction. In the mist she stumbled upon the final memories you’d absorbed from the book before it had blown away in the wind.

Bethsevah wept, “No. No. No. I won’t,” shoving away the reed thin body that held her so close. Thanatos grasped her face in his pale hands, begging her to listen to him even as she shook her head frantically. “I won’t do it.” 

“You must. Bethsevah, you must.” His pitch black eyes winked with starlight… or maybe it was his tears. 

This world and its people had changed him. He could feel it in his bones. Something very deep and cruel within him had been twisted into something sacred. Something that toed the line of kindness. 

Koschei thought it was this element that made fae and humans beneath the three of them. They were supposed to be pure. Powerful. Handing out life and taking it away like the gods they were. But now Thanatos knew better. Now he knew exactly what it was that made Koschei and Stryga worse than even him — they would never be able to care for anyone. Not the way he cared for Bethsevah. Not the way he cared for the world she loved. 

“I won’t do it,” she growled.

“Then they’ll die,” he said, with a tone of finality that could only belong to a death god. “Everyone. Everyone you love. Everyone you care about. I know my brother. Koschei craves attention and devotion above all else. He won’t let you worship your Mother. He won’t stop until you all kneel or until you’re ashes in the wind. Beth—” He wrenched her hands back from where she covered her eyes, refusing to even look at him. 

He tucked his crooked finger beneath her chin, coaxing her gaze up. Together they were storm clouds blanketing an eternal night. A lightning strike — brief and chaotic and electrifying. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” she whispered, steel laced in her soft voice, “You don’t know what you’re offering.” 

He smiled, sad and simple. “I know exactly what I’m offering up.”

“Once I lock you in The Prison, I won’t be able to let you out. No one will. You’ll be trapped there for eternity.” She shivered, closing her eyes. She wouldn’t wish that fate upon her worst enemy, but her mate? She shook her head. 

“I know.” 

“No, you—”

“I have seen the first fall of snow on a new world. I have seen entire cities leveled to dust with no survivors. I’ve lived thousands of years. I understand.”

“We’ll find a way. Kosch—” 

“Remember what I told you,” he whispered, “Back at the cabin? You were made to ruin me, Beth. And I will let you do it a million times over. Without hesitation.” 

You and Feyre felt Beth’s pain as acutely as if you shared the same heart.

“I wish she hadn’t done it,” Beth whispered, “I wish the Mother had never created me to be your mate.” 

“I don’t.” Thanatos leaned his forehead against Beth’s and got lost in her. “There is no other way, Bethsevah.” He kept saying her name, like just speaking the word and feeling the shapes it took in his mouth would prolong the time they had together. Would tie them together more surely than the bond that burned in their chests.

She felt the battleground slip beneath her feet and no amount of power, no amount of willpower, could change it. 

He brushed back her hair and trailed one of his slender fingers down the curve of her cheek ending one teardrop’s race to her chin. “Mating bonds are powerful things, Beth. Your magic — your blood — and yours alone will be able to cut through my defenses and sever me from my power. I want you to take it and lock me away. Once my magic is yours, Stryga won’t be able to see you coming and you’ll be able to take her power as well. So long as you leave Koschei for last it may just be enough power to rid him from this earth once and for all.” 

“You’d have me do this. Destroy you and your family. This is what you want?”

Thanatos hesitated. “I am not a good male. But this… this will have to be enough. This is what I want, Bethsevah. For you and your family to live. To be happy and safe.”

“I won’t be happy, “ she said, eyes now flat and dull as the silver coins they placed over the dead, “I won’t take anyone else.”

“I want you to,” he begged, “I want you to marry and to have children. I want you to grow your family so that one day, if I ever do make it out of that Prison, I’ll still see pieces and memories of you roaming this earth. That’s all I want, Bethsevah, and it’s already more than I deserve.” 

“I’ll find a way,” Beth promised. “I’ll find a way to get you out. I swear it.” 

“Don’t make any bargains with me.” He smiled sadly, thumb wiping away at her cheeks, “That’s what got us into this mess.”

Finally she laughed, just a little. “I don’t regret it.” 

“Neither do I.”

The memory froze. A moment in time trapped like a beetle in amber.

A hand grabbed Feyre by her shoulders and swung her around. You stood there cloaked in pale, golden light, your eyes shining like copper coins. When you opened your mouth, you spoke in Beth’s voice.

Thanatos told me that magic runs in blood — familiar, same. But mates are different. Powerful. Their magic can protect one another. Identify one another across space and across time. But they can also turn on each other viciously. A lock and a key. Madness and salvation.

What I could destroy in Thanatos, I stood a chance at destroying in his siblings.

Your face fell, hauntingly beautiful in the glow of your powers. 

But I couldn’t do it. Not in the way he asked. I took his power. I locked him in that Prison. I bound Stryga to her cabin in the woods. But I didn’t kill Koschei when I should have. When the power of three gods was coursing through my veins and stripping me down to my bones, when I had enough light within me to see the birth and death of stars and the face of the Mother, I couldn’t do it. 

I thought I would be capable of destroying Koschei and freeing Thanatos, but I couldn’t do either. I had only enough sanity left to take that power and bury it somewhere Koschei couldn’t touch. To trap him on the lake where he can live in madness knowing his magic is so close by and yet locked away. Unreachable. 

I’ve done my part. I’ve had my children. I’ve left my mark on the world, great and terrible as it is. If you’re reading this, my daughters, do what I could not. Take the power in the lake and destroy him. It will open for you, and only you. My power. My blood. 

And if you have any love for me at all, find a way to release Thanatos. That is what I ask of you.

Bethsevah’s calls had never been answered, at least not by her children. You knew this much in your heart. Thanatos — The Bone Carver — had freed himself thousands of years later only to die beneath the Cauldron’s power. 

You whispered a silent prayer to the Mother. You hoped the Bone Carver was at peace now. Now that he must be with his Beth. 

Azriel was screaming your name, broken cries cutting through the quiet of the marketplace. You’d never thought him capable of such a wretched noise. 

The High Lady sat shock still above you with tears streaming down her face. Grey eyes glistening.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

I apologize if you thought I'd forgotten about the plot with Koschei and was just writing cute, fluffy scenes between our favorite Librarian and our favorite Batboy. But you also should've remembered that I burned this girl's house down and had her kill a another character in self defense so... this was coming... sorry...

This is by far the chapter I've been most nervous about posting because it's where I start to tie together all the weird loose threads that have been accumulating throughout this story so I am very much open to feedback on how I can do things better and on how I can make things clearer moving forward. Or! If you thought I did a good job and are intrigued, I'd appreciate it if you let me know that too!

But anyway thanks for reading 😅.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x reader angst

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Since you’re doing some Welsh lessons, I was wondering if you’d teach us some Welsh idioms? I have a committed love for all the different sayings in different languages so I’d love to know if there are any particular to Welsh!

Thank you!! (Diolch?!)

Tonnes! Let's see

Mae'n bwrw hen wragedd a ffyn: it's raining old ladies and sticks (it's raining cats and dogs)

Mae'n ar y gweill: it's on the (knitting) needles (It's in progress)

Mae e'n cadw draenog yn ei boced: he has a hedgehog in his pocket (he's stingy with money)

Dawnsio ar y dibyn: dancing on the cliff edge (playing with fire)

Ar bigau ddrain: on thorn tips (on tenterhooks)

Y drwg yn y caws: the bad in the cheese (the problem)

A'i wynt yn ei ddwrn: with his wind in his fist (he's out of breath)

A ddwg ŵy a ddwg fwy: he who steals an egg will steal more

Fel cynffon buwch: like a cow's tail (later than everyone else)

Angel pen ffordd, diawl pen tân: angel on the road, devil at the fireplace (two-faced)

Mi/fe rown fy mhen i'w dorri: I'll give my head for breaking (I'm absolutely certain)

Paid â chodi pais ar ôl piso: don't lift your petticoat after pissing (don't cry over spilt milk)

Deuparth gwaith ei ddechrau: Two-thirds of a job is starting it (the first step is the hardest)

Ennyn cannwyll i chwilio am haul canoldydd: to light a candle to search for the mid-day sun (a fool's errand)

Hawdd dywedyd ‘mynydd’ na myned drosto: It is easier to say ‘mountain’ than to go over it (easier said than done)

Gwyn y gwêl y frân ei chyw: The crow sees her chick as white (To have a biased opinion of someone)

And finally, my personal favourite:

Mae rhaid i mi dod nôl at fyng nghoed: I have to get back to my trees (I am mega stressed and I need to find my equilibrium.)

#asks #wales! #closed for cleaning on mondays #linguistics

[foxylady13]

"A thing of secret, lovely beauty"

Artist: Kloartz over on IG!

~Gwyn nimbly rolled to her feet, grinning so broadly that Nesta was momentarily taken aback by it. The priestess had been pretty in the library, but with that joy, that confidence as she aimed for the three priestesses, she had emerged into a beauty to rival Merrill or Mor.

~Gwyn’s fingers slid into hers, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up to find her holding Emerie’s free hand as well. Gwyn smiled again, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”

~Gwyn let out a high-pitched noise that was nothing but pure excitement. Azriel, on the other side of the ring with the rest of the priestesses, half-turned at the sound, brows high.

~Azriel had winnowed her and Cassian here after training, but hadn’t lingered. Apparently, Gwyn wanted him to go over dagger handling, so he’d left them with a promise to return in an hour.

From the bonus chapter: Which happens inbetween Ch. 58/59 of ACOSF

~His shadows peered over his wings at her.  The young priestess smiled--and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows.

~“Aren't you cold?" His breath clouded in front of him.  Gwyn shrugged. "Once you get moving, you stop noticing it."  He nodded, silence falling. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. He blocked out the bloody memory that fashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now. Her head ducked, as if remembering it too. That he'd been the one who'd found her that day at Sangravah. "Happy Solstice," she said, as  much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing.  He snorted. "Are you kicking me out?"  (He's showing concern about her being cold and we have proof from Azriel he was there at Sangravah and Gwyn isn't making things up like the other side tries to say)

~Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he'd spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. "I can't  sleep without my favorite dagger."

"A comfort to every growing child."  Azriel's lips twitched. He refrained from mentioning that he did indeed sleep with a dagger. Many daggers. Including one under his pillow. (Azriel shows more positive emotions with his interaction with Gwyn than seemingly around anyone else)

~How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.

~She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Do you, though?" she pressed. "Sing?" Azriel couldn't help his soft chuckle. "Yes."

~Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her  self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. "I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days." Azriel laughed. "I’ll give you that."  Gwyn smiled broadly. "Thank you." Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.  

~"Happy Solstice," Azriel said before aiming for the archway into the House. "Don't stay out too much longer. You'll freeze."  Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer. (Again, Azriel is showing care/concern over Gwyn possibly being cold/out too long and just look at the wording used here)

How the bonus chapter ends:

Clotho's pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her.

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to  the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it.  

But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. 

A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

These scenes take place after the bonus chapter:

~Cassian glanced over at Az, but his attention was fixed on the young priestess, admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face."

~The world seemed to pause at the words. As if it had been following one path and now branched off in another direction. In a hundred years, a thousand, this moment would still be etched in his mind. That he would tell his children, his grandchildren, Right then and there. That was when it all changed.

~Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved.

~Azriel clapped his hands, and all the females straightened. “You’ll work in groups of three.” Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.” Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.”

~Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. “You have no idea what you just started,” she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. “Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?” Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. “You’re the new ribbon, Az.”

~“The first had just unbuckled his belt when Azriel arrived.” Silent, unending tears streamed down Gwyn’s face. “Azriel slaughtered all of them within moments. He didn’t hesitate. But I could barely move, and when I tried to get up … He gave me his cloak and wrapped me in it." (Without hesitation, Azriel slaughtered all the soldiers and gave Gwyn his cloak.... similar to Lucien breaking free of his restraints without hesitation to get to Elain and give her his cloak)

After reading all this.... how can you NOT think Gwyn and Azriel are endgame? And this is what you missed on Glee......

#gwyneth berdara #pro gwyn #pro gwyneth berdara #pro gwyneth #gwyn acosf #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel's shadows #azriel #gwyn #azriel and gwyn #gwyn and azriel

[separatist-apologist]

My Whole Life Is Ruined

Summary: When you hold me, it holds me together, and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Surprise @talons-and-teeth! I'm sorry for the wait- I was not your original secret santa. I pulled this together based on what I know about you and I hope you like it! @acotargiftexchange

Big thanks to @octobers-veryown for making a moodboard with practically no instructions other than one Taylor Swift lyric and the description "Azriel has been hiding the fact he's Gwyn's mate and they have sex about it."

--

Insomnia was nothing new. 

Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d fully slept through the night. The past chased the present, running in circles as she ran after her tail, almost grasping it before she woke covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Sometimes, bathed in nothing but moonlight, Gwyn wondered if there would ever come a time when she didn’t dream of her sister, of a life long gone.

It didn’t rattle her as badly as it used to. Sitting in the bed Nesta had so graciously offered up, Gwyn pushed the blankets from her legs to let the cool, winter air caress her overheated skin. Leaving the library still felt like a picked over wound. She didn’t want to go back, cloistered away from her friends and the life she’d begun to enjoy living. That didn’t mean she wasn’t scared.

Anxiety seemed to thrum beside her heartbeat, a constant presence she could only just shake if she was otherwise occupied. Right then, in the dead of night, Gwyn felt it snake around her until it was wrapped tight around her throat, choking a scream that always seemed so close to escaping.

She didn’t bother changing out of her thin nightdress, certain neither Cassian or Nesta would be up this late. If they were even back—they’d gone to Hewn City that evening for some meeting with a Day Court prince, giving Gwyn full run of the House of Wind. Not that she did anything terribly interesting with all that power—Gwyn got a book and some hot chocolate and spent the night curled in a chair reading until she finally dragged herself into bed.

Maybe she should have trained on the roof first. Really worn herself down so her brain was too exhausted to conjure up memories of the past, all the while whispering of how she might have prevented it, if she’d only been stronger, smarter, cleverer. Forcing her to relive it, to pick it apart to see what could have been different.

That was exhausting, too.

Cold air hit her the moment she pushed open the door, howling a greeting that might have scared someone else off. Gwyn liked the biting cold, the raucous yelling, the silhouette of the mountains looming like shadows in the distance. A half moon poured light over the rooftop, causing sleeping weapons to glint beneath. Maybe, she thought ruefully, she should have put on socks. Hair caught against her lips, and as Gwyn worked to push it out of her face, wishing for a hair tie, too. 

It wasn’t too late and yet she was already here, wasn’t she? Might as well just power through, ignoring her discomfort like she was so accustomed to. The bite of cold was a reminder she’d survived—she was alive. So what if it burned a little? Sometimes Gwyn thought she fought better when she was in pain.

And more often than not, she suspected she deserved to feel it. That the curling peace was a mistake and everyone was going to realize what an imposter she was. They’d tell her she didn’t belong with them and cast her back out. Gwyn was always just waiting for it, a hammer that might fall at any given moment. 

A blade just against her neck, never quite striking.

Gwyn pulled out a dagger, her favored weapon, and held it for a moment in her hand. Nesta was all brute strength, and Emerie terrifying yet easy grace, but Gwyn liked to be the shadow in the dark. The knife at someone's side rather than a screaming sword coming for a person's throat. While Nesta and Emeries radiated the kind of beauty that made men cower, Gwyn liked to think she was sweeter, more unassuming. People looked at Nesta, at Emerie, and were taken by their perfection.

They looked at Gwyn and wondered why she was with them. So Gwyn trained harder, made herself someone that couldn’t be ignored. Not forever, anyway. She was good at hiding, besides, taking to trees, blending into the background so often that on more than one occasion, Cassian and Nesta didn’t realize Gwyn was in the room until she cleared her throat. 

Unbalanced, Gwyn took a second dagger and for a moment, was the wind itself. Recalling the movements Azriel had been teaching her, Gwyn stepped like a dance, twisting her body and slashing her blades against invisible foes.

A real ones, too. A shadow moved from the edge of the ring, catching her by surprise. Gwyn darted, and just as Azriel had taught her, grabbed them, slamming their body to the ground. It was thunder the way that massive, familiar form crashed against the world, a mighty god dragged from the heavens themselves.

Azriel groaned, eyes closed even as his hands grabbed her waist, holding her knee painfully against his ribs. “That was good,” he gasped, fingers curling into her skin. 

“I’m so sorry,” she replied, dropping the blade she’d pressed to his throat. A thin line of blood snaked over golden, tattooed skin, staining the rather lovely black jacket he was wearing. Why was he up here, she wondered? Shouldn’t he be enjoying himself with his friends and family? 

Azriel swallowed hard, opening hazel eyes that cut through the otherwise oppressive dark to look at her.

“I’m not.”

And then he released her, letting her scramble backwards, heart thumping in her chest. Azriel didn’t move, wings spread wide around against the ground. He looked like a fallen angel and Gwyn was awed at the sight, the realization that it had been her who’d felled him. He was looking right back at her, his expression clouded by shadow. Was he angry? He said he wasn’t, but surely he didn’t appreciate being assaulted in his own home. 

Not that she saw much of him since she’d moved in. Azriel, who maintained a bedroom in the House of Wind, was suddenly gone and when Gwyn was really down, she sometimes thought it was because he didn’t like being around her. Here he was, though, clambering to his feet, his eyes sliding down her body. She could feel the heat of them like he was touching her skin and was grateful for a sudden burst of wind hitting her like a bucket of ice water.

Careful, she warned herself. 

It was hard, though. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful Azriel was. She wasn’t stupid. It didn’t hurt that in her worst moment, Azriel’s had been the very first she’d seen. A savior—a dark angel, come to wreak bloody vengeance on her sister's behalf. It had been Morrigan who’d taken her away to safety, but when Gwyn thought about how she’d escaped, she always remembered Azriel’s curved, lethal blade, sliding cleanly through the bodies of the same males who had killed her sister.

She’d always been grateful to him for it, even if she’d never tell him. He’d never once looked at her like he remembered, had never betrayed an ounce of pity. She’d expected him to say something back when he’d first joined their training, wary and distant. And maybe he knew, because he kept his distance until it was safe, had held himself at an arm's length and let her decide how much or little of him she wanted. 

The problem was Azriel himself. Outside of being the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, he was just nice. Not in the way Cassian was, with big smiles and silly jokes, but with serious eyes and a dagger in hand, forcing her to move again and again and again. Your steps are off, Gwyn—you’ll get yourself killed that way. Eyes on your opponent, don’t look away. Hold your breath, don’t let them know you’re there.

Because he knew it mattered to her. That she wouldn’t be caught off guard ever again, that Gwyn would never let someone hurt her. Often, she wondered if he didn’t understand that pain, if it didn’t mirror some tragedy of his own. They didn’t talk about it—they didn’t need to. It was an understanding between them, something so intimate she would never share it with another living soul.

She kept waiting for Azriel to step back, to tell her she’d done enough, that she should finish with Cassian. He never did. Even when he was gone, Gwyn practiced knowing he’d want to see the progress she’d made while he was gone. And when he returned, he’d wait on the roof even when she’d flippantly told him it would be easier to just send word via letter.

I don’t mind waiting.

Those words still felt so charged to her. Like he was trying to say something else, eyes glittering and bright like the stars overheard. Gwyn pulled herself from her thoughts to look up at Azriel looming overhead, his wings flared around him as if he was trying to make himself seem larger. It was working—he was massive, muscular and tall and just like before, half fallen angel, half terrifying god come to earth so he might reign. 

“You look cold,” Azriel commented, caught looking at her. 

Gwyn put her hands on her hips. So what if he was? “I’m not.”

“Bullshit.”

Smothering a smile, Gwyn asked with faux outrage, “Are you calling me a liar?”

She swore the corners of his lips twitched. “To your face, even.”

“The cold doesn’t bother me,” Gwyn said, shifting from one leg to another, a gesture he seemed to register with sharp-eyed interest. Proof, she realized as his fingers began making quick work of his jacket. “No, that’s not—”

“Suck it up,” was Azriel’s dark voiced response, draping the warm jacket against her shoulders, leaving himself only in a black shirt stretched over his muscular torso. His eyes slid back down to her legs, lips flattening as he realized she was without shoes, too. “You’ll catch your death out here.”

Gwyn could smell the heady, masculine scent of him coming from the fabric, her arms far too small for the large holes. Still, she didn’t protest, turning to look toward the outline of the mountains instead.

“Maybe. But what a way to go.”

“It’s hardly heroic to die from the cold,” Azriel murmured, turning to follow her gaze. Did he know what she was thinking? How they had nearly died in the blood rite, thrown in wearing only a thin night dress against well-armed warriors? She wondered if Azriel would have found that heroic, even if it had been the cold that had gotten them.

Gwyn blew out a breath, the steam of air curling between them as one of his shadows darted out, illuminated by starlight. It wasn’t the first time and she wondered if they thought she, too, had a shadow for them to interact with.

Or if it meant something else.

Something more.

“Inside,” Azriel finally said, a gust of wind ruffling his night dark hair.

“You’re fussy tonight,” she grumbled, not protesting when his fingers pressed against the small of her back, pushing her toward the door. Heat pulsated from the touch, settling low in her stomach. “Did something happen?”

Azriel pulled open the door with his free hand, his touch never quite leaving. “No. Hewn City is unchanging.”

She glanced up at him, the light softening the harsh lines of his face. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s predictable.”

“I want to see it,” Gwyn declared, though in truth she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Still, the corners of Azriel’s mouth twitched a bit, as if the whole thing amused him. 

“You would devour them,” was his easy, good-natured response. “To their endless delight.”

“And yet I’ve been snubbed yet again,” she teased, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Do I file my complaint with you…or…?”

“You were spared the grating presence of Vanserra,” Azriel said, cocking his head with a half smile. “But I will pass along your discontent to the High Lord.”

“Be sure that you do,” Gwyn replied, grinning by the time Azriel deposited her into a chair in the study. He didn’t go far, sitting on the arm, his wings draped behind them. She could see the flexing muscle of his thigh beneath his well-tailored pants. If she’d wanted, she could have touched him.

It was obscene how badly she wanted to. How she had to clench her fingers to fists to keep from reaching out, well aware that Azriel would withdraw entirely and, perhaps, never speak to her again. He’d been nothing if not unfailingly polite, besides…though…he had been looking at her in the clingy, short nightdress, hadn’t he? 

Just because you were cold, her mind reminded her. After all, she was still wearing his jacket. Gwyn shrugged out of it, heat blooming over her cheeks as she shoved it into his lap. There. She’d gotten to touch him without him knowing and give him back his jacket before she convinced herself to keep it.

And possibly sleep in it.

Azriel arched a dark brow, hazel eyes staring at the rumpled fabric now balled in his lap. “What did the jacket do to offend you?” he asked, taking it in broad, callused hands. He’d removed his siphons, leaving the scarred skin wholly on display. She wondered what had happened to him—and why. 

If he’d ever gotten his revenge for it.

“It’s yours—that’s enough,” she replied flippantly. Holding her gaze, Azriel picked up the jacket and brought it to his nose. Time seemed to stop, frozen entirely as she watched him do this.

And he watched her, daring her to say something. She opened her mouth, gaping, only to close it.

And Azriel smiled. Broad and unrestrained, as if he were so delighted he couldn’t help himself. Tilting his head toward the roof, he murmured, “House—some tea, if you don’t mind.”

Of course the house didn’t mind. Two cups of steaming tea rattled on the coffee table before them, complete with sugar and honey, if either of them wanted it.

Gwyn didn’t think she could pick up a cup without betraying the rattle of her hands. Why? Azriel had discarded the jacket casually, tossing it to another chair like it was uninteresting to him. And was he closer, now? His thigh was, she was certain, but had his arm always been behind her. If she moved a few inches, he could have slid into the seat to join her.

He could pull you into his lap if he wanted. 

Which, of course, he didn’t

Didn’t he?

“Why are you here?” she asked, hating that breathless quality of her voice. Azriel heard it, too, head snapping to the side, nose flared as though searching for something she couldn’t place. 

“I like to be near you,” he replied. He could have thrown her across the room and surprised her less. Once again, Gwyn opened her mouth only for no sound to leave her throat. 

“You—you’re never here,” she finally managed. Azriel leaned forward, the faelights gilding the dark ink of his tattoos scrawled over his biceps. He took one of the cups and handed it to her, fingers brushing her own.

“I can’t stand being around you,” was his maddening, level response. 

Gwyn’s stomach sank. “What?”

She couldn’t drink—not when such a strange admission hung between them. Azriel, so unused to verbosity, was now forced to explain himself. It occurred to her just as he turned fully to look at her, some of the color drained from his otherwise beautiful face, that perhaps he wanted this confrontation. She didn’t, though, and wished she could have told him so. Things were fine between them—distant, maybe, and filled with a lopsided yearning on her end, but that was better than whatever he was about to do.

Gwyn had the distinct feeling Azriel was about to crush her. Emotionally ruin her. Destroy her so recklessly there would be no coming back.

“You still don’t feel it?” he asked instead, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “After all this time?”

A new fear speared through her gut. There was only one thing Azriel could possibly feel—and one thing she could possibly not. Gwyn had to set the shaking cup of tea down before bolting from her chair, arms wrapped around her chest. 

“You don’t feel anything,” she declared, deciding if she felt nothing, neither did Azriel. 

Pain lanced across his expression, replaced by grim determination. As he stood, Gwyn knew Azriel wasn’t going to let it go until they both felt exactly as he did—until she felt the mating bond. 

Gwyn shook her head, backing away as he advanced. “Don’t do this, Azriel—”

“Is it that terrible, then?” he asked her, his low words filled with a familiar emotion. One she recognized all too well—the loathing, the self-hatred, the expectation that of course she would reject him. 

“It’s—” Gwyn couldn’t breathe for the closeness of him, for the wanting to touch him. And maybe she did feel it, in her way. Had felt it the moment he’d strode into that cursed, wrecked room looking like the god of vengeance. She’d merely been too hurt to know it, too broken, too emotionally devastated. He should have frightened her and he never had.

Even then, towering over her with his muscular frame, Gwyn didn’t flinch away. She merely met his gaze with blazing defiance.

“You’re wrong,” she told him, keeping her voice light as she pushed at his chest so she could slip around him. “Or mistaken. There is no bond and I’m certain if you saw a healer, they’d—” Azriel grabbed her wrist, spinning her so her back was pressed to the floral papered wall behind her. Dipping his head, Azriel ran his nose the length of her neck.

“You’re no mistake, Gwyn.”

“I am,” she whispered without meaning to. Azriel could do so much better. Surely…surely he wanted better. What had that been like for him, she wondered, and before she could stop herself, she added, “When did you feel it?”

Something primal flared in those bright eyes of his. “Dinner with Nesta and Cassian. You touched my hand and I…” Holding up the offending hand, Azriel flexed his fingers in memory. “I felt the snap.”

That had been almost a year. It had been the last time Azriel had dinner with all of them, and right after she’d formally moved into the House of Wind. Gwyn still remembered that night—Azriel had bolted before dessert, murmuring something about needed to talk to Rhys. Gwyn had thought nothing of it—might never have thought about it again had he not pinned her against a wall to declare that had been the moment he’d felt a mating bond snap. 

“We’ve been training together for months,” she replied with no small amount of outrage. He’d been keeping this secret for that long? 

“I thought you’d feel it,” Azriel all but growled, eyes bouncing over her face. “And when you didn’t…”

“Rhys knows?”

“And Cassian—”

“So Nesta, too?!”

Gwyn shoved him again, harder this time. Azriel let her, she suspected, stepping back so she could have some breathing space. “They all know but I don’t.”

“And you’re taking the knowledge so well,” Azriel replied with a bite of sarcasm.

She whirled, wishing she had a dagger in hand even has the dried blood from his healed wound still taunted her. “I think I deserved to know before Cassian.”

“I needed his help,” Azriel admitted, running a hand over his mouth. “I needed to know how he managed it.”

“How difficult could it be,” she asked flippantly, intending to leave him there so she could think. Foolish to turn her back on a predator. Azriel had her again, wrapped in one strong arm, the other holding her jaw so she had to look at him.

“Hell,” he rasped, his anguish plain. “Every minute of it has been hell.” 

In Gwyn’s defense, she managed one, final, protest. “It’s just—”

His mouth covered hers before she could finish that statement, could say what they both knew she’d been thinking. As if he found the words so abhorrent he wouldn’t hear them, would swallow them until he’d snuffed them from their very existence.

Gwyn forgot what she’d been about to say at all. She’d thought about what it might be like to kiss him. If his mouth would be soft or rough, if he kissed like he fought or if there was passion bubbling beneath his icy exterior. She hadn’t been prepared for what it would feel like or how desire would overtake her so thoroughly she didn’t care about anything else. Were those her hands cupping his neck? Her lips hungrily kissing him back like a crazed, desperate creature?

Her tongue meeting his own, her legs moving until he had her back against the wall so he could press the length of his body against hers? 

There was only one thought in her name, an echo repeated over and over. Mate. Mate. Mate. 

Maybe he should have just kissed her at that dinner. Skipped the yearning, the anguish, the uncertainty. At least they would have been kissing, anyway. Gwyn forgot herself entirely, nails digging against his shoulder until Azriel helpfully hoisted her into the air so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

“Don’t talk about my mate like that,” he panted, dragging his teeth against her neck. “I love her.”

Gwyn whimpered. What did she say to that? As it turned out—nothing. Azriel kissed her again, sparing them both whatever incoherent nonsense might have tumbled from her lips. She might have sworn she loved him too, if only to convince him to keep kissing her like he was.

Gwyn was certain Azriel’s kiss had ruined her life. How was she supposed to go back to things as they were before? It wasn't knowing that he was her mate, but knowing the way his hands felt cupped against her face and the way wildfire sparked in her blood when his tongue slid into her mouth? 

The worst of it was when his hands left her ass, letting her slide down the hard slab of his body before she was ready. He pulled away, lips swollen and eyes wild, to take a healthy step away from her, though it seemed to take an immense amount of effort. For her part, she kept herself pressed to the wall, unsure what was happening.

“You know now,” Azriel managed, his voice hoarse, “and that’s…that’s all I wanted. I ah…I should go before—”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, strangely hurt by this new rejection. Gwyn knew all about mating bonds. What fae didn’t? Before she’d come here, she’d once dreamt of her own mate, giggling with her sister in their bunks as they imagined what that person might be like. If they existed at all, given the rarity of such a thing. It was almost funny that he’d been right here all along, close enough she could literally touch. 

And he was going to leave? He didn’t want to accept it? Did she? It was all happening so fast but of course you didn’t reject a mate. She could see the wariness on his face, could watch in real time as he pulled up his defenses as she realized that yes. That was exactly his expectation.

Why? She knew from Nesta’s stories that Azriel was well sought after. And she wasn’t blind. What female didn’t dream of a male with his bone structure? He was powerful and close to the High Lord, and beyond all that, Azriel was kind. A genuinely good person, the sort of male one could spend centuries with if they wanted.

What could she even offer him? Gwyn’s thoughts raced, listing all the reasons he ought to have stopped, why keeping this a secret made so much sense. She didn’t notice Azriel creeping closer and closer until his fingers were under her chin, lifting her face so she had to look at him. 

“You’re doing it again,” he murmured, his voice dark and dangerous. “Thinking unkind thoughts about my mate.”

“You can’t tell me what to think,” she shot back, her own voice trembling a little. He was so certain, so unbothered and in her entire life, had anyone ever immediately felt that way about her?

Nesta and Emerie. Catrin. 

Azriel.

“You have it all wrong,” Azriel murmured and she wondered if perhaps he could read her mind. “It is you who could do so much better.”

His words drew a gust of laughter from her lips. The mother had certainly chosen well, putting the two of them together. What a pair—she wondered who would relent first? Her, or Azriel? Who would believe they deserved a mating bond first? It occurred to Gwyn, as she reached for his arm to pull him closer, that she was a shade too competitive—she wanted it to be him who broke first. Who relented first, who believed he was worthy, was deserving. 

And she could see, from that golden glint burning in his own gaze, that he was thinking the exact same thing. 

“You’re stupid,” she whispered, surging up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She could taste the smile spreading over his face, sweet against the warm heat of his mouth. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to realize he wasn’t smiling because she’d told him to stop talking, but because she was kissing him. Gwyn hadn’t even considered not kissing.

He was her mate, after all. He was hers. She felt that the way she felt her own heart, the possession, the desire, the heat. She didn’t feel the cord the way everyone spoke of, but perhaps that was mere metaphor. After all, Gwyn believed Azriel wouldn’t lie to her about something so life altering.

Besides. She liked kissing him, new as it was. Azriel was unhurried and thorough, just like every other task she’d ever seen him undertake. And for the first time in a long time, she wondered what it would be like if he paid her that sort of attention in the bedroom. They stood there like that, his arm keeping her on her toes, steady against his warm, solid body. Momentarily, Gwyn wondered what might happen if Nesta and Cassian were to come in and decided she didn’t care.

How many times had she walked in on them in far more compromising positions, besides? 

Tiny steps had Gwyn flush against the wood wall, pressed against Azriel’s hard body and oh. He wanted her. Wanted her in a way that emptied her mind of all other thought beyond the desire to touch him.

And she was allowed, she realized with giddiness. He belonged to her. It was a possessive thought that overrode everything else, including all her good sense. He was hers.

“Mine,” she whispered into his mouth, not meaning to. Azriel groaned, tangling a hand in her hair to tilt back her head, his tongue delving back between her teeth to really taste her. Without the leathers he usually wore, it was surprisingly easy to find the golden buttons on his jacket, undoing them before Azriel’s own brain seemed to catch up with what was happening.

His wings flared, enveloping around them for a moment as he pulled back, his breathing heavy.

“Cassian will be home soon,” he whispered, holding her close against him as if he expected his friend to take her away. “Nesta too.” “You have a bedroom here, right?” Gwyn said with more daring than she felt. Azriel’s once half-lidded eyes flew open, those hazel eyes searching her own. 

“I do,” he whispered, swallowing audibly. “There’s no rush—”

“Please?”

One moment she’d been standing there, her hand flat against the white, linen shirt Azriel wore beneath his jacket and the next her feet were in the air, her body cradled against him as he walked.

“I can’t think when you’re around,” Azriel was saying, his steps echoing against the wood. “Can’t think just looking at you. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and this will have all been a dream.”

“It’s real,” she replied, pressing her lips to his neck. “I’m real. We’re real.”

He shuddered, all but running up a flight of stairs. There was no reaction when his wing clipped a door frame nor did he say a word when he had to use his nice shoe to slam his bedroom door shut. Gwyn wasn’t given the opportunity to really look around his space, either—though it seemed sparse and filled with dark, moody colors. 

Azriel had her on the bed, his own body over top her own before she could exhale the breath she’d just taken. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, the maddening male. She would have told him she didn’t want him to, but he was kissing her again, his burning lips all but bruising her own. Drawing a leg up, Gwyn could line up their otherwise mismatched bodies so he was pressed exactly where she wanted him. 

They were going to do this. She wanted to do this. When she managed to take a breath, the taste of blood faint against her tongue, she rasped, “Take this off.”

Azriel was on his knees in a moment, shucking off his jacket before all but ripping off his shirt, too. There in the dark with nothing but silvery moonlight to illuminate him, Gwyn was allowed to really look at him. 

He didn’t move, a lock of dark hair half obscuring the intensity of his gaze. “All of it,” she decided before she lost her nerve. 

Azriel cocked his head, his lips pursed as though he’d tell her no.

“Please,” she added.

Azriel groaned again, softer this time. Somewhere in the house, a door slammed closed and a mingling of male and female voices rose like music, a soothing hum in the background as Azriel slid off the bed entirely.

Wings tucked tightly against his toned back, he quietly locked his door before turning back to her. “We don’t have to,” he said, his fingers hovering over the laces of his pants. Gwyn had a suspicion Azriel would spend the next century saying this and she’d spend the next century  reassuring him that she wanted all of it. All of him.

Maybe he’d realize in the morning when she snuck into the kitchen and begged the house for his favorite meal. She had no idea what it was, but surely the magic that governed this place did? Would he eat it from her hands? Or would he balk, certain this was just another dream?

“I know,” she said, leaning up on her elbows. “Take it all off, anyway.”

Gwyn knew what Azriel was wondering but her past was murky—forgotten in the dark, the ugly replaced with his easy, unassuming beauty. Still, she held her breath as he undressed entirely, drinking in the sight of him. This was the male she’d knocked to the ground, the very same that could kill another person without a second thought.

Underneath the thick, armored leathers and weapons lay just a male made of skin and bone. Gwyn’s eyes traced the tattoos adorning his shoulders and chest, the intricate swirls snaking up his neck and vanishing behind his back. Every inch of him was muscled, softer now that he was relaxed and still present just below the warm brown of his flesh.

And between his legs…

Gwyn giggled. She couldn’t help herself. It was so big—surely they weren’t supposed to be that large? That thick? There was an air of male pride shimmering around him, his legs spread a little wider as if to say, drink it all in. 

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, his voice a dark, teasing growl. Prowling forward, Gwyn’s heart spiked loud enough he must have heard.

“I wasn’t prepared for…” For what? For him? Azriel was so quiet, so unassuming…she just assumed if he had all that going on he’d brag a little more? Swagger about the way Cassian always was? 

“I’d be a poor mate if I left you wanting,” he replied, his eyes glazed over once his knees hit the edge of the bed. Perhaps it was the sight of her, still dressed, scrambling on her hands and knees so she could crawl toward him. She just wanted to touch, to feel if his cock was as hard as it looked. 

Azriel sucked in a breath when her fingers curled around the base of his shaft, just barely touching. Looking up, she murmured, “Is this what you like?”

“I like you,” he replied, scooping up her hair in his hands as Gwyn stroked him experimentally. He choked out a sound, his heartbeat thudding in her ears. She supposed that was her answer—he liked the way she touched him.

Pride filled her chest knowing she could please her mate, even with something as simple as touching him. Gwyn stroked again, letting her wrist twist at the end as her eyes refused to leave his face.

“Gods,” he whispered, his wings tightening against his back. “I’ve imagined…Gwyn…”

She was allowed a third pass before he pushed her back, her clothes pulled off her body so quickly all she managed was to lift her hips and raise her arms. 

“Do you know how many nights I’ve laid in this exact bed and imagined you just like this?” Azriel began, his voice a dark, sultry whisper. “Splayed out…naked…undone?”

“No,” she squeaked out in response, half embarrassed to be undressed before him. Azriel’s gaze burned against her skin, warming a path from her collarbone to her thighs. 

“Would you like to know what I dream about at night?” he questioned, sinking to his knees so he was eye level with the edge of the bed. 

Arousal ribboned through her, making a fool out of her. “Yes,” she replied, strangely excited to be the object of this man’s fantasies. 

Strong, scarred fingers curled around her thighs, pushing them wider before hooking them over his shoulders. He was staring at her cunt, now, studying her like she was some priceless piece of art. 

“I dream of tasting you,” Azriel breathed, the warmth of his breath fanning against her. Gwyn squirmed when he kissed her inner thigh—the left, and then the right—before using his tongue to lightly take that first taste he’d been dreaming of. Gwyn might have asked him how he liked it had it not felt so good. 

Besides, she knew he liked it—Azriel groaned loudly, spreading her apart wider with his fingers so he could taste her everywhere. Gone was his slow exploration, his desire to take his time. All of it had been replaced with the animal kneeling between her legs, licking and touching her cunt like his life depended on it. 

All traces of her embarrassment evaporated, leaving only instinct behind. Gwyn surrendered to the urge, letting desire wash over her until it was all she knew. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, well aware he probably couldn’t. 

Azriel pushed a finger into her gently, moaning at whatever he felt. Gwyn hadn’t considered what it would feel like to share space with him—to feel him inside her own body but now…

“Az,” she panted, her hips rolling against his mouth and hand. She wanted him to stop licking, to replace his fingers with his cock. Heat was building in her chest beyond simple arousal, heavy like a chain. 

Unbreakable.

A bond. A real thread she could follow straight to the male between her legs. It reverberated and then snapped just as Azriel sucked her clit into his mouth, eliciting a scream that was half his name. Could he feel it too? No—his had snapped months ago and he’d just been living with it.

Gwyn couldn’t see how. If she didn’t have him right that second she might go insane. Reaching for his powerful biceps, Gwyn tried to pull him off her but the waves of pleasure made her hands shake. 

“Az,” she tried again, his name a breathy moan against her lips. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against him in what must have seemed like encouragement to keep going. Maybe it was—she didn’t try very hard to get him off her.

Azriel managed a third finger, a whine slipping from his throat at the effort. Gwyn just barely registered any of it, her body jerking a second time from pleasure so bright and heady she could have died from it. It was too much—Gwyn was burning, was in free-fall with no one to catch her.

Digging her nails into his skin, she yanked at him. Azriel emerged, lips wet and eyes wild. “Please,” she heard herself saying, the magic words that, apparently, could convince him to do anything she wanted. “I need you.”

His fingers were wet as they skimmed the side of her body, palm grasping her breast before his lips found hers. He tasted sweet and she supposed it was herself, truly, she was tasting on his tongue. He was hurried, his desperation making him sloppy. When his teeth clashed with her own, nipping the sensitive skin of her bottom lip, Gwyn had enough.

“Az—”

“Don’t beg me,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against her own. Caressing her cheek, Azriel added, “I’ll do whatever you want. You don’t have to beg.”

“I feel it,” she replied, running her hand up and down his spine. “It’s a real thread.”

Azriel exhaled with relief, a smile ghosting his pretty face. Whispering something that sounded like gratitude toward the gods, he adjusted his body until she felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against her. How had he stood it? The waiting, the wanting, the utter need that Gwyn was all but drowning in. If they didn’t do this, she thought she might die from it. 

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you.” It wasn’t a request, though Gwyn had no intention of telling him anything. She expected a little pain, expected little pleasure. Why else had he used his mouth first? 

Gwyn had read enough books to know that there was blood and pain and so when Azriel slid himself an inch into her, she braced herself against him, her nails digging into his biceps. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for even a hint of discomfort. There was something reassuring about knowing he’d stop if she wanted. That he cared if she enjoyed herself. 

Gwyn didn’t need a book to know not all males cared about such things.

Azriel took his time—like he knew he had eons of it, that he didn’t have to rush. Gwyn loved him for it, eyes burning with unshed tears at the thought. She’d tell him all this later, when they’d had a chance to breathe and eat and really talk about everything that had otherwise been left unsaid. Instead she dragged her lips down his neck and focused on the feeling of his cock in her body, pushing further and further without any of the accompanying pain she’d expected.

She was slick enough that he felt less like an intrusion and more like a welcomed guest, and once he’d seated himself entirely, it seemed as though they’d been made like two puzzle pieces destined to fit. 

It took a moment to get used to the stretch, to breathe despite the feeling of fullness. Azriel gave it to her instinctively, as if he knew exactly what she both wanted and needed. There was that same sense of I have all the time in the world, despite her knowing he was desperate. A bead of sweat slid from his temple, rolling down his neck and his arms shook from restraint.

He didn’t move. 

Not until her mouth made its way to his collarbone and she whispered, “Give me more.” He groaned loud enough to shatter the silence, pulling himself out with a slowness that bordered on madness. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck. “I’m losing my mind.”

She couldn’t help the exhaled smile, raking her fingers through his hair. “Did you dream of this, too?”

“No,” he admitted with a grunt, sliding his cock back into her body. “I didn’t dare.”

“Why?”

“Couldn’t,” he managed, thrusting again with a little more intensity. “Would have gone crazy from wanting you. Surprised you couldn’t smell it on me.”

As if she would have known what she was smelling. There was no point in telling him so—not as Azriel confessed the depths of his devotion, the lengths he’d gone to give her time, space, and whatever else she’d wanted. Would he have continued to do so forever? 

Gwyn kissed his cheek. “I want you. I want this.”

He groaned again, sliding his hand between their otherwise flushed bodies to rub at her still swollen clit. She’d been half distracted by his words to pay attention to her body but right then, when his thumb began making tight circles, Gwyn was pulled back under the depths of shadowed darkness, half consumed by the male laying on top of her. 

Their mouths met, messy and unrestrained. Strange how kissing merely heightened the pleasure coiling through her—Gwyn wouldn’t have guessed that. In her books, everything was so neat and clinical. They kissed, they touched, they fucked with nothing in between. In real life, sex was messier, more fluid. Or maybe she and Azriel merely had more passion than the people in her stories.

Those love stories had once brought her such joy. Now they seemed dimmed in comparison to what was happening to her and her own feelings. 

“I need to feel you come,” he whispered, betraying how close he must have been. Gwyn felt the same way. She needed to feel him, needed to see him wholly unraveled. All because of her—no one else was allowed to know what he sounded like, what he looked like. They got control, they got the ice but she got the heat, the impulsivity—everything he was, everything he’d ever been. 

Gwyn came to the thought of that future, tightening around him as her back arched her into his chest, offering very little give. Azriel kissed her, swallowing the sound of her moans greedily. They belonged to him, anyway. 

He came mere seconds later, his own noise of pleasure delightfully loud for a male that was so often silent. Gwyn kept herself wrapped tight around him, arms winding against his neck, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. His pumping was erratic, uncontrolled and a little desperate. Gwyn was obsessed with this side of him—wanted more of it.

Azriel didn’t withdraw when he was done, his heart thudding against her breast. “It’s not enough, is it?” she whispered, thinking they both ought to feel sated. She didn’t. In her books, the heroine was always spent, the hero falling asleep not long after. The pair would wake in each other's arms, content and glowing from the night before.

Gwyn wanted to shove him to the floor and climb atop him. Wanted to hear him beg, too—wanted more of the whimpering, the groaning and everything in between.

“It was never going to be,” he panted, kissing her softly. 

“How long will it last?” she wondered, brushing a damp lock of hair from his face.

“Eternity, I imagine,” he replied, his eyes burning with that same unflinching intensity. “For me, at least.”

Gwyn’s heart exploded, racing in her throat. “Are you hungry?” she whispered, deciding she couldn’t wait for the morning. She wanted to do this right now. Wanted him to know that this meant something to her, even if she was scared, too. 

Azriel went still. “There’s no rush—”

“That’s yes or no, Azriel.”

A smile broke over his face. “Starving,” he admitted in that dark, sultry voice. 

“You have to get up,” she reminded him, pushing half-heartedly at his shoulder. Azriel lowered his mouth for another kiss.

“In a minute.”

Strange how a minute could stretch.

Into lifetimes, even.

#gwynriel #I DID IT

[moonlightazriel]

The family we choose /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: It has always been Azriel and Aiden against the world, but what will happen when the new school years begin and his son talks about this amazing teacher every day?

Warnings: None, just fluff cuz why not?

Word Count: 3,1K

Notes: Fucking finally, this has been sitting on my drafts for a while and i love this idea.

Main Masterlist

“DADDY!” Aiden yelled, raising from his spot beside Feyre and rushing to get to him, he lowered to his level and waited for the little boy, he threw himself into his father’s arms, and Azriel wrapped his arms around him, giving him a tight squeeze. 

“Hey, buddy! How was school?” His son rushed back to the table, Feyre, Nyx, and a lot of art supplies were waiting for him, he grabbed a piece of paper and ran back to him to show him the drawing.

“Miss Y/L asked us to draw our family.” Azriel looked closely at the figures, the 6-year-old had done a great job, he could see himself, Cassian, Nesta with a huge pregnant belly, Rhys, Feyre, Nyx, Mor, Emerie, Gwyn, Elain, and Lucien.  

“That’s a beautiful drawing, you have a lot of talent.” He complimented.

“Aunt Feyre helped me make this drawing so I could give it to Miss Y/L, I really hope she likes it.” The flower bouquet was painted on a piece of parchment paper, Feyre had done the drawing but Aiden had painted it. 

“She’s going to love it Den, but why don’t you and Nyx play in the garden while the adults talk?” Feyre suggested as she started to gather the supplies from the table, Aiden looked at Azriel and he nodded, the two boys happily smiled and started to rush outside. “He really loves this teacher.” She said and Azriel got to her side, helping her clean. 

“Did he start with the never-ending rant about how amazing and beautiful she is?” She nodded. “You don’t think he’s projecting the feeling he had for his mother on her, do you?”

“Well, I can’t say for sure Az, Nyx likes her too, a lot, sometimes feels like he likes her more than me.” She giggled, rolling her eyes. “Maybe she’s just a really good teacher and there’s nothing to do with his mom.” Azriel nodded.

He had met Laurie in an Illyrian camp 10 years ago, and it was love at first sight, they lived like a happy couple until she met her mate, and decided that it was a good idea to leave Azriel with their 1-year-old son. 3 years ago, the news of her death reached him in Velaris, it was a tough blow that he wasn’t expecting but he slowly got over it, he had to, for his son. Ever since he does everything he can to make sure that his son is happy, and focused his life on him, even if his family tried to tell him that he should live his life too.

“She’s all he talks about ever since they started the school year, you have no idea how many times he asked if he could pick “Aunt Elain’s beautiful flowers”  to give them to her.” Feyre looked at him and smiled. 

“Let him be Az, it’s probably just a phase.” He nodded.

“Thanks for everything Fey, you’re amazing.” He said giving her a quick hug and kissing her temple.

“Get your hands off my High Lady.” Rhysand spoke with a smile on his face from the doorway. Azriel stepped back with his hands in the air. 

“I’m already on my way, don’t need to get all overprotective.” Rhys playfully slapped his back while he walked outside to get Aiden. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Do you want to eat something?” Azriel asked his son as they walked around Velaris.

“My belly is full Daddy, Miss Y/L brought us the best cookies in the world, she made them.” The toddler happily spoke. “She said that she will teach us how to make them, she’s so nice, I really like her.”

“That’s awesome buddy, you just have to be careful around the fire.” He warned his son.

“Yes Daddy, cuz the fire hurts if we get too close.” He repeated the words Azriel had told him ever since Aiden started to crawl, his son was perfect, and he didn’t want him to be marked like he was, he didn’t need any scars on his perfect brown skin.

Aiden was a copy of him, with the same eyes, the same hair color, the same skin tone, and huge wings behind his back, and even if he could understand his father’s shadows just as perfectly as Azriel did, he had none, at least not yet. 

The two kept walking until they reached the townhouse, Rhys knew how Azriel loved that house and decided to give it to him as a gift, it was good enough for him and Aiden and he was happy that his brother made him the owner, he took good care of that house. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel brushed his wet hair, spraying some perfume on his neck and chest as he got ready for the school meeting, the teachers requested to talk about the student's progress and how the parents could help with their learning. Aiden was already ready, playing in the living room as he readied himself, a simple black shirt, pants, boots, and truth-teller strapped on his thigh, his siphons glowed as he looked at himself in the mirror once again. 

His son was really excited for him to meet his teacher finally, and even Azriel was curious, Aiden had practically dragged him across the street towards the school, the little boy was rambling all the way, and when he saw his cousin, he left Azriel behind to go play with Nyx.

“Someone is super happy.” Rhys said as Az approached him, the two kids were running around now.

“You have no idea.” He replied looking around, the kids were running and most parents just waited for the reunion, Azriel tried to spot who he thought was Miss Y/L, in his mind, he was looking for an old, kind fae, with white hair and granny coats, weren’t all teachers like that after all?

Faes started to come to the parents to lead them to the classrooms, they followed a male as he guided the way, the classroom was decorated with flowers, and kids' drawings, books, and toys were all over the place, and in the corner, in the front part of the classroom a female stood, she was beautiful, her hair was in a braid behind her back, she was wearing a long dress, and she had the prettiest smile in the world, she looked at Azriel and he swore he could see the world shining brighter as she looked at him, she couldn’t be…..

“Miss Y/L!” Aiden yelled, running past them and jumping in the female's arms, she lifted him from the ground, laughing with him.

“Hi Den, did you bring your daddy as I asked?” She spoke, her voice was calm and airy, and hearing her talk made Azriel feel like he was walking on clouds.

“Yup!” The toddler proudly nodded and pointed at Azriel who still stood in the doorway. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/L.” He happily said as the female walked closer to him. 

Of course, everyone in Velaris knew who the Spymaster was, but it was something entirely different seeing him in person for the first time, the tall male was absolutely breathtaking, he was wearing the simplest clothes on earth and yet he looked perfect, the cobalt gems adorning his body, to contain his powers, glowed as he looked her up and down. 

Y/N felt her cheeks getting hot as she approached the male, his eyes still glued to hers, she could feel the sparks of electricity as she held his gaze, extending a hand in his direction.

“I’m Y/N.” She managed to say, her voice more steady than she expected, good!

“Azriel. I’ve heard a lot about you.” The male chuckled and Y/N felt her knees go weak at the sound.

“Oh, i could say the same about you, little Aiden here loves his father more than anything else.” The little boy held his father’s hand while he blushed. “What about you take your Daddy to your seat and we’ll talk more later?” She lowered to Den’s level and he nodded, pulling his father to the empty seat in front of her desk. She went to greet other parents that arrived in the classroom. 

“I wasn’t expecting that AT ALL.” Rhysand spoke as Azriel approached him, Nyx and Aiden sat side by side in class, he smiled at that, loving how close the cousins were like they saw each other as brothers the same way their parents did.

“What?” Rhys gave him a knowing look and he rolled his eyes.

“That she would be this pretty, guess I was expecting an old lady.” Azriel scoffed.

“Don’t let Feyre hear you, or you might sleep on the couch tonight.” Rhysand laughed and the two males looked at her while she spoke about the class progress. One by one, the parents approached her to speak about their children, they were the last ones in the classroom when she came to speak with them.

“High Lord!” She bowed a little. “Thank you two for coming in today. The boys are absolutely wonderful, they’re the top ones in class, but I’m afraid that they have some trouble with maths, I’ve been giving them extra exercises but maybe you two could keep an eye on that, and see why they’re struggling with that.” 

“Of course, do you teach privately?” Rhysand asked, saying that she could teach a thing or two to Azriel in his mind, Azriel slightly shoved the High Lord and Rhysand suppressed a laugh.

“I do! If you need me just contact the school and they will let me know.” She smiled at them, and Azriel felt his chest fill with warmth with that.

“Thanks, Y/N.” He said, and the two said their goodbyes leaving her behind.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel rushed through the school corridors, opening the door to the nurse’s office, he almost fell to his knees as he spotted Y/N sitting in the corner, Aiden was in her lap, he was holding his little arm, and his cheeks were red from crying, his head was resting against her chest and she had her cheek pressed against his forehead, whispering a song to calm him down. The way his son grabbed her like she was the only person that could keep him safe, made Azriel’s heart bleed, the two turned their head to him.

“He fell while playing in the garden, the healer said that his arm just hurts cuz he fell on top of it, it’s not broken, and he’ll be okay. He’s just scared.” Azriel kneeled in front of them, and Den’s puffy red eyes locked with his, he grabbed his son, cradling him to his chest, kissing the top of his head. She still looked worried, like she was about to cry, the only people that worried that much about his son, were his family. 

“Thank you so much for always taking care of him.” His voice was shaken, and the shadows around him still moved frantically, assessing Aiden for any injuries she could not be aware of.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Aiden is a special boy, it’s my pleasure to take care of him.” She said gently, rubbing the toddler's back, Aiden was already sleeping in his father’s arms.

“No modesty please, let me pay you a coffee, I insist.” Azriel didn’t know why, but he wanted her to understand how much he appreciated her for all her care for his son. He could see that she was inclined to accept, so he talked again. “Meet me tomorrow morning at the Oak Alcove, by the Rainbow. At 9!” He said, thanking her once more, grabbing his son’s backpack, and leaving without waiting for an answer, he just hoped she would show up. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N walked between the tables trying to spot the Shadowsinger, she was wearing a simple dress, and she rubbed her sweaty hands in the soft fabric for the third time, she gave another look around before she saw a hand raised in the air, Azriel was wearing leather clothes, the breath got caught in her throat as she looked at him, absolutely beautiful.

“You came.” He smiled at her, getting up to pull the chair for her, she sat, thanking him. She didn’t know if it was just a coincidence, but the Oak Alcove was her favorite coffee shop in Velaris, the soft breeze from the Sidra, the smell of flowers, the soft music, it was a magical place. 

“I did.” She laughed. “ It’s not often that I get to go to my favorite coffee shop for free.” She joked. 

“And here was i, thinking we would split the bill.” He rested a hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt and she liked that, everyone just saw him as a serious and stoic male, which was intimidating, but the way he smiled, a sight that she was sure wasn’t often people saw, made her heart melt. 

Azriel was a pleasant male, the way he softly spoke, his wide knowledge of everything, his passion for literature, he was really much more than the eyes could see. The time flew as they got to know each other better, now she understood why Aiden loved him so much, the Shadowsinger was sweet, gentle, wonderful, her heart skipped a beat every 5 seconds, and she tried to stop blushing like a little girl every time he smiled in her direction.

“This was fun.” She said after he stated that he should leave, he had plans with his son. 

“It was.” He got closer to her as they walked away. He walked her to her house, not far away from the coffee shop. “I was hoping we could do it again if it’s okay for you.” Her heart came to a stop in her chest.

“I would love to, Azriel. See you around.” The way she spoke his name, it was a sweet melody.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“She’s wonderful.” He said, stretching his wings, the glass of liquor dancing in between his fingers, Rhysand smiled and Cassian entered the office. 

“What’s happening?” Rhys served him a glass as well.

“Azzie here is in love with Den’s teacher.” Cassian whispered a “NO WAY!” shuffling his onyx hair, making Azriel growl at him.

“I’m not in love with her.” He sipped on his drink. “Yet!” The trio laughed. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel knew he was wrapped around her fingers when he kept going to the school every day, just to see her smile, just like his son, he would bring her flowers, he would take her out, after suffering because of Laurie, he was ready to open his heart again, especially for someone like her, she was perfect for him and he was ready to take their relationship to the next level. 

“Where are you going daddy?” Aiden asked as Azriel fixed his tie in the mirror.

“I’m going out with Mrs.Y/L, you like her, right?” He pulled his son closer.

“Yes, she’s amazing.”

“Would you like it if she was Daddy’s girlfriend?” His little eyebrows furred and he looked confused.

“Will she be my mommy?” The words shattered his heart and he swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling his eyes burn, he knew Aiden probably missed his mother, he noticed how he would look to Feyre when Nyx called her mommy, Azriel knew he wanted, craved that too, and broke his heart not be able to give that to his son.

“Maybe in the future buddy, if she wants to.” His son nodded and Azriel fixed his hair, he dropped Den in the River House before meeting Y/N for dinner, the bouquet Elain prepared for him was almost slipping from his shaking fingers, Y/n was already there waiting for him, she smiled, getting up to greet him with a quick kiss, they shared their first kiss after their fifth date, and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself ever since, her lips were sweet and she fitted so perfectly against him, she was made for him. 

“I want to ask you something.” Azriel had been building up the courage all night, Y/N dropped her spoon, her lips smudged with chocolate and he smiled at her, she was beautiful. “Will you be my girlfriend?” She almost jumped from her seat as she shook her head agreeing, he took her home that night, where they made love until sunrise. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Mrs. Mommy I need help.” Aiden’s voice sounded from somewhere behind her and she immediately turned around, seeing him shaking the glitter off his tiny fingers. Az had mentioned what happened between him and Den’s mom, and how he knew his son wanted a  mother, she just didn’t expect that.

“Hi Den, what do you need?” He showed her his fingers glued together.

“My fingers are sticky.” She guided him to the sink.

“Let’s wash it then.” She said, then releasing the kids to their break. Azriel showed up like he did almost every day, he was holding a cup of coffee and some cookies for her.

“Hey love, what’s wrong?” He kissed her cheek and closed the door.

“Aiden called me mommy today. Mrs.Mommy to be precise.” She giggled a little.

“Shit.” Azriel didn’t want to pressure her to assume a motherly role to Den, but he also couldn’t exactly control these kinds of things. “I can talk to him if you want, tell him that you’re not his mom. He’ll understand.”

“I just don’t want him to be confused, I don’t know.” He hugged her. “I love him, just as much as I love you. Maybe tell him not to do it at school? Cuz the principal is already fuming that we’re dating.” He smiled.

“Maybe she’s jealous.” He joked and she laughed, she loved them really much. And her heart clenched hearing Den call her mommy. Maybe they could make this whole thing work.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You can’t catch me.” Aiden smirked, as Cassian chased him and Nyx, they were at a picnic with the inner circle, and Y/N was more than welcomed among them, they really liked her, she was getting really close to Feyre, the two were watching as the general pretended to be slower than the children. Den rushed to her, jumping on her lap and hiding from Cassian, while Azriel watched from afar. She looked at him, and it was like the whole world had come to a stop, she was the only thing holding him on earth, he had always assumed he was just lucky to have found someone so similar to him, and now he understood that it wasn’t luck, she was perfect for him because she was made for him, his mate, his equal, the love of his life. 

She blinked too overwhelmed as she explored the newly found bond between them, she had suspected for a while that he might be her mate, she had hoped and she had prayed to the Mother that she was right, and there it was, glowing like a thousand suns, the mating bond tying them to each other for the eternity, finally everything was complete for them. 

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel #sarahjmaas #azriel x reader #shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #night court #velaris #moonlightazriel #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acomaf

[readychilledwine]

The Extra Mile

Summary - Rhysand has never failed to surprise you for your birthday, and he's not going to start now.

A/N - enjoy this drabble before the big bang tomorrow 💜 baby daddy and I are spending the day together and giving into ALL of my cravings today 🥹🥹🥹 ps peep the inspiration dress at the end of the drabble. I DROOLED.

You stretched, feeling over to your mate's side of the bed and pouting when you felt it was empty. You were used to him having to leave early in the mornings, but typically he woke you up for a quick kiss goodbye or a fast round of morning sex before slipping out from the covers and taking care of his duties.

But today was special, and he normally didn't do anything besides worship you on your birthday. You sighed, chalking it up to this being the first year you two could celebrate since he left for the mountain, since Feyre had been made, and the war with Hybern, maybe between all of that, he had forgotten.

You sat up, wrapping the satin sheets around your body and went to walk to the closet, only for a tendril of darkness to grab your wrist and pull you to the bathroom instead. "Did your master send you?" It seemed to nod, gently guiding you to a warm bubble bath. A bottle of wine sat near the edge, waiting for you to pop the cork along with a tray filled with grapes, cheeses, and a note in Rhysand's graceful scrollwork.

You smiled as the darkness swirled your naked body before disappearing with an almost kiss-like feeling on your cheek and temple. You leaned against the wall of the tub, opening the letter. You looked over to the side where the dress he mentioned in it was hanging. It was, of course, a beautiful piece made by his mother. It was, shockingly, a deep crimson red velvet gown with long sleeves, it had a rounded neckline and you could see what appeared to be chains and gems adorning what appeared to be an open back.

You heard the door open and another wine glass appeared. "Well, hello y/n darling." You smiled to Rhys, leaning your head against the tub and instantly moved so he could join you. "How was training?"

He sighed, stripping himself of his leather bottoms in an almost slow teasing manner. "Gwyn disarmed Azriel, Nesta beat Cassian in a hand on hand spar, Emerie let me teach her a new archery tip and trick to help her with drawback and aim. I'm very proud of them." You smiled at his sparkling eyes. "Emerie especially. You should be very proud of her."

"I am every day. Thank you for bringing her here." He nodded, getting in behind you and pulling you into his arms. "What's the plan for today?"

Rhysand poured you both a glass of wine, handing you yours and taking his. "Well, since this is the first year your birthday has been calm in years, I thought maybe we should enjoy a day shopping in Winter." He smirked behind his hand as you seemed to almost begin to glow in anticipation. "Then we will have dinner with Kal and Viv, because your sister asked if I would share you this year." The water began to splash lightly as your shoulders danced. "Then," he drawled out, "Kal has kindly volunteered to let us enjoy the weekend in your family's cabin, just us. No work. No worries. Perhaps, no clothing."

That was the final queue, you quickly turned yourself in his arms, hugging him tightly. "Does that sound good, darling? I know it isn't an extravagant party like Beron forces Lady Autumn to endure."

You nodded, eyes watering slightly, "It's perfect, Rhys. Just absolutely perfectly."

Isn't. This. Stunning?

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys x you #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhys x y/n

[glossamerfaerie]

One aspect of Gwynriel that really excites me is religion. The other protagonists don’t seem to take religion or rituals very seriously? Everyone respects the Mother and acknowledges her power (and the Cauldron), but we haven’t explored faith among the fae. Feyre has a terrible experience with Ianthe (a sadly accurate depiction of corruption within organized religion). But we know that not all priestesses are like power-hungry Ianthe. Nesta is understandably indifferent even though she later has an experience with the Mother during Nyx’s birth. Rhys and Cassian seem respectful but we’ve never seen them pray or attend services. It’s giving “only attending church during Christmas” level of religious commitment.

Azriel, on the other hand… we haven’t had much canon insight in his head, but I firmly believe that Azriel is more religious than his brothers. Like he’s not the type to attend temple services, but he probably thinks about faith and the Mother regularly. Clearly he has contemplated mating bonds and who creates them — maybe he’s prayed for a mating bond? Maybe his mother raised him to be more religious. In HOFAS, after Nesta takes the mask off in a close call, Az’s very first instinct is to thank the Mother. Possibly that is meaningless (like how an atheist can say “thank god”) but idk. Az seems to have more faith than his brothers.

“The Mask fell from Nesta’s face, clattering on the stone.

Nesta swayed, but Azriel was there, catching her, bringing her to his chest, scarred hands stroking her hair. “Thank the Mother,” he breathed. “Thank the Mother.”

A few chapters later, Az describes the Cauldron and what happens after death.

“Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?”

“The Cauldron,” Azriel amended. Bryce shook her head, not understanding. “You don’t have stories of it in your world? The Fae didn’t bring that tradition with them?”

Bryce surveyed the giant cauldron. “No. We have five gods, but no cauldron. What does it do?”

“All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.”

Later in the conversation, Az explains what happens to souls after death.

“When you die, where do your souls go?” Did they even believe in the concept of a soul? Maybe she should have led with that.

But Azriel said softly, “They return to the Mother, where they rest in joy within her heart until she finds another purpose for us. Another life or world to live in.”

The way Az talks about the Mother, with reverence and confidence, makes me certain that he’s more religious than his brothers.

Then, of course, we have Gwyn — a literal priestess who was raised in a temple. She still attends daily services and sings for the choir. I’ve wondered if what happened in Sangravah shook Gwyn’s faith. Maybe she thinks the Mother exists but isn’t a benevolent deity. Maybe she’s bitter that the Mother didn’t save her servants from Hybern attacks. She definitely feels shame and unworthiness — Gwyn no longer feels like she has a right to wear the Invoking Stone. Working through those feelings will be a major aspect of Gwyn’s arc.

“You asked me once why I don’t wear the hood or the Invoking Stone. That stone is a sign of holiness. How can someone like me wear it?”

Within the temple, Gwyn also faces prejudice and discrimination from her fellow sisters. Ianthe isn’t the only asshole within the organization (cough Merrill cough). I’m sure that some people in Sangravah were cruel to Gwyn’s family because of their nymph heritage. I don’t know what SJM has planned, but I feel that religion will play a major role in the Gwynriel book. I wouldn’t be surprised that, like Nesta, Gwyn has a firsthand experience with the Mother. She will definitely use the blue invoking stone for healing (a nice parallel to Az’s blue siphons).

“It’s an Invoking Stone.” Gwyn unfurled her fingers, revealing the gem within her hand. “Similar to the Siphons of the Illyrians, except that the power of the Mother flows through it. We cannot use it for harm, only healing and protection. It was shielding us.”

I’m also curious to see Gwyn and Az discuss their religious beliefs together. Maybe Az gets permission to join the dawn and dusk services. The man barely sleeps, he might as well watch Gwyn during her religious commitments. The shadows are NOT going to pass a chance to hear their girl sing (or watch her glow). Maybe Nesta can talk Az into singing with the choir. 🥹

Nesta could only gape at the lovely melody, the voices from the front of the cavern leading it, lifting higher than the others. Gwyn sang, chin high, a faint glow seeming to radiate from her. The music was pure, ancient, by turns whispering and bold, one moment like a tendril of mist, the next like a gilded ray of light. It finished, and Merrill spoke about the Mother and the Cauldron and the land and sun and water. She spoke of blessings and dreams and hope. Of mercy and love and growth.

Idk, maybe I’m wrong about Az being religious. But it feels like such a wasted opportunity if we don’t learn more about the Mother! At the very least, I do see Az attending the dawn and dusk services if he’s not on a mission. 🎼🩵🎶

#gwynriel #my acotar thoughts #pro gwyn #gwyneth berdara #azriel #gwyn x azriel #nesta archeron #hofas spoilers #house of flame and shadow #acotar #a court of silver flames

[thalunalovegood]

I’m on my Gwynriel era (been here since 2021 🤓)

So, I’m here thinking about them, and how they will challenge each other, make a lot of bets, make inside jokes, they have so much potential to grown together and heal together.

Look at this, they are so beautiful 🥹

[I hope the artist don’t mind, I found the fanart on Pinterest]

So here a few things that I think will happen, or I would like to see/read in their book.

I said here once, but I would to see that the shadows talk to Gwyn, I know we don't have evidence yet, but I think when Gwyn ask Az if he can sing it was because maybe she heard something, and the way she smiled to them (you can't tell me the shadows aren't the captain of the ship, and don't give me "it's good for Az if they left him", it's BS, the shadows are part of him)

Bets. We know they both are competitive:

Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.” Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.”

“Az had let his brother boast. Especially since Azriel had been planning his own victory for a year now.”

Encouraging. They will push each other to their best version, to recognize that they both deserve good things.

Chemistry. All their interactions are so good, and funny, they have a really strong set up. If they talking it's like this, can you imagine they flirting to each other?

“I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days. Azriel laughed. — I'll give you that. Gwyn smiled broadly. — Thank you.”

Opening. Gwyn is comfortable around Az, he isn't self-conscious around her, so they will be able to talk to each other without their past, traumas get the best of them. [Don't give me the "she is a SA survivor speech", she is, but she isn't her trauma, and she can have everything she likes, she reads smut books, and she isn't a child.]

Spying together. Az is the spy master, and Gwyn showed abilities to become one.

She smiled crookedly at Nesta. “I kept to the trees the first two nights, watching the beasts, and I spotted that horrible male and his companions this morning. Saw they’d found my nightgown and displayed it, and I knew they were hunting for you. I thought I’d take them out before they could find you.” “You led the beast right to them.” “I learned where the beasts sleep during the day,” Gwyn said. “And that they get very angry when awoken.”

Gwyn and Az have so much potential, if you see the details, the songs references, the spark, the glow, all of this is used to describe a match bond, anyway, I'm here for them, I can't wait to read their story.

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason… he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

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

[ravencoloredroses]

Jealousy

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is tired of pinning after Az when he’s fallen for 3 different girls and none of them are her.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual talk

Word Count: 1,658

A/N: This one is based on this ask! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!!

———————————————————————————

I’ve known the Inner Circle of the Night Court for centuries, some think of me as an honorary member. Mor and I grew up together, I’ve known her my whole life. When she finally invited me to Velaris, I met him. Azriel, a.k.a the spymaster, and Mother, was he perfect. The only problem was he was hopelessly in love with my best friend.

As the years went on I fell hopelessly in love with him. I would cherish every moment we spent together. I thought he was starting to get over Mor, and that maybe he could be interested in me. But then the Archeron sisters showed up.

Watching Rhys and Cassian fall for their mates was amazing to watch. Feyre and Nesta were perfect matches for them. I could tell Elain liked Az, I mean who wouldn’t. What was hard was watching him fall for her.

Everyday was torture. I knew Az would never like me the way I like him, but it was still hard.

Now with Mor and Elain out of the picture, Gwyn has waltzed in. The problem with that was that she is so damn nice, I can’t hate her no matter how hard I try. She would be perfect for him and it’s obvious she thinks so too.

As we sit down for family dinner, I leave a seat open next to me for Az to sit. Of course he doesn’t, he chooses to sit next to Gwyn who gives him googly eyes every time he walks by.

Mor ends up sitting next to me and gives me a sad smile. I told her years ago about my feelings for Azriel. She tried to convince me to confess to him, but I didn’t want to ruin what friendship we had left.

Az and I used to train with each other every morning. After the war, I thought that would continue, but now he trains with Gwyn. He hardly talks to me anymore, barely looks at me.

I try my best to concentrate on eating, but I hear giggles coming from Gwyn. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Az giggles back. He actually giggles at her.

I stab my fork into my steak a little too hard, causing the whole table to look up at me, including him.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Rhys asks me.

I clear my throat and look down at my plate. “Yeah, everything’s wonderful.” I spit out. Now I remember I’m not hungry, so I stand up and head up to my room.

When I walk past Azriel, I see him trying to get my attention but I keep on walking.

Laying down on my bed, I hear a soft knock on my door.

“Y/N? Can I come in?” Mor asks quietly. When I don’t respond she slowly opens the door. “Wanna go out to Rita’s?”

“What?” I ask, dumbfounded. “How is Rita's your solution to everything?”

She laughs as she sits down next to me. “Because it works. Now come on Missy. Let’s go find you a one night stand.”

I look up at her with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“You heard me!” She pulls me up and walks me over to my closet. “You need to clear your mind for a night. Let loose. Oh! This dress is perfect!” She turns to me holding up a skimpy black dress.

“Mor…. I can’t wear that.”

“Sure you can! You just have to unzip the back, then step into it, put your arms through the holes and then boom! You’re wearing it!” She laughs and hands me the dress. “I’ll leave you to change. Meet me in my room so I can do your makeup!” She yells over her shoulder before shutting the door. Great looks like I’m going to Rita’s.

When I look at myself in Mor’s mirror, I almost can’t recognize myself. “Woah. I look….”

“I believe the word you are looking for is hot. You look hot!” Mor did my makeup perfectly, nothing too crazy, just enough to bring out my features. The dress she picked out is a perfect fit. It hugs all my curves beautifully and shows just the right amount of cleavage. It also has an open back and ends just above my knees.

“Alright!! Let’s go have some fun!” Mor grabs ahold of my hand before winnowing us over to Rita’s.

It’s not as packed as I thought it was going to be, but it’s still really busy. “What about that guy over there?” Mor yells over the loud music. She’s been pointing out potential hookups since we got here. This one she’s pointing to is already looking over at us. “OMG he’s coming over to you! Act cool.”

“Hello ladies. You look like you could use a dancing partner.” The male says to me, holding his hand out. I look over to Mor and see that she’s already gone, of course she is..

I turn back to my new dance partner and grab onto his hand as he pulls me to the dance floor. I’m trying not to focus on how low his hand is as we sway to the music.

“What’s your name?” He asks as a slower song starts to play.

“Y/N. What’s yours?”

“Nikolas.” He responds, I place my hands around his neck as we lean into each other a bit more. “Well Y/N, how about we get out of here, head back to my place?”

“I’d like that.” I look up and give him a smile. He takes one of my hands and leads me towards the door, and I look around to find Mor. I finally find her by the bar and she gives me a wink before turning back to her drink.

As we step outside, I shiver a little bit because of the cold. Nikolas takes off his jacket and places it around my shoulders, leaving his hand there as well. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He asks.

I look up at him and he leans down and kisses me. For a second I just stand there, but then I kiss him back and wrap my arms around his neck. I begin playing with his hair as he lifts me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist.

“Nikolas,” I say when we break for a breath. “I’m on a tonic.”

“Me too.” He replies. We go back to kissing and then I feel a gust of wind behind me. Nikolas lets go of my legs and I drop to the ground.

“What the fuck?” I hear Nikolas yell at someone. I look up and see Azriel pushing Nikolas up against a wall. Shadows are wrapped too tight around his neck. I can see his face turning purple.

“You do not touch her, do not look at her, do not even think about her. Got it?” Az grits his teeth. “She is mine. And if I ever see you near her again, I will gut you out and wrap your intestines around a flagpole.” Az finishes as he pushes Nikolas down on the ground. He gets up quickly and runs away.

“Az, what the fuck?” I yell out. He turns to face me and I can see that he is still fuming. “What the hell do you mean I’m yours?” I ask when I finally comprehend what he just said.

His eyes soften as he starts to walk closer. “I- I love you Y/N. I have for a while.” He whispers.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I ask, taking a step back. “You- you love me? But- But what about Gwyn?”

“What about Gwyn?” He counters. “It’s you that I want, it’s always been you.” He closes the distance between us and moves a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Cassian told me everything.”

“Cassian? But….. Mor must have told him.” I look down in embarrassment. He lifts my head up with a finger under my chin.

“I’m sorry I’ve been too stupid to notice. I thought that since you are best friends with Mor, that you wouldn’t like me for pinning after her.” He confesses. “I wanted to tell you how I felt before the war, but then everything happened and the timing was never right.”

“So you’re not dating Gwyn?”

“No! I never dated Gwyn. She’s a nice female, but she’s just a friend.”

“And Elain?”

He sighs. “I thought I liked Elain, but I figured out I just liked the fact that she liked me. I like you Y/N, I choose you. If you’ll have me.” He cups my cheek.

“Azriel, of course I’ll have you. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” He wipes away one of my tears.

“Why are you crying then?”

“Because,” I sniffle. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“It’s happening.” He leans in closer. “Y/N? Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

His lips feel even better than I’ve ever imagined they would. It’s like we were molded for each other. The kiss is saying everything we can’t with words. I feel his love for me and I can tell he feels mine back.

When we break away for air, he leans his forehead on mine. I jump when someone behind us suddenly starts clapping. Az holds me close as we look over to our audience.

“That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen in my entire existence.” Cassian fake cries. “And to think, it’s all because of me!”

Rhys grabs a box of tissues out of thin air and hands it over to Cas. “Here brother, you look like you need these.” He laughs. Cassian takes one from the box and loudly blows his nose. I laugh and look back up to Az. He looks down at me, also laughing.

“Well, my love, would you like to go home?”

“Yes, please.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel #cassian #feyre #mor #nesta #rhys #Rhysand #Elain #Gwyn #shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader

[starsreminisce]

One of these things is not like the other! One of these things is not the same! Can you guess which one it is?

Cassian on Nesta:

“Here I was,” Nesta said, a pillar of ice and steel beside the hearth, “thinking I heard you flapping around for ten minutes. It must have been a pigeon stuck in one of the chimneys.” Cassian just stared at her. She stared at him. His temper rose with dizzying speed at the words, the absurd perfection of her. A blade given form—that’s what she was. He smiled, slow and vicious, precisely in the way he’d learned made her see red. A smile that he knew instantly unsheathed those lovely claws of hers. “Hello, Nesta. Nice to see you.”

Rhys on Feyre:

His eyes danced with feline amusement. “Cruel, beautiful thing.” I snorted. The idea that he found me beautiful at all— “You are,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I thought that from the first moment I saw you on Calanmai.” And it was stupid, stupid for beauty to mean anything at all, but … My eyes burned. “Which is good,” he added, “because you thought I was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen. So it makes us even.”

Lucien on Elain:

But sunlight on gold caught his eye—and Elain slowly turned from her vigil at the window. He had not seen her entire face since that day in Hybern. Then, it had been drawn and terrified, then utterly blank and numb, her hair plastered to her head, her lips blue with cold and shock. Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

Azriel on Gwyn:

He wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but... "Fine. Thank you."   Clotho's pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her. Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to  the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it.  But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. 

Azriel on Elain:

It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching.  Wrong -- it was so wrong.   He didn't care.   He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue --    Azriel's cock strained behind his pants, aching so fiercely he could hardly think. He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent.   He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night.  Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep. How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make.

Stumped? Need a hint? Fine, I'll give you the answer. The only time Azriel thought about how beautiful Elain was when he considered having sex with her. And the extremely thoughtful present he had for Elain? He could clearly envision how Gwyn's specific eye color would react when she received it.

It's a romantasy. The falling in love is the meat and potatoes of the plot.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #antie/riel #antielriel #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #feysand #nessian

[acourtofthought]

Lol your lengthy posts are going to be hilarious to read once Azriel and Elain's book is announced. Sjm had elriel and nessian on her mind since acomaf and Lucien is the sole reason she introduced Vassa. She even gave them a name in acowar, "A bird of flame … and a lord of fire.". Her reiterating, "not much has changed from that initial pitch" is not the confirmation eluciens and gwynriels think it is.

"A Lord of Fire" they say.

"Made for Vassa" they say.

Nessian:

Quinlar:

Jassa:

(and no, Lucien is not jealous, he's annoyed at once again being stuck between lovers quarreling).

More often than not when SJM uses "at each other's throats", it's a sign of romance between two characters. Especially for two unattached humans who share the same vision for the humans they are both trying to lead. SJM telling us that Lucien often has to play mediator and break up the arguments between Jurian and Vassa doesn't really hint at much fire between Vassa and Lucien. So very odd for a "bird of flame and a lord of fire, don't you think?" 🤷.

I like Vassa but she doesn't seem to give a shit about the fae when Lucien clearly does as he goes back and forth between the human lands, the NC and Spring and she.... stays in the human lands. Claiming they're endgame because Feyre gave them a "nickname" while ignoring that a book later she acknowledges that Vassa and Jurian are Lucien's friends .....probably the actual reason she introduced Vassa to Lucien's storyline. You're really missing the forest from the trees on that ship. Also, if Vassa is Lucien's endgame and "the sole reason" she was introduced then isn't it fair to say Gwyn being Az's endgame is the sole reason she was introduced?

I love a good laugh and I've got no problems laughing at myself if I'm wrong.

Something tells me I'm not going to have to in this case I though.

But I do thank you, as an E/riel for dedicating so much of your time to reading my lengthy posts. It's really quite kind of you.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #anti e/riel #pro lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien and elain #pro elain archeron #pro jassa #jassa

[danikamariewrites]

Taking Care of Her

Nesta x reader

A/n: just a small fic about taking care of mommy nesta inspired by @i-am-a-lost-girl16’s headcanons she sent me a while ago

Warnings: slight mdlg and fluff

Nesta had been wound far too tight since she returned from the Day Court. You knew the Valkyries were working with Helion’s guard on something for the court borders.

Honestly you couldn’t be bothered with the details. Your brain would not comprehend it.

Plus, Nesta liked when you knew less. “Your pretty little brain shouldn’t worry unless I tell you too, baby.” She would say, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

You had let her sleep in this morning. For once giving Nes princess treatment instead of you. She needed a break from everything. You wanted Nesta to not have anything on her mind.

Leaving a note next to the pastry breakfast and coffee you laid out for her you headed out into Velaris. Your goal for the day: pamper Nesta.

You stopped at all of her favorite shops. Buying a new stack of romance books, the biggest box of chocolates the shop had to offer, and stuff for a spa night. Your last stop was Feyre’s studio. You had asked the High Lady for an arts and craft activity the two of you could do and she suggested friendship bracelets. Something she loves to do with Gwyn and Emerie. The two had made you the kit before going up to Emerie’s for the weekend. After thanking Feyre you left making one last stop for lunch on the way home.

Entering the house you can feel how tense Nesta is. “Nes,” you call out sweetly. You’re met with silence as you call out again for your girlfriend. Creeping into the kitchen you hear the familiar beats of Nesta’s fists against the punching bag in the backyard.

Dropping all the bags on the table you rush outside to check on her. Approaching slowly, but loudly as to not startle her, you clear your throat. Keeping your arms folded tights against your midsection.

Nesta whipped around. Her hair sticking to her sweaty face, chest heaving as she calmed down from her workout. Realizing it’s you standing in front of her Nesta dropped her fists, her expression becoming friendlier. You knew she didn’t want you to worry about her but that’s your job.

“Hey baby,” she cooed through deep breaths. “Where did you go this morning? I wanted to have breakfast with you.” You give Nesta a small smile as you take one of her wrapped hands in yours.

“I know you’ve been stressed and I want us to relax today.” Before Nesta could say no you cut her off, “I’m not suggesting you relax Nes, I’m telling you. I am taking care of you today. Ok mommy,” you coo at her, giving her those doe eyes you know she can’t resist. You start undoing the wrappings and kiss Nesta’s knuckles before doing the same to her other hand.

Pulling Nesta inside you unbox lunch and stand at the island eating your sandwiches together, talking about mindless gossip. You pulled her upstairs for a bath, sitting her in the tub between your legs.

“Baby, you don’t have to do this. I should be taking care of you.” You let out a sigh, tugging on her hair to force her to relax against your chest. Nesta can punish you for that another day. “Hush, mommy. I want to do this for you because I love you.” You kiss the top of her head for emphasis, wrapping your arms around her shoulders.

After the bath you put on your matching bathrobes and snack on the chocolates while you make bracelets for each other. Wearing your new bracelets you snuggle on the couch and Nesta reads one of her new books to you. She plays with your hair as you lay on her lap.

Once the sun sets you pull Nesta upstairs for the last step of your relaxing day. You adjust the pillows so you each have a comfy spot. “You first,” you smirk at Nesta, straddling her lap. Gently washing her face, giving her small kisses in between steps. Nesta flips you, giving you a fierce kiss that takes your breath away. Pulling away Nesta has a shit eating grin on her face. “Your turn,” she whispers.

With your face masks on and a glass of wine in hand you feed each other what's left of the chocolates. “I love seeing you relaxed.” You whisper, staring at your mate lovingly. Nesta leans over to give you a small kiss. “Thank you, sweet girl. For everything today.”

“I’d do anything for you mommy. I know you would for me.” Nesta kisses you again, “Let’s get these off. I wanna go to bed and snuggle with my baby.” You let out an excited sound and scramble out of bed.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #nesta archeron #nesta x you #nesta x reader #nesta archeron x you #nesta archeron x reader #nesta acotar #nesta acosf #nesta archeron acotar #nesta fic #nesta fluff #nesta fanfic

[theladyofbloodshed]

SJM Romance Week - Day 6 - Romantic Gestures

@sjmromanceweek When a grouchy man starts haunting her coffee shop, Nesta's romantic gestures come in the form of insults on his coffee cups.

A drizzle had misted the glass and as the world darkened, the yellow streetlights were blurs on the other side.

At the opening of the door, a brisk wind blew in. The man it carried with it was sharp-faced in a finely made dark pea-coat with an umber and orange patterned scarf tucked into it. It contrasted starkly with his red hair and pale complexion.

Emerie nudged Nesta in the ribs: target acquired.

He’d turned up a couple of days ago, coming after the evening rush and poor Gwyn had the displeasure of serving him. His first coffee had apparently been too cool despite being close to scalding. Then he’d summoned Emerie to wipe his table despite the evidence of the previous wiping still evaporating as he sat down. Nesta would handle him today. The best part of her day was to offer up the same rudeness that was given to her friends.

‘Yes?’

The man’s odd, amber eyes snapped from the signage to her. ‘Black coffee.’

Of course, he had needed to scan the entire menu for that difficult choice. Nesta ensured he could see how hot the water pouring from the machine was lest he complain that the temperature wasn’t warm enough.

‘Anything else?’

‘A little bit of customer service wouldn’t go amiss.’

Nesta shrugged one shoulder in response. ‘When you rediscover your manners.’

He stalked away to pounce on one of the vacant, highly-popular armchairs tucked away amongst the tall shelves. It was slow that evening; they were staying open later, trying to offer an alternative to bars for the non-drinkers, but it hadn’t quite taken off the ground.

There was no need to do it, but when his coffee was ready, rather than deliver it – as she might do for anybody else – Nesta called out, ‘Black coffee for the man with no manners.’

Emerie was wide-eyed. He’d reduced Gwyn to a stuttering mess when he’d pressed her for the details of suppliers for their snacks and refrigerated drinks. Emerie had simply called him a dick at the end of her shift when she got home.

To Nesta’s surprise, he pulled himself away from his book to saunter to the counter.

‘Thanks.’ His eyes glanced at her cleavage then noticed there was no name tag pinned there. There was a slight flush to his cheeks when he realised that he’d simply looked at her breasts.

‘Want my name to complain to the manager?’

His brows raised. ‘Not interested in your name.’

‘Oh, just my breasts.’

The man didn’t dignify her with a response, merely took his coffee then strolled back to his table, plucking a different book off the shelf as he went.

‘His name is Eris,’ supplied Emerie.

‘His name is a pain in my ass.’

As the evening wore on, the shop became more subdued. With only four people left – a group of three plus a solitary Eris – Nesta ushered Emerie home for the evening.

‘I don’t like you walking home alone so late,’ she complained.

Nesta held out Emerie’s jacket to help her into it. ‘Well, I like my dinner cooking when I return home, wife.’

‘You wish.’

‘Sometimes I do,’ she replied.

Emerie leaned back against the counter, arms folded. ‘It’s Gwyn’s turn to cook tonight.’

‘Get home, immediately.’

She gave a laugh and tossed her dark braid over her shoulder. ‘If there’s anything left of the house. If a fire truck is there when I get home, I’ll call.’

‘Such a beautiful woman but she cannot cook for shit,’ said Nesta with a shake of her head.

Emerie placed a hand on her heart. ‘Thank goodness she’s got us. See you at home. Be safe. Call me if you need.’

When the group left, Eris called her over with a beckon of his fingers as if she was a hound.

‘Can I get a camomile tea?’

Nesta gestured to the counter on the other side of the store. ‘Have your legs stopped working?’

Eris gave a pinched smile in return. ‘You don’t seem particularly rushed off your feet.’

That was true, she’d give him that. Nesta swept an imaginary cap through the air, collected his cup then set to brewing a tea for him – and one for her. She dimmed the lights in the coffee shop although the candles were still illuminating the tables and soft lights were on in the bookshop area. It had been an idea that had come as a result of burnout in corporate life. She’d climbed the ladder almost ruthlessly, soaring to the top, giving hour after hour to her job then her sister almost died in childbirth and she’d not seen Feyre for nearly her entire pregnancy. Work always took precedent. After that, it felt pointless. Her life revolved around work and she didn’t enjoy a single moment. Nobody ever woke up with the dream of spending twelve hours a day in an office. With the money she had been hoarding, Nesta lived her dream. Maybe it was a little dream, but she made the place she wanted; a cosy bookshop with good coffee and better cakes. It wasn’t a fortune maker, but Nesta loved it. Emerie and Gwyn worked with her to help out in its first few months of existence, but it was going well. Nesta had made something that she was proud of.

When she carried the tea over, Eris had swapped books. She knew that merging a coffee shop with a book shop would result in patrons reading while they drank, but it wasn’t a library – so she told him as much.

‘What if I chose one book and only read that when I’m in here?’

‘Again, not a library.’

A shrug was offered, but that shrug gave her pause because she’d been there before, been that person without a spark. As Nesta went through the motions of cleaning out the coffee machine and washing up the last few mugs, her eyes continually flickered to Eris. He hardly read the book in his hands. His eyes kept drifting to the wall then he’d skip a page or two and try to focus like his heart wasn’t in it. Not once did Nesta see his attention stray to his phone. He was somewhere else – a bad break-up maybe plaguing his thoughts.

Taking pity, Nesta plated up the last few sugary items – the three of them wouldn’t shrivel up and die if they didn’t polish off the stock for once – and set them down on his table with a paper bag.

‘Yours, if you want.’

‘Oh.’

‘Thank you, Nesta. You are welcome. There, manners.’

There was an elfin quality to his face like the bones of his face was sharper, more pointed than others. ‘Your name is Nesta?’

‘No, the other person working right now.’

Her sarcasm usually cut the skin, but Eris snickered. ‘Thanks, Nesta.’

By the time he left, Emerie was blowing up her phone with calls asking why she wasn’t home yet along with a picture of the charred dinner Gwyn had made then a message asking her to pick something up on the way home for them to eat. She’d stayed open later than usual because she felt too guilty to kick Eris out when his mind seemed occupied elsewhere. He’d thanked her again before he left along with returning his plate and mug to the counter – and a hefty tip that she was not expecting.

***

Eris came in every single day that week. He’d stand, stormy-faced in the queue, awaiting his black coffee. Depending how snappy or short he was, depended what name she scrawled on his cup. Grumpy man in the coat. Man who looks like a drowned rat. Mr. Miserable. He never took much offence by it, just raised his brows, paid for his drink then stalked over to the books to sit alone. By Friday, Nesta began preparing his coffee the moment he came in from the rain. When his lips parted, she pressed the cup into his hands. Eris scanned the writing on the receipt.

Mr Can’t-even-crack-a-smile-on-a-Friday.

‘I’m going to touch your newest books with greasy fingers.’

‘You wouldn’t dare,’ she said.

His lips quirked. ‘Try me.’

When he retreated to his favourite corner, Emerie cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me.’

‘You may be excused,’ replied Nesta.

She rolled up a tea towel and whipped Nesta across the thigh. ‘What’s that? Were you flirting?’

Her jaw dropped. ‘That was not flirting. That was me warning a customer that if he ruins a book, I will beat him with it.’

Emerie gave a slow nod, not believing it for a moment. ‘I wish I had that shield. I go home feeling bad if a customer is rude. Gwyn cries. You grow more powerful.’

‘When they ask to speak to the manager, I hit them with the uno reverse card.’

Once the coffee shop had cleared out, Nesta was left alone again with Eris. Like the previous nights, he was unsettled. No book truly held his focus.

‘Camomile tea and a brownie. If you get crumbs on the books, I will bill you for the damage.’

‘This music is awful,’ he said, not tearing his attention from the novel – although she’d been watching and this was the most focused that he’d been all evening so it was likely a façade.

‘Take it up with the manager,’ she replied.

‘I wish I could,’ he muttered.

While he drank, Nesta changed the window display. New stock had arrived that morning so she was eager to have it on show ready for the morning. Through it all, Eris murmured that a book was wonky or the colour schemes clashed.

‘Would you like to do it?’

‘Not particularly,’ he replied, sipping at his tea – but for once there was some life behind his eyes, a slight brightness that hadn’t been there all week. ‘What time does this place close?’

Nesta mimed looking at an imaginary watch on her wrist. ‘Oh, about seventeen minutes ago.’

Eris screwed up his face. ‘I thought you’d be eager to kick me out.’

‘It’s a Friday night. You’re a young, presumably single, handsome man. If this is the only place you have to go on a Friday night then I feel bad to kick you out.’

‘Well, I sound pathetic.’ He drained his tea. ‘Sorry. Your boss won’t be mad?’

‘Yeah. She’s a bitch. Don’t mess with her.’

Surprising her entirely, Eris asked if there was anything he could help with to ease the lock up process. She’d already put the day’s takings in the safe, so she handed him a cloth and spray to wipe down the tables again. Dutifully, he set to the task.

‘You after a job?’

Eris gave one low chuckle. ‘I have a job.’

This was a man that she simply could not work out. From the exterior, he seemed sour and irritable, but he took her sniped words and parried them back.

Even when Nesta locked up the door, Eris remained nearby, watching over her shoulder as revellers began to emerge for the night and stumbled down the pavements.

‘Can I give you a ride?’ He gestured to the rain then pointed to a car worth more than any she’d ever sat in before. It was a massive, gas-guzzling beast that could plough down anything in its path. If the four horsemen of the apocalypse upgraded from horses to vehicles, it would be this one.

‘I don’t make a habit of getting in cars with strange men. Goodnight.’

It was a twenty-minute walk, fifteen if she moved her legs a little quicker to avoid the drunken idiots staggering around the streets. Nesta zipped her coat to her chin then steeled herself for the walk.

Eris turned his car around and she heard it roaring behind her.

It crawled along the road beside her, keeping pace with her walking.

‘If you won’t accept a ride then I can at least make sure you get home safely this way.’

‘You’d be so cut up if something happened to me,’ she scoffed. ‘We’re strangers.’

‘True,’ Eris admitted, an arm resting on the wound-down window. ‘But it's difficult to find a decent cup of coffee around here.’

Each night, Eris had given a generous tip to the pot which was at odds with his prickly demeanour. He could continue to come and be miserable if a fat tip was pushed into the jar at the end of it all.

Nesta made a tutting noise. ‘Will you stop this? You make me look like a woman of the night, driving along beside me and calling out the window.’

‘Ah, a jezebel,’ he said with a laugh. ‘It’s pouring. I’ll drop you off. Get in.’

She slipped her phone from her pocket and hastily flung a badly typed text into the group chat telling them she was in the car with Eris and shared her location. At the sensation of the heated seats, Nesta eased out a satisfied noise. The car was not what she expected on the inside. A blanket was strewn across the back seats and it was covered in muddy pawprints and dog hair. More of it was on the upholstery.

‘You have a dog?’

‘Uh. Yeah. I did,’ he replied, face tightening. ‘Tell me the way.’

‘I’ll give you five stars if you don’t talk to me,’ she quipped but the sadness had already leaked into his expression like those first couple of nights that he’d come to the shop. Maybe not a break up at all.

In a silence that was only interrupted by her directions, Eris drove her home. He was a good driver, never speeding, never taking risks despite the engine that thrummed with power. At the house, he pulled up.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Nesta nodded. ‘Sure. Eight 'til eight tomorrow, but we have shorter hours on Sundays.’

‘Thanks for the heads up.’

Her fingers stilled on the door handle. ‘Are you alright? You’re spending every evening until close in a coffee shop. Don’t you have a home to go to?’

‘Yeah. I don’t want to be there,’ he said without expanding on it. ‘Goodnight Nesta.’

***

That weekend, they continued their strange dance. Nesta called out orders for the dude with the stick up his ass, the guy who needs to get a library card, and the neat freak who keeps re-arranging the books. Each time, Eris sauntered to the counter or waved his hand through the air expecting table service, not at all bothered by her insults.

‘You’re definitely flirting,’ murmured Emerie as she hung up her apron for the afternoon.

‘I’m harassing him,’ countered Nesta.

Gwyn shook her head. ‘He seems to like it.’

Eris was sprawled out in a chair, shoes off, socked-feet resting on the chair opposite as he read. A cookie had chunks bitten out of it sporadically as he remembered its existence. He looked well and truly at home in the alcove cut into the wall. It was Nesta’s favourite part of the shop – the main reason she’d purchased the building. They’d pinned a lattice to the wall and wound fake ivy and fairy lights through it to make it something special.

‘Are we kicking him out to close?’

Nesta chewed on her lip. ‘I feel guilty every time. He’s got nowhere else to go.’

‘It’s not a shelter for waifs and strays. It’s a business,’ said Emerie.

Sunday was meant to be a chill out day with the coffee shop closing just after lunch to at least give Nesta a little bit of free time away from it. Eris seemed far too cosy to turf him out. She convinced Em and Gwyn to go on ahead in the gloomy weather and she’d catch up. Then, Nesta plopped down on the stool beside Eris.

‘Closing time?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

Eris heaved a sigh as he closed the book.

‘You know you can buy the books,’ she said, raising a brow. ‘That’s how we make money.’

‘Sorry. Tell your boss I enjoy the ambience too much.’

She gave him a half-sigh. ‘I am the boss.’

He reached back to the shelf to slide the book – a fantasy one – back into its place. ‘I was wondering why the manager put the grumpiest member of staff on every single day.’

Nesta choked on a laugh. ‘Me, grumpy? You have an aura like a sad, wet cat around you. It sucks me in like a black hole. That’s why I stay away.’

Eris slipped his long feet back into his shoes and tied up the laces. He wasn’t particularly dressed down for a weekend. All of his clothes screamed money.

‘So, what’s the story? Why do you spend every minute here?’ Nesta scanned him from head to toe. ‘Bad break up? Don’t want to pay for heating at your own home?’

‘I just don’t want to be there.’

Under her piercing stare, Eris crumbled. He pulled his phone from his pocket and slid it across to her. She was expecting a gorgeous woman there or a cute couple’s photo. Instead, Nesta was met with a massive, black dog with masses of shiny fur.

‘My boy,’ said Eris, wincing as he spoke. ‘Fifteen years old. Put to sleep last week.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s so quiet at home. I can’t bear to get rid of his bed – or that blanket in the car.’ Eris shook his head. ‘I know, just a dog. Get over it.’

Nesta clenched her teeth together then, ‘That’s not true. Fifteen years is a long time to love something. It’s natural to grieve a pet. Sorry for insulting you for the last few days. If I knew there was a reason for this mood, I’d have left you be.’

‘It’s alright. It was fun. I just needed a place that was open late so I didn’t have to go home. Then I found you. Your insults stopped me feeling sorry for myself.’

His words, though not deep, still had her heart giving a flutter. ‘I’ve still got to kick you out, I’m afraid.’

Eris dipped his chin then buttoned up his coat. He carried his own tray to the sink and loaded the items onto the dishwasher because he was practised enough with the closing routine.

‘Black coffee tomorrow for the dog lover?’

‘Ask your manager when you can get the night off.’

‘Drop me home and you can talk to her.’

#neris #sjmromanceweek2024 #sjmromanceweek

[foxylady13]

Azriel and The Necklace

This is his reaction to putting the necklace on Elain:

He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin.

It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching.

Wrong -- it was so wrong.  

He ends their interaction with saying their *almost* kiss was a mistake and clearly hurt Elain. He then finds the necklace in his gift pile the next morning. Which, to me, signals Elain rejecting Azriel and putting a stop to anything else between them.

This is the ending of the bonus chapter when he leaves the necklace with Clotho to give to Gwyn:

Clotho says: She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring her. And what do we have after her saying this?

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it though as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace.... for whatever reason he could see it.

But Azriel tucked the thought away, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image deep down, where it glowed quietly.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

Which interaction has more positive connections attached to it? Which interaction leaves Azriel picturing how another woman eyes would light upon seeing it and has to consciously erase the slight smile it brings to his face? Which interaction has Azriel tucking the image away deep down where it glows quietly? Which interaction leaves Azriel with a happier feeling?

Now let's take a look at the necklace itself because it's interesting how the necklace is described.

The golden necklace seemed ordinary. It's chain unremarkable. The amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. Small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white.

Let's dissect this for both Elain and Gwyn because I believe this necklace is a metaphor for who Azriel will *actually* end up with.

Elain - Elain mentions that needs Sunshine. She is mated to Lucien, the son of Helion who rules over the Day Court. The sun has golden rays, much like the necklace is golden. I believe that when she is with Lucien, her mate, her true depth will shine through.

And while yes, Azriel gave her a necklace that has a rose attached to it because she gardens, it's also described as ordinary and unremarkable so is it really that special of a gift for Elain and shows he knows her? When Lucien, her mate, has given her enchanted gloves that would protect her while she gardens and pearl earrings after she's worn pearl combs in her hair? And she's kept the gifts from her mate whereas once again she gave back the necklace.

Gwyn - She has coppery colored hair (or you know a redhead) which fits with the color within the charm. She glows when she sings and her inner light shines through, much like how the colors shine through when the charm glows. Gwyn can also put the charm on her bracelet and know one would know given it can be dismissed as an everyday charm.

The ending of the Bonus Chapter ends with Azriel thinking of Gwyn receiving the necklace and tucks the image deep down where it glows quietly. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. <----- this last part is quite significant and can't be easily dismissed given the connotations and how the necklace itself is described.

All in all, I truly believe Sarah has made it clear who Azriel love interest will be. She used the necklace itself to show us this and also how she worded things throughout the bonus chapter.

#pro elucien #pro gwynriel #gwynriel #elucien #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #acosf #gwynriel supremacy #elucien endgame #gwynriel endgame #elucien supremacy #lucien and elain #azriel and gwyn #gwyn x azriel #elain x lucien #they are endgame and you can't tell me differently

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Crazy Stupid Love pt. 2

type: angsty, fluffy warning(s): curse words word count: 2.3k summary: as it has been requested, here is part two for CSL

–all rights reserved–

“We should talk.”

The words still hollow through your mind, his voice, the deep tenor reverberating through your body. You cannot meet his gaze. Your eyes are focused on fingers, toying with the skin around your nails. 

“Azriel.” Her chin held high, Elain looks down her nose at the shadowsinger. She deigns him only this short glance, before getting up and her linking her arm with Lucien’s, leading him towards the door. “If you need me, or us, call, but we will give you some space now,” the middle Archeron sister tells you, looking at you over her shoulder. A warm, thankful smile spreads over your face and you give your head a little nod. “Thank you,” you whisper which she returns with an assuring smile.

They depart, closing the door behind them and you want a hole in the ground to appear and suck you in. You can barely stand the tension in the room and think that the moment Azriel sits down next to you he is not breathing, somehow feeling as uneasy as you are. 

For a long moment —one could almost cut the tension with a knife— neither of you says anything. It is calm—too calm and you feel like your are getting suffocated. Luckily, Azriel ends the dreadful silence, speaking up, his voice shaky, his hands trembling in his lap.

“Why did you leave so abruptly?”

Ugh, out of all questions he has to ask this. Obviously, you would have asked the same. Still you hate it and ponder for a moment, searching in your brain to find the right words to say. 

“I just wanted to get out for a bit,” you say, lips pressed in a thin line and a gloomy and not at all convincing expression on your face. 

“Right…” Azriel cocks a brow and pins you with his lock. You want to get out, heat spreading over your skin. You feel so exposed under his gaze, like he is looking right into your soul. “So abruptly?”

“Yes, felt right.” You clamp your lips together, jealousy bubbling up inside of you when you think back at the morning and the thoughts you had this morning. Him and Gwyn. You wonder if they have met again since you have left. Maybe they are official now and that is why he is here? To tell you? And ask you to go on a mission probably? 

Oh yeah, he is probably here because he needs you to start working again.

“I will start working again tomorrow, if that is why you are here.” You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and find yourself lost in the rich hazel, the warmth and depth. You swallow around the lump in your throat but hold his gaze. An expression, you cannot quite place, spreads over Azriel's face, his brows furrowed slightly. 

“That is not why I came here.” Something like hurt, like what you said has been an accusations, flickers in his eyes, a muscle in his jaw flexing. 

“Why then?” The words about being worried about you burn on Azriel’s tongue but he does not say them. Why? He doesn’t know himself. Maybe he does not want to be so straightforward.

“Because you left so abruptly.”

You shrug a shoulder, deliberating for a moment if you should call for Elain so she could rescue you from this incredibly uncomfortable situation. But that would not be fair. It would not be fair for Azriel who has come here just for you. 

You are just about to say that you just needed some time away from the court because of stress or something when Azriel opens up a bit and reveals a part of the darkness inside of him. His words are like a fist that curls around your heart, squeezing. 

“I am an Illyrian brute and I thought I might hurt you by touching you in the wrong place during training the day before you left. Or maybe it has been something about my closeness and me invading your personal space. I don’t know what the Illyrian fuckers did to you in the war camp, so I was worried I would be just like those Windhaven blokes.” A shudder courses through you, memories of what they did to you flashing in front of you vision. But how could Azriel even think he is like them? Never in the world.

“I let you touch me, Azriel!” you argue quickly and shoot him an assuring smile he only hesitantly accepts. “That was fine and it is not the reason I left.” Shifting on the couch, the shadowsinger’s knee brushes your thigh and moves closer. "Please, I don’t want anything to be between us. If I did something wrong, tell me.” “I saw you with Gwyn.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop then and you quickly smack your hands over your mouth, colour blooming high on her cheeks. Gods!

It takes a small moment but when realisation dawns on the spymaster, he cocks a brow and a smirk appears on his lips. “You are jealous?”

“No!” you quickly shoot back, feeling your skin prickle and heat practically radiate from your whole body. “Of course not.” “But you left because you say Gwyn and me?” Cockiness laces his features, his whole demeanor actually and you want to punch him. Punch him right in his silly yet so terribly handsome face.

“No.” “You just said that.” His brow raises even higher when the shadowsinger leans closer.

“Did I?”

To that Azriel makes the most dramatic eye roll possible and groans loudly before moving his hand over his face and wiping it down. “Y/N.” “Yes, maybe…maybe I was jealous.” 

The cockiness disappearing from his features, Azriel’s looks to the side for a moment, seeming like pondering about something. “Why?”

What a stupid question, you think but don’t say. 

“Because I saw you laugh together and I thought you are together. Are you?”

“Gwyn and I?”

You throw up your hands in despair. “No, you and Cassian. Of course you and Gwyn, gods!”

Your cheeks must be a beetroot red when sweat breaks out on the back of your neck. 

It is the silly half smile that appears on his on the shadowsinger’s face that makes you want to punch him and fuels the fire inside of you. Why does he smile? Why does you being embarrassed make him?

“Gwyn and I are not dating, we talked and laughed. She told me about her date the previous evening,” Azriel informs you and it is now that you really want for the floor to suck you in. You just want to disappear. 

You part your lips to say something, but have no idea of what actually. What should you answer? That you are a fool? Probably. 

Azriel takes it from you and speaks up before you. “I was looking for you the whole evening.”

His expression turns gloomy, stern and frustrated when he searches your gaze and finally locks it with yours. “I was waiting for you. I wanted to spend Starfall with you.”

That hurts. And it hurts a lot. His pain leaves a tangy taste at the back of your mouth, stretching out and letting the air around you drop at least five degrees. 

“I am sorry.” “Don't be. It was a silly believe that you would want to spend Starfall with me.”

You reach for his hands so quickly, it is beyond him. You have never had a problem with touching his hands, never looked at them weirdly, always accepted him the way he is. That has always meant a lot to him and still does. Azriel looks down at your hands holding his and back up to your eyes. 

“I wanted to spend Starfall with you as well, but then…” “Then you saw me with Gwyn. I am sorry for hurting you.” “Don’t be.” 

There is a small smile playing on Az’s lips, his eyes glowing a little brighter. “Don’t steal my words.”

You giggle lightly and tug at his hands, bringing him closer to you. “I am not mad at you, I was just disappointed and sad, alright?”

“It really has nothing to do with me being an Illyrian brute?” Azriel says with a sad expression. 

“You are not!” you argue and shake your head.

“Are you really sure?” Azriel queries, releasing a gloomy sigh and direction his gaze towards the window behind you. “Remember what I said to you when we first met?” 

A small grimace appears on Azriel’s face, but he chuckles, nudging you with his knee. He remembers, the words imprinted on his heart and mind since then. 

With warmth filling your cheeks, you meet his gaze. “You are not an Illyrian brute like them, I said and meant it. I knew this in the first moment. And I never changed my mind about it.” “But I am an Illyrian.” “And I am fae, yes, this is what we were born as. But what we are born as does not define who we are, our actions do.” You take Az’s hand into yours, gazes still locked. “And you with all your actions have shown me nothing but kindness and love.” “I upset you.”

“You did not.” “The morning after Starfall, how abruptly you left to come here?” Azriel raises his brow, worry lacing his features. 

“You didn’t upset me.” “I did,” Azriel answers, a sad smile appearing on his face while he pulls you to him. Your hands are against his chest, his face suddenly so close to yours. “Tell me what you were upset about.” Not a question, a command. 

You smile sheepishly, giving your head a little shake. “No.” “Yes.” Azriel says and a cocky smirk appears on his lips, like he knows what it was about.

“No.” The shadowsinger pulls you even closer.

“I will fire you if you don’t tell me.” “You can't fire me,” you retort, trying to glower. 

“I can, watch me: Y/N you are fired.” You removed one hand from his hold and swat at his shoulder. “I am your best spy, this is your loss.” His eyes fill with warmth and some emotion you cannot quite place. He inhales a deep breath and lowers his head. “It truly would be my loss. Not only because you are truly my best spy, but also—” Azriel pauses, lifting his gaze to yours, one hand coming up so he can brush a strand of hair out of your face, the other still holding your hand. “Because I would not be able to see you that often. I couldn’t stand that. It already broke my heart now when you left.”

Your throat dries out the same moment your heart explodes and your eyes widen. “You…?” “Yes, yes, I…”

You raise a brow, waiting for him to continue. His features soften when he leans in and brushes his lisp over your cheek. The gesture seems so out of place, but feels so good, it has you giggling. And release a little gasp when he tips his head back, looking at you with his stunning hazel eyes. “I am in love with you.”

“But…” “What but?”

“I work for you,” you say in calm voice, lowering your gaze to your hands. 

A gloomy sigh leaves the spymaster. “And in how far is that a problem?”

“Won’t it make things weird between us?”

“Why?”

“Because I work for you!?” You say and raise your brows, flashing him an incredulous look. Stupid question, you want to say once again. Luckily you rationality stops you before you open your mouth.

“And? You will keep working for me and the only thing that changes that after work we will go home together, kiss, hug, make love and wake up in each others’ arms.” He grins and it must have been the most beautiful thing you have ever seen in your life, eyes of hazel aglow, teeth white, his whole face lighting up. 

“I…”

“You don’t want that?” His grin starts to vanish the moment the words leave his mouth.

“I do. I really do. I am in love with you as well. A lot, since so long.” His arm wraps around your waist, bringing you closer. “Good,” he says, leaning in, the two of you breathing the same air. You close the distance between the two of you, lips brushing his when you whisper, “Good.”

The moment your lips connect a relieved groan leaves Azriel and every tension vanishes from your body. You don’t really know if it is him pulling you over or if you climb onto his lap one your own, but when your hands move into his hair, your hips meet his, his own hands falling to your waist, you know that you two fit perfectly. 

What has started slowly and in an exploring way soon turns into something more, something hungrier and something more passionate. It is a tangle of tongues, the clashing of teeth, moans and sighs being swallowed by the other, two souls that have been yearning and longing for each other for so long, finally united. You tag on some strands when you bury your hand in the hair at the back of his neck, eliciting a low groan from him that has your thighs clenching. 

His chest heaving with deep inhales and panting, Azriel pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths when he stares at you with puffy and parted lips. “Fuck.” “Indeed,” you giggle and lean forward, grinning while leaning our forehead against his chin. 

Azriel kisses your forehead, his scarred hand moving up and down your back, softly stroking you through your shirt. “So we give this a chance?”

You kiss the base of his neck, before closing your mouth over his again. This has to be answer enough. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @cityofidek @moony-thoughts-blog @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @shadowcrowsworld @a-little-disguised @percyjacksonspeen 

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #acotar #acosf

[moonlightazriel]

More than friends /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: “Hi. I wanted to request an Az fic where he and reader are friends with benefits and reader get’s jealous of his “friendship” with Elain and thinks Az is using her. But everything ends happily.”

Warnings: Some mentions of smut, some angst and of course, some fluff

Word Count: 1,9K

Notes: I was dealing with some writing block, i wasn't able to write a single line, but now things are feeling a little better. Thank you anon for this amazing request!! 🖤🖤

Main Masterlist

"You are sooo funny." My ears perked up, the words followed by the sound of Elain's airy laughter, my eyes instinctively turned to their direction, the sight of her hand perfectly placed on his shoulder, her slim body inclined towards him, she blinked innocently at him, her brown hair falling on her back, she smelled like fresh grass.

He was standing in the corner, near the weapon station, his muscular chest pressed up against his leathers, his wings resting comfortably behind his back, his black inky hair a little above his eyes and a beautiful smile plastered on his face.

I couldn't help the pang in my chest as jealousy washed over me, my hand gripping harder on the wooden handle of the morning star, the anger building up quickly as the way he smiled at her kept replaying on my mind. I shifted my feet, gaining more stability, the weapon spinning in the air, hitting Gwyn's shield with more strength than i intended.

The redhead looked at me, and i whispered an apology at her, the embarrassment tainting my cheeks red, she turned her head, looking behind her and watching the same scene and turning back to me, giving me and apologetic look, i shrugged, it didn't matter anyway.

I was in love with him, way before he started looking at me differently, seeing me as a real female and not just another one in the inner circle, he was the one approaching me at Rita's one night, saying that he couldn't stop thinking about me, the way he touched me that night got me addicted to him, wishing to be with him every second, and that's why i decided to accept the whole friends with benefits thing.

But things between us were just sex, he was excellent at it, i wasn't able to remember how many times he made me see stars with his tongue, his touch burned my skin in the bests of the ways, his cock fit me just right, every curve of our bodies fit so perfectly right against each other that looked like the Mother herself sculpted us, a perfect match made by the Mother and the Cauldron.

I spent countless nights on my bed, holding his pillow, feeling his scent and wishing that he for once, would stay with me, cried myself to sleep on an empty apartment feeling hollow inside, wishing that something changed inside him, i didn't needed to be his mate, i just wanted to be the one he loved.

But i wasn't the one he would look at with an stare filled with love, i wasn't the one he would seek comfort with, the one he would run to whenever he got back from a mission, it was never me, he only had eyes for her and that broke my heart little by little everyday.

I have been always aware of how close they were, but that didn't matter late at night when he held me in his arms, telling me how beautiful i was, my heart didn't paid any mind to anything when i was with him, intoxicated by his scent and his presence, my mind filled with him every damn moment.

Things were starting to reach a breaking point when the intrusive thoughts creeped up on my mind, spreading like poison and ruining every good moment i ever shared with him, late at night when i would sit by my window and watch him leave they would tell me that he was just using me, it was easier to him, having me as some sort of pity prize when he couldn't have Elain.

I screamed in surprise, the throbbing pain on my forehead and the warmth of the blood running down the side of my face, i have been too distracted to see Gwyn's sword flying in my direction, it was a folly mistake, a blow i could've easily dodged, i cursed feeling even more angry.

"Y/N i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to hit you." Gwyn sounded desperate, her voice felt distant as i tried to focus again, everything seemed blurry and dizzy as i struggled to get up.

"It's fine, i'm okay." I tried to reassure her, my voice sounding a little muffled by the buzz on my ears, the commotion brought the attention to us, everyone was gathered around us, it was hard to breath with them so close, my emotions getting the best of me as i tried to get out of there. My eyes were finally able to focus on something, and it was on Azriel's figure finally turning to see what was happening as he was too distracted talking to Elain to notice. "I just need some air."

The wave of anxiety made me push everyone out of the way as i rushed towards the ten thousand steps from the House of wind. I ran and kept running until my legs protested and i fell on the steps, i didn't know how many i have walked and i just stayed there, with my knees against my chest, trying to breath and to stop the fucking tears.

I was trying to focus on the words Gwyn have taughed us all those months ago. "I am the rock against which the surf crashes, nothing can break me." I repeated the words to myself again and again until my head felt lighter and the tears had dried out.

"Six thousand steps on a frenzy, that's really impressive." Azriel's voice sounded somewhere behind me but i didn't even bother to turn, his boots hit the stone floor as he moved to sit by my side, a first aid kit slowly placed on the floor. "Can you at least look at me?" He plead and i sighed, my eyes glued on the floor as i turned to him.

His soft hand caressed my cheek, his thumb and index holding my chin as he lifted my head and forced me to look at him, as we locked eyes, i could see something deep in there, the same pained look i was obligated to stare at as i looked in the mirror every morning, it was like seeing my own reflection. I felt like i could breath again when he turned my face to the side, examining the injure on my forehead.

He was quick to prepare the things to clean it, his hands rubbing the spot with a piece of cotton soaked in alcohol, i hissed at the contact, the stinging pain forcing me to shut my eyes, squeezing them shut as he worked on me.

"It's funny how every time you get hurt it feels like it's my fault." He laughed humorlessly and my heart clenched, i suppressed the urge to close myself, we needed to talk, i couldn't keep letting him break my heart.

"You can't be blamed for my feelings." I shrugged as he cleaned the dried blood from my face.

"And what feelings are we talking about?" I focused on the stairs, trying to avoid looking directly at him.

"The jealousy and the self pity consuming my mind every time i think about the fact that i fell in love with someone who's in love with another female. " I simply said, i was too tired to pretend everything was fine. Azriel went still, his hand stopped rubbing the cotton on my face, i turned to him, he was looking at me intensely, like i had just stabbed him or something. "I would appreciate if you stopped looking at me like you didn't know i was in fucking love with you."

"Do you think that if i had any idea that you felt this way we would be in this situation right now?" I felt genuinely confused at this point.

"Well, it felt obvious to me that you did know, i just assumed that you didn't care." I tried brushing it off and look away but Azriel stopped me, his long fingers holding my head in place.

"Why i wouldn't care that the female i love is also in love with me?"

"Azriel, don't do this." I plead and he rose an eyebrow. "It's clearly that you have feeling for Elain, don't pretend that you have been in love with me all along, i don't need this kind of pity, you know this better than anyone."

"I'm not pretending anything, yes, i admit, I've been closer to Elain but it's just because i was asking for her help on how to tell you that i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you. I just didn't know how to tell you that you are all i can think about, that i want to stay with you, i want to go to your apartment and cook for you, help you fix that damn broken door, fill your wardrobe with my things and make myself at home in your couch. I didn't know how to tell you that i want to scream at the top of Ramiel for the whole world to hear that you have my heart, it belongs to you ever since you first spared a glance in my direction."

My breath was caught in my throat and my mind was racing with so many thoughts at once, i squeezed my eyes shut once more, feeling the hot tears falling on my face. I waited for this moment for so long, pictured that it would be a late at night conversation after sex, everything would be perfect but this couldn't be any far from what i have envisioned but it didn't make it any less perfect. My heart slammed violently against my sternum, so loud that i bet he could hear it too.

"She's my friend, and that's all she will ever be, i never saw her more than this and never will because i only have eyes for you." I opened my eyes, unable to speak i throwed myself at him, my lips slamming against his, the kiss was messy, i could taste the salty tears, the mint in his breath and the slightly iron taste of the blood but it was the most passionate kiss i ever shared with someone.

"I'm sorry for acting like this, i should've just talked to you instead of acting like a jealous freak." He giggled a little, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "What do you think about us finishing those steps and going home?"

"I would like that very much." He inclined his head on my direction, kissing me again, more gently this time. "Are you already calling your apartment my house?" He said while helped me getting up, the sound of our feet hitting the stone floor was loud as we walked towards the exit.

"Of course, you will be moving right now since i don't want to be apart anytime soon." He laughed, whispering that he didn't want that either. As we walked, my head started to hurt again. "At least this damn wound helped us get together, cuz this hurts like hell."

"Oh baby, don't worry about that, i will take a very good care of you once we get home." He said, kissing my head and my heart squeezed at his words, a small smile making itself on my lips as all the negative thoughts got shut down, suppressed by all the love pouring out of my heart for the male in front of me.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x reader #sarahjmaas #shadowsinger #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #fluff #moonlightazriel