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milswrites · 3 months

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Hobbies Part 3.

~Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: Tiny bit of angst and sadness. Light injury (nothing too bad)

“Why is it whenever you come to my door you’re always dressed so strangely?”

Azriel has had four blissfully peaceful days since the training session with Y/N . He knew she would turn up again at some point, having promised she’d come back and make him try something new.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly looking forward to spending time with Y/N again, he just assumed it was due to the fact that life in the Day Court for him was awfully dull. At least he now knew where the training grounds were and found most of his time was now spent there. Still just himself for company, he had now adopted his regular pre-sabbatical training routine and he had even been on a few late night flights, the need to stretch his wings too much to deny.

Azriel would also be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting on Y/N’s arrival at his flat once more. A shadow constantly waiting by his front door, even when he was out of his flat, to ensure that he would always know when she was waiting outside to meet him.

That’s what lead him to where he was now.

He had been outside, busy at the training ground and focussed on practicing a very difficult drill with his daggers, when the small wisp of one of his shadows came flying into the arena causing him to immediately stop what he was doing.

‘She’s here’ it told him ‘she’s waiting for you’.

At once Azriel sheathed his daggers and took off flying. Speeding towards the direction of his flat. Not wanting Y/N to know he had left a shadow at the door, purely with the intention of alerting him of her presence, Azriel squeezed himself through his open window. A window which definitely had not been built with the intention of a large Illyrian male squeezing through it but Azriel would rather suffer through the embarrassment of having to contort his body and drag himself through, rather than be faced with Y/N’s teasing grin at the fact he had been expecting her and rushed back to greet her.

After managing to crawl through his window, landing on the floor with a bang he prayed she didn’t hear, Azriel rushed to the door hoping Y/N was still there and hadn’t left having waited too long for a response.

Taking in a deep breath to try and return his breathing to normal, Azriel opened the door. He was met yet again with Y/N standing there, grin on your face, in another totally ridiculous outfit.

“What do you mean strange?” Y/N whined dramatically, hand placed over her heart as if his words hurt. Of course this wasn’t the case as the smile on her face had transformed into a smirk, clearly she was expecting him to say that, “Clearly you’ve never seen Day Court riding attire before.”

“Riding?! Like horses?!”

“No Azriel, riding like dragons, yes of course we’re riding horses!”

Azriel was now sure Rhysand had sent Y/N to torture him as punishment for what he did. He had never been on a horse and had absolutely no no intention of ever being on one. The small trace of excitement he had at the prospect of Y/N returning to his flat with a new hobby for him to try had completely left his mind. Azriel now in a mood and frankly he was slightly scared by the prospect of him on a horse.

“What a shame, I actually have plans for today” he shrugged mock-sympathetic look on his face as he attempted to pull his door to before Y/N could convince him otherwise. Something he was certain she would be able to do with little more than a smile.

“Hold on batboy,” Y/N chuckled, hand reaching out to grab the door before he could close it, “I did something you like, you’re going to do something I like. Deals the deal.”

“We didn’t make a deal” Azriel tried to reason, eyes focussed down the hallway of the flat so to avoid looking into her wide, begging ones that were no doubt staring at him.

“Yes we did”

“No we didn’t”

“Yes we- oh for mother’s sake Azriel! I thought you Illyrians were meant to be honest males!”

At this Azriel couldn’t help but release a barking laugh, “Sweetheart I don’t know what you think you know about Illyrians but that is most definitely wrong.”

“Oh well just…please Azriel,” as she said this Y/N softly moved one of her hands to rest on Azriel’s arm that was holding onto the door, “it would mean a lot to me.”

Azriel’s gaze flickered to where her hand rested on him, jaw clenching as his felt his control slip.

“Isn’t there something else you want to do?”

There wasn’t. Azriel had given in and now he found himself face to face with an overly skittish horse, clearly not a fan of his large wings. Y/N was already up on her horse, beaming down at Azriel as she waited patiently for him to mount.

Tentatively, he took a step towards the horse Y/N had selected for him to ride, pulling his wings in hoping that it would be less intimidating, the animal immediately shuffled backwards nervously.

“Y/N I don’t think this is a good idea” Azriel said turning towards the woman who was clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Giggling, she hopped off of her horse before walking over to Azriel and grabbing his hand. Not expecting this, Azriel flinched and yanked his hand away from her grip turning his head away from her, not wanting to see her disgust as she took in the mangled state of his hands.

“What are you doing?” He tried to snap at her but the words came out more unsure and shaky.

“Azriel”, Y/N spoke, drawing his eyes back to her kind face, “it’s ok, look.” With that Y/N took his hand again, her hold light as if giving him the chance to pull away again if he wanted to. Trusting her, Azriel exhaled and watched as she brought his scarred hand to his horses side moving it up and down in a gentle stroke, action calming the anxious mare.

Y/N’s hand lingered over his for a while, caught in the moment before she pulled away. Slow enough that Azriel was reassured it was not because of the marred skin of his hands. The back of his hand still tingling from where she had touched him.

“See?” She spoke softly, eyes slightly glazed. Azriel could have sworn he saw her shake her head a little, bringing herself back from wherever her mind had wandered to, before she took a step back away from his body, creating distance between them.

“Do you need help getting on?”

Neglecting a verbal response, Azriel shook his head, hand still pressed to the side of the horse where she had placed it. He knew the logistics over getting on a horse he had just never tried to before. Awkwardly, he placed his foot in the stirrup before pushing himself up and bringing his other leg over so he was sat on the horse. He made sure to lift his wings and spread them out a little to avoid them touching the horses back in fear their unfamiliar presence may cause him to get bucked off.

Azriel was sure of two things. One, he looked like an absolute idiot on this horse and if Cassian could see him now he would never let Azriel live it down. And two, Y/N was enjoying his struggle and obvious distaste for animals a little too much.

As they plodded along a dirt path outside of the city, Azriel kept a miserable eye on Y/N who wasn’t afraid to let out a loud cackle every time he showed any sign of stiffness or discomfort.

“Hanging in all right bat boy?” She grinned as Azriel released a groan, no one ever told him how much riding a horse hurt your backside.

“Is this supposed to be enjoyable? This can’t actually be your hobby” he mumbled, shifting on the back of his horse to try and find some semblance of comfort for his rear.

“It’s not,” Y/N replied, “never actually been on a horse before either, I had to beg Helion to let me borrow these from his stable.”

Her comment made Azriel pull on the reins tightly until his horse came to a stop, Y/N still moving on ahead, “What do you mean you’ve never been on a horse? The whole reason I’m here is because you said we were going to do something you like!”

“Hm no I don’t recall saying that” Y/N turned her head over her shoulder, flashing Azriel a cheeky grin before facing forward once more. He huffed and did his best to get his horse moving again, this taking a few attempts, riding along until he was side by side with Y/N.

“So why are we doing this instead of dress shopping or gossiping over some tea?”

Y/N gasped playfully, “Dear me Azriel, you can’t truly believe my hobbies would be something as mundane as shopping or talking. I never took you for a gossip though, that’s good to know”

“Well you seem to do too much of that” Huffed Azriel under his breath.

“Besides, consider this payback”

“Payback?”

“For training the other day, can’t think I’m going to let you flip me onto the floor and get away with it”

And with that Y/N pulled off into a gallop down the dirt track, flying away from Azriel, her laugh hanging in the air, his heart fluttering at the sound. Competitive spirit stirring, and a weird need to impress Y/N, Azriel urged his horse to move faster in an attempt to outrace Y/N who already had a very large head start.

This wasn’t Azriel’s smartest idea as it wasn’t long before he felt the reins slip from his grasp and the next thing he knew he was falling off the back of his horse with a startled yelp. His body and wings scraping against the ground as he made contact, rolling to a stop, horse running off into the distance.

Groaning, Azriel just laid there, hands on his face in exasperation. The sound of hooves coming closer forced him to sit up, watching a panicked Y/N canter towards him, his horse in tow. She hopped off her own, worry evident in her face, and ran to Azriel.

“Cauldron are you ok?!!” She dropped to her knees, grabbing his face in the palm of her hands and scanning him over for injuries. Azriel brushed her off of him, embarrassed at the events that had transpired.

“If this is your idea of payback it definitely worked, think I ended up a lot worse off than you did though”

Y/N broke out into laughter, a sound so sweet and inviting that Azriel couldn’t help but join along. The two of them sat on the ground, dirt on their clothes, laughing hysterically until tears filled their eyes and they couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Let’s do something a little less high risk next time yeah?” Azriel says when his breath returns to normal, his smile had gone, it left with the last laugh that had escaped his mouth, but his cheeks still sweetly stung from the memory of it all the same.

“You mean you still want to keep hanging out with me?” Y/N was joking, but Azriel could still see the trace of insecurity in her eyes that she had blown her shot, that Azriel wouldn’t want to see her anymore after forcing him along on this disastrous trip. He wanted to comfort her, take her hand and tell her that he wasn’t going anywhere. But it was Azriel’s rogue emotions that brought him to this court in the first place and he wasn’t going to allow them to mess anything else up. Azriel called back his shadows that were swirling around them both playfully, thriving off of the joy they were previously emitting.

Clearing his throat and moving to his feet he answered, “I haven’t completely dismissed that as an option, can’t say I’ve particularly enjoyed anything we’ve done.”

His words had hurt Y/N, Azriel could tell that much, he noticed how her smile had wavered, how her eyebrows knitted together and the spark he so admired in Y/N’s eyes had dimmed. Guilt crawled into Azriel’s chest but he knew it was probably for the best, he’d entertain her visits and activities but he couldn’t allow himself to grow any closer. He knew he wouldn’t be here forever, sure that any week now Rhysand would return calling him back to his duties at the night court and he would go, leaving Y/N behind.

So Azriel looked down at Y/N who was still sat on the floor before, hurt on her face and he turned back to his horse, grabbing the reins and climbing on, “come on, let’s head back.” Y/N nodded, wordlessly picking herself up from the floor, she brushed the dirt from her clothes and hopped onto her horse.

They rode in silence, Azriel wanting nothing more in this moment than for her to start one of her conversations that he once found so unbearably annoying. Even praying that she would start her melodic humming, a sign that he hadn’t hurt her feelings too much. But Y/N didn’t make a sound.

Sighing to himself over the fact that he had found himself caring so much about this woman he barely knew in the space of such a small time, Azriel broke the silence, wanting to reduce the rift he had so suddenly opened between them. “So what do you actually enjoy doing. If not torturing the male species”He lamely attempted a pathetic excuse for a joke, recalling when the atmosphere around them both was lighter and more playful, wishing for it to return.

Without looking at him, Y/N replied quietly, “I don’t get much free time. But when I do I like to bake or sow, I enjoy making dresses.”

In an attempt to make her smile Azriel spoke, “someone who meant a lot to me used to sow, she must have made hundreds of the most beautiful dresses I’ve ever seen. She made one our high lady wore once, it looked like she had sown together pure starlight.” He glanced to his side where Y/N was riding, a wistful smile creeping onto her lips as if she wished she could create something just as magical.

“I don’t think I’ve ever made anything quite like that”

“I’m sure you’re great. Maybe one day you’ll even make something for me?” It may have been a bit presumptuous of Azriel to say, but at the sight of her usual smile finally on her face he was glad he said it. And Azriel quite liked it, the idea of wearing something made by her.

“A dress?” She teased, the stiff atmosphere around them had blown away with the gentle breeze, a comfortable warmth taking its place.

“I would make a dress work if that’s what you made me. You’ve already put me through enough torture I’m sure I could endure a little bit more.”

Y/N snorted, hand flying to her mouth in an attempt to cover the sound but Azriel caught it and swore to himself he would do everything in his power to make sure he was never the reason for Y/N losing her smile again. As they continued along the path that led back to the city, dirt on their clothes and contentment on their faces. Azriel couldn’t wait for what she had planned next… as long as it didn’t actually involve him having to wear a dress.

Part 4

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Notes: I don’t know much about horses so please don’t come for me if I’ve said something wrong <3

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove

(I’m so sorry I couldn’t get some of them to work, and I’m even more sorry if it’s just my awful spelling)

#acotar #azriel x reader #fanfic #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #sarah j maas

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prythianpages · 4 months

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Dandelions | Azriel x Witch!Reader

summary: After begging Azriel to take you with him to Windhaven, he finally concedes. But his worries of you getting hurt come to life when you're kidnapped.

warnings: violence, mentions of blood and death/killing

a/n: this is based off this request. If you're interested in reading more of Az x witch reader, you can find the masterlist here.

Azriel hears you gasp as he sets you down. His hands remain at your waist, keeping you steady as you find your footing. You’re still not used to the feeling of flying. Contrary to what Cassian believed, you do not fly on a broomstick so it’s all new ground to you or lack of ground you should say.

There is an unexpected allure about Windhaven. The camp is etched from the formidable terrain of bare rock and mud. There’s a quiet here that you find strangely unsettling but peaceful. It’s the stars that captivate you the most. There’s countless of them and they shimmer like celestial diamonds against the vast, dark night sky. You wonder if they shine brighter than the ones in Velaris or if it’s the lack of moon tonight that makes you think so.

“It’s beautiful,” you say as you step forward, eyes darting around.

“It’s a camp on a mountain.” Cassian deadpans but you’re too engrossed in taking the sights before you to shoot him a sly remark.

“She finds beauty in everything,” Azriel seems to reply, his lips curling up fondly as he lets you continue to admire Windhaven, even though he feels the same as Cassian about it. “I should take her back to the house before–”

But it’s already too late.

Amidst the rugged expanse of the Illyrian camp, there are figures coming into their view. Lord Devlon is among them. Azriel’s shadows are tugging you back to his side until his arm is brushing against your cloak. He’s starting to regret bringing you with him and realizes it’s also too late to hide you in his shadows as the Lord Camp’s cold eyes fall onto your form.

You clutch your cloak tighter around your chest, keeping the obsidian necklace you wear hidden. It doesn’t matter though. Your presence itself pulses with an unseen energy–a dance of ancient whispers that tease the senses. You’re darkness and light. Wildness and wisdom.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see one of the Illyrian males make a sign against evil and although you’re a green witch, you instinctively take a step back. You bump into Azriel’s wing, which curls around you protectively and you feel a rush of reassurance and comfort through the bond.

“You brought a witch.”

The other males flinch at the word. Though Azriel is on alert and his shadows are whispering to him, he finds the sight of full-grown, weathered Illyrian warlords showing fear at the sight of you amusing. You would never hurt a fly. But he would never tell them that. He wants them to fear you.

“Is that a problem?” His voice carries a firm edge and his eyes narrow, issuing a silent challenge.

“Keep her away from the females and children.”

Azriel’s jaw is clenching and Cassian is stepping forward to ease the situation. He does not agree with the cold way the Illyrian camp lords are regarding you but they are here on a mission and need to see it through. “She is none of your concern,” Cassian says and then with a dark chuckle adds. “Unless you give her a reason to be.”

You look at each of them, adopting a stoic demeanor. It’s a skill you’ve honed from observing your mate–the master of impassivity. Their eyes widen momentarily before diverting their gazes.

“We’re here to oversee that all arrangements for tomorrow’s Blood Rite go as planned.”

Azriel takes you to one of the few houses in Windhaven. He tells you it’s where he grew up besides Rhysand and Cassian under the careful and loving watch of Rhysand’s mother. The small house is a haven against the biting winds of the camp.

The house bears the marks of countless footsteps and memories that have weathered its walls over the years, radiating a well-loved charm. Azriel guides you further into the house until you’re standing in the living area and your eyes are eager to take everything in, curious to know more about the place your mate spent so much time in. There’s a series of marks on one of the walls and you smile as you recognize Azriel’s, Rhysand’s, and Cassian’s names scribbled along dates that grow higher and higher with every year.

“The room I stayed in is right around the corner,” Azriel tells you, inclining his head in said direction. “The bathroom is right next to it and the kitchen is further down the hall, if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” you reply, turning to face him. “This house is so warm and cozy.”

Azriel’s smile, though appreciative, carries a hint of amusement. He closes the distance between you, a playful glint in his hazel eyes. “Please don’t get any ideas.”

“I still prefer Velaris.”

A soft chuckle escapes Azriel’s lips. “Thank the Cauldron.”

He leans in and his hand softly traces the contours of your face. His eyes drink you in and are brimming with a burning affection he harbors just for you–the way they always do before he has to leave. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours and then I can show you around the forests.”

“Okay,” you exhale, looking into his eyes with a gaze that reflects his own. You stand on your tip-toes to press a brief kiss onto his lips. “Love you.”

Azriel holds you close before you can pull away. He kisses your lips again. Then your cheek and then your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer. “I love you too.”

Settling yourself onto the floor, you rest your back against the foot of the couch as you scribble down your intentions for the next month. There’s candles lit around you, bringing light to the room and offering a calming place for you to pause and reflect. It took a lot of effort for you to light each one of them as your powers are at their weakest every new moon.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, centering yourself. The state of peaceful bliss you crafted for yourself unravels abruptly, shattered by a piercing noise that startles you. You open your eyes to find a stranger smirking back at you and horror strikes you when you realize he’s not alone.

Your heart skips a beat and you press yourself further into the couch, calling upon your powers. “Who are you?”

“So it is true,” the Illyrian male snickers in wicked delight, ignoring your question. His keen eyes take note of the way your eyes flicker between black and your natural eye color and the fact that you’re not putting up a fight. “You’re powerless under the new moon. How unfortunate for you that it landed on the one night we’re able to use magic.”

“Just to be safe.” Another male says, throwing something in the air.

The male in front of you catches the object with ease and your nose crinkles as a metallic odor overwhelms your senses. Iron. It may not be a weakness to most fae–or any, at all, despite the mortal’s claims–but it’s a witch’s weakness. Your stomach churns, bile rising up your throat.

You tug on the bond in the hopes to reach Azriel but as the male clamps the iron chains around your wrist, you’re overcome with a sudden wave of weakness. You can’t feel the bond. It’s eerily silent.

You don’t know how long you’re out for or if you were out at all. All you know is the cold, hard uneven ground beneath you feels like it’s moving and there’s a growing weakness in your limbs that make it hard for you to move. Your head feels unusually light and your throat tightens. You barely manage to roll over and prop yourself up with a shaky arm before hurling.

“Let’s hurry and get it done with.”

“What–what do you want from me?” You rasp. Your arms are still shaking as they hold you up and you will yourself to sit up, your back meeting a hard and rock surface. You blink your eyes and your surroundings clear enough for you to register that you’re in a cave. The feeble glow of torches cast long, sinister shadows that seem to writhe and contort along the jagged walls.

The male you had seen earlier comes into your line of sight. There’s a sharp dagger in his hand and its blade catches the dancing flames of the torches with a malevolent gleam. He points it at you, aiming for a place slightly to the left of the center of your chest.

“Your heart.”

You let out a choked laugh. To capture a witch’s heart is to hold a key to the very core of their being. It’s a sacred vessel through which profound magic flows and can transfer over to whoever holds it. But your heart’s chambers are only filled with the blood that sustains you.

The magic and enchantment that resides in your heart and defines your existence is bound to Azriel. It has been ever since you gave your heart to him. Taking your heart would be an act in vain for the Illyrian males who captured you.

You don’t tell them this though. You don’t want to die but the thought of putting a target on Azriel’s back terrifies you and overrides the former. You’d never bring any harm upon Azriel.

The male pulls on your hair, forcing your gaze up. His lips curl up into a snarl. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, you witch.”

“Should we have a little fun with her first?”

“We don’t have the time. There’s only a little over an hour before the magic leaves us.”

“That’s plenty of time to make her scream.”

A shiver courses through your spine, leaving a trail of cold unease. You squirm under your restraints but go entirely still when you feel something sharp. Your heartbeat quickens in response to the press of the dagger into your skin.

“What if the Shadowsinger comes?”

“He won’t. He’s–”

There’s a knot in your stomach, tightening with the vulnerability of raw, unbridled panic. You’re going to die. The only comfort you have is that you’ll die, knowing that your last words to Azriel were “love you.”

“Did you not see the way he looked at her? Even if we rip her heart out, there’s no telling if we’ll escape his–”

“Then, we’ll be quick about this,” the male in front of you growls, pushing the dagger further into you. You gasp at the stinging pain and your whole body grows entirely still. “We’ll take her heart, harness her powers and run. The Shadowsinger will never find us–”

“I just did.”

There’s a burning in Azriel's chest that unsettles him deeply. He catches a flash of green and realizes that the searing sensation he feels is flaring out from the emerald that lives in the pocket of his leathers. Right over his own heart.

“What is it?” Cassian asks, noticing the subtle shift in the Shadowsinger’s stance. They’re standing near a fire pit, surrounded by tents that this year’s blood rite’s participants are being winnowed to. Their task is to ensure that no stunts are pulled such as the one from last year where Nesta, Emerie and Gywn were forced into the blood rite.

Azriel pulls out the gem. Despite the burn, he handles your heart with care and tenderness. The gem pulses with life, glowing like the vibrant green of a sunlit meadow. He tugs on the bond and his heart drops to his stomach.

He can no longer feel you. All he can feel is the relentless echo of imagined horrors. Something is wrong.

“It’s y/n,” Azriel breathes, eyes wide with worry.

Cassian’s eyebrows knit together in concern. He nods his head. “Go,” he tells his friend and Azriel is already vanishing into his shadows. “I can handle this.”

Azriel’s muscle are tense, coiled like springs. Each of his siphons are glowing like icy glaciers, threatening to release their raw power. the emerald led him to this cave. His eyes darken when he sees you. You’re held against your will with a dagger pressed into your chest and a hand against your throat, pulling you flush into an Illyrian male’s chest. The look of fear in your eyes nearly destroys him.

“If you don’t get your filthy fucking hands off of her, I will rip each finger. One. By. One.”

Azriel’s voice is cold, each utterance sending a chilling vibration through the air. With every passing second, his words are no longer a warning but become a promise. The Illyrian males are visibly shaking under Azriel’s intense gaze and the one holding you swallows thickly. Azriel catches the way his gaze flickers to the opening of the cave and then you’re being roughly shoved to the ground.

Dark tendrils cushion your fall and in an instant, Azriel is crouching beside you. His shadows are brushing against you, assessing you for your injuries. They whisper to him about the injury on your chest and at the sight of your blood, his own runs cold. He’s breaking the iron imprisoning you and rendering your hands useless with his bare hands.

“Azriel,” you breathe in relief.

“You’re safe now,” he reassures you, holding your distressed gaze. He gently brushes your hair back. “But I need you to close your eyes for me, okay? Can you do that for me, love?”

He waits for your response–a meager nod, before leaving your side. He leaves a couple of his shadows with you. They wrap around your eyes and curl against your ears, clouding your senses. He doesn’t want to subject you to the violence that is about to unfold.

When he stands to his feet, he takes delight in the anguished screams coming from the Illyrians as they realize they’re trapped inside the cave with him. His shadows are forming a wall against the only entrance and exit.

One of the males turns and drops to his knees. “Please,” he cries desperately. “I’m sorry!”

“You’re pathetic,” Azriel nearly growls with a sickening smirk. “All of you.”

He makes sure each of their deaths is slow and painful and he doesn’t stop until the very last staggering breath.

Azriel’s shadows lift from your eyes and ears and you’re looking into a pair of familiar hazel eyes. Your eyes glisten with tears and with a gentle touch, his fingertips brush away the traces of terrors that run down your cheeks. His palm cradles your face and you lean into his touch. He rests his other hand against your chest, over your bleeding wound.

Green light slips from his fingertips, seeping into your wound and you both watch in shock as he uses your magic to heal you. “I didn’t know I could do that,” he murmurs in awe.

When he lifts his hand and unmarked skin is revealed, relief overcomes him, coursing through him and through the bond. He can't help but dwell on the what ifs because he knows that he was only a few minutes away from being too late. From losing you.

Gods, he was a fool for bringing you--his sweet, loving mate to a cold and harsh place like Windhaven. Especially on the night before the blood rite. But you had begged him to take you with him. You wanted to see the place he grew up in and explore the forest of Illyria and Azriel found it extremely hard to say no to you.

You’re safe now, he reminds himself, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Although still slightly shaken, you're also now unharmed. And that's all that matters to him.

“It’s because you hold my heart,” you tell him as your crying comes to a stop and with a shaky breath continue. “That’s what they wanted–to take my heart and use it for themselves.”

An arm slips under your knees and the hand on your face drops to embrace your neck. He pulls you close, cradling you to his chest. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

You know what he’s asking. You bury your face into the comfort of his chest. It’s warm and you can feel his heartbeat. It’s fast but beginning to steady and it’s like music to your ears–the sweetest symphony. You turn your head in a way that allows you to rest your ear against his heart but also to speak.

“Because I was scared they’d go after you next.”

“Oh, my sweet little wildflower,” he purrs. He leans his head down and his breath is hot against your neck. He's touched by your concern. “They’d never get within 10 feet from me if they came for me.”

You dare to lift your head and barely catch a glimpse of the carnage around you before Azriel is tightening his hold on you and coaxing your gaze back to him.

“I see that now.”

“Does it scare you?”

There’s a subtle hint of vulnerability within his hazel eyes. Concern etches into his features as the weight of his question lingers in the air. Azriel was a strong and lethal man. A warrior. A spymaster. You knew this. Yet, he always kept the nature of his work concealed, not wanting to burden you with the horrors of it all.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you avoid his heated gaze. “No.”

Azriel tuts. He can sense there’s something more and he needs to know. He coaxes your gaze back to his. “What is it?”

“I found it kind of…hot,” you admit, a bit sheepishly. “That you’d kill for me.”

Azriel chuckles. The corner of his lips, molded by shadows and softened by affection, tug upwards. Gods, he loves you so much. You’re perfect, made just for him. You're everything he could ever wish for and more.

“I’d do anything for you, love.”

a/n: To the anon who requested this, I hope you enjoyed it ❤️

tagging: @fxckmiup

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagines #azriel angst #azriel x witch!reader #acotar imagines #acotar x reader #az!dandelions

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 months

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Pretty like the sun

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨

warning: blood, fighting, injuries, drinking.

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Nyx’s pov:

"Again", his voice sounded unfamiliar to him. He had flinched at it after the concept of time had started slipping. For a split moment, Nyx thought that it was his high lord who had spoken. That had caused him a solid punch to the jaw. The boy in front of him looked Nyx over worriedly, as his stance shifted. “You’re in or you're out? I won’t wait forever”, Nyx snarled, leaping forward. Once again, he didn’t remember when they had abandoned their swords. But he preferred it like that. Close and personal. Physical.

Another blow landed against his nose, and Nyx's head flew back. He was well aware that on his good days, the poor chap wouldn’t have landed any of the punches at all. He got close only because Nyx let him. "Enough," an annoyed voice sounded from behind him. A welcome destination for the boy in front of Nyx. It was good enough for princes’s cracked knuckles to meet the target. “Flying fuck," a rough palm gripped Nyx’s shoulder, “You are the most stupid...", a growl. Nyx tried to open his left eye, one that was now too puffed up and throbbed like a bitch. “I suggest you bugger off before I make sure that you’re eating dirt for the rest of the week," Axel’s deep growl echoed, making Nyx chuckle lightly. “Man, he asked for it", the guy lifted his palms in defiance. “And if he told you to jump from the cliff, would you do it?", the boy shrugged, only making Axel let out yet another frustrated sigh, and the other Illyrian took it as his chance to leave.

“You will make a wonderful advisor in the future," Nyx skittered. “I think I will have your ass six feet under before that could even happen," Axel grumbled, pulling at his friend’s arms and trying to help him up. “I left you for a fucking hour, Nyx," he huffed, draping Nyx’s arm over his shoulders. "Yeah, I missed you. I had to settle for a fight with an idiot”. Nyx huffed. “Do I need to remind you that you have an important high-lord party to attend soon?"—that was one of the reads Nyx had let his rails loose. He hoped that if he misbehaved badly enough and looked like a walking corpse when the day chimed, he could wiggle his ass out of it. The thought alone made him want to bend over and vomit. He wasn’t built to be a prince. He didn’t want it. It wasn’t him. Wasn’t the life he envisioned for himself.

“You’ve been acting like an absolute fool ever since we came back from Velaris; what has gotten into you?", Axel kicked the door to their cabin before guiding Nyx toward his bed. Your sister happened to me, he thought, but bit his tongue. “I just wanted to fight," Nyx growled instead. Only now did he feel how badly his body hurt. That fucker had landed more blows than Nyx had initially counted. “I know you, and this ain’t you. You can talk to me. We always talk about it”, Axel shoved Nyx’s hand away from his face before dragging a warm cloth over the swollen eye. And what would he tell him? I can't get your fucking sister out of my head. Do you know why we cannot see each other for a bit? Why is she even pulling away? Nyx grunted, pulling the cloth out of Axel’s hands.

“Why don’t you start by telling me who you’ve been running around with instead?”. It was low. Axel had a right to have a life outside of being Nyx’s right-hand man. And his love life didn’t need to be accounted for. But Nyx was so angry. Angry at everything and everyone. People constantly kept him in the dark. And then threw a bucket of news in his face while expecting him to receive it with open hands. “I ain’t running around with anybody," Axel shook his head, throwing a jar of salve Nyx’s way. But the scowl on the young prince’s face only deepened, “So, Piper doesn’t ring a bell?”. And bingo. Axel’s whole body got ridged. Did Nyx have no right to go and dig into the new arrival papers? Probably. But here they were. “Keep her name out of your fucking mouth," Axel pointed a warning finger at him, clearly not finding this one bit amusing. “And you stand here giving me lectures about sharing things," Nyx chuckled, “So why aren’t you talking, friend?" Axel shook his head, “Clean yourself up and sober up while you’re at it." He moved towards the door, and something in Nyx shifted. Axel never left. Not even when Nyx was in his shittest of moods. He had always been the only one to not leave him. Sit through his temper tantrums. "Axel," Nyx breathed, panic rising in his chest. He didn’t want to be alone right now. His head was too busy. He was too full of things he didn’t want to think of. “I’m only going to grab you some fresh water; lay down you twat," Axel grumbled back, easing the rising tide within Nyx. He nodded simply, slumping back on the mattress. His hand instantly moved beneath his pillow, where he always kept a stitched napkin that Zofie had given him. The crooked moon and stars greeted him like they always did. The stick figures holding hands. The flowers. Even the wonky sun on the far left side was perfect. Always perfect. “I’m thinking about you," Nyx muttered, brushing his fingers over the stick figure that was supposed to represent Zofie, “It’s one never-ending night over here without you, Sunny."

Zofie’s pov:

It’s only been a week, but it felt like forever. She never usually felt so desperate when they left. At least not after the first week. But she had grown restless. The cry that left Nyx’s lips as he shot up to the sky was still ringing loud and clear. Zofie heard it even through her hammering heartbeat. With her back pressed against the door, as she covered her mouth. And now it felt as if she hadn’t seen Nyx in a lifetime. It clawed at her. She knew that Axel would look after him, but... What if something happened, and that’s how they would have separated?

Zofie didn’t know what she was feeling. It all seemed too mushy and jumbled up. Now, instead of seeing a different aura around people, she simply saw black. It was impossible to distinguish between different feelings.

“Zo, do you want more pancakes?", her father’s voice made her almost drop her fork as she nodded. Azriel gave her a concerned look before plopping one of his signature breakfast goods onto her plate. “You excited to see the girls?", he asked, throwing a glance your way, only earning a slight shrug in return. “Yeah, am… It will be nice”, even if she didn’t want to see anyone. Well, maybe Piper. Axel had said that she was one of the nice girls. One Zofie could get to know if only she chose to.

“Ah, yes. You’ll be able to show them around; you can even go down to the market in the city," you chimed in, “and buy something nice or show them the good spots." But Zofie didn’t want to do that. Most spots had been hers and Nyx’s. They felt too personal to just be handed out. The same pinch in her chest made the hallow darkness spread even more. Her brows knitted as she pushed the plate further away from her. “You didn’t like it?", Azriel stopped mid-bite, almost making Zofie feel guilty. Almost. “Just not hungry," she shrugged, getting up from the table. She caught a glimpse of worry in her father’s eyes as she moved towards the stairs. The way you had reached out to squeeze his hand. And while Zofie didn’t want to keep you two in the dark, she didn’t know how to explain the emptiness inside her.

Just the fresh air and change of scenery didn’t help. It was nice to see her aunts and introduce herself to Piper, but socializing was never her thing. Nyx did most of the talking when they were out in public. He was born for that. It baffled her how quickly he managed to come up with a snarky remark as if he stored them all within his brain with special labels for just the right moment. Zofie tried to suffocate thoughts of him. Tried. But failed miserably. Everything she did or thought of was always in one way or another related to him. The thing was that she didn’t want to leave him like that. She didn't want to make him upset, but she also didn’t know how to make everyone happy. So, until she could come up with a solution, it would have to be like that.

“In my opinion, he is so much more attractive," one of the girls giggled into her palms. Attractive? How long has Zofie been out of this conversation? They were talking about the market day the last time she listened. “Well, Piper is the one who got to talk to him," the brow haired girl nudged the poor Piper, who had practically curled into herself by now, “Is he really hot up close?”.

Zofie shook her head. “Who’s hot?", she cut in, making all four sets of eyes dart up to her. And now she realized why she hated speaking in the first place. “Piper here had the prince’s second man carry her boxes”, Lina’s blond curls bobbed as she turned. But that was Axel? Why was Axel even here in the first place? He told her they could... Of course, he had met her. “Well, that’s my brother, so can we not talk weirdly about him?", Zofie scrunched up her nose, making the other two girls roll their eyes. But at least Piper’s shoulders sagged in relief. "Bore," the copycat next to Lina chirped. Zofie just couldn’t remember her name.

“We sure can talk about the prince himself," Lina smirked, and something snapped deep within Zofie, “There’s nothing to talk about." Suddenly, the prospect of having girls her age seemed like the worst idea ever. “As if... I’m determined to meet him," Lina said. The green mist rose in Zofie’s vision. “Gonna swoon him off his feet; heard he’s a proper flirt two," she elbowed her double ganger as they both chuckled.

“He will not fall for your shit," Zofie bit back, not even realizing that her hands were now firmly clenched by angry fists. “And how would you know that?", Lina fluffed her lashes. How did she know? She didn’t. Lina was pretty; you couldn’t take that from her. From the hair to her lean body. She was the embodiment of how any girl wanted to look. While Zofie… “He is my friend," she muttered, biting out the nagging thoughts. Lina chuckled, “Yeah, a friend. So, clearly, if you’re not girlfriend material, I will be."

It felt as if a bomb had exploded all around her. Vision glazing over. She saw nothing. Only Lina. She heard no one. Only Lina. And surprisingly, the girl wasn’t smiling. She looked petrified. Grasping at her throat. It felt static. As if the time had come to a halt. And then someone yanked her back. Pulling Zofie away from the neatly placed picnic blanket.

"Zofie", it sounded muffled, but her eyes did follow the sound. Only to be met with Feyre’s concerned ones. She blinked a couple of times. The fuzzy feeling cleared out. “She’s insane," a shriek sounded from behind her, making Zofie twist back. “You are dangerous, you stupid..." it was Lina, her cheeks still red, eyes wide. “Don’t finish that sentence," Cassian was gripping her shoulder, but he didn’t look too concerned with the girl. His eyes were on Zofie.

Zofie blinks a couple of times, black spots dancing in the corners of her vision. What had she done? Was it even her? Why did she... “Why don’t we go drink some tea, dear?", Feyre wrapped a hand around her shoulders. "I...", Zofie barely muttered before Feyre cut in, “Some tea with lots of honey, yes, yes." A part of Zofie wanted to run. Like she always did. Run away and hide. But Feyre pushed some of hair behind her ear, “We’ll have a nice conversation you and I”, she muttered almost ti herself, “Bake cookies even. Cookies always help”.

Nyx’s pov:

“Give me that," Axel said, snatching the glass out of Nyx’s hand, “You’ve been here for an hour." An hour too long. The hustle of the people was making Nyx sick. It was bad enough that he had to stand for the majority of that hour next to his parents, smiling as if he was thrilled to be there while he was slowly dying inside. Nyx kept dead-eye contact with Axel through it all, even if there was a sea of females who were trying to catch his eyes.

“I still think that you should cover for me so I can sneak out," Nyx grumbled. He had made at least five escape plans; he even planned to fake an allergic reaction, but Axel hadn’t been as thrilled about that. “Midnight. We had a deal”, Axel muttered, scanning the crowd. He was Nyx’s hawk, noting slipped past Axel. And as much as Nyx hated to admit it, Azriel was the one who had taught him all of it. “But you’ll dance with half of the girls in that line," Nyx nodded towards the girls who hadn’t stopped staring at him ever since the night began. “They ain’t her for me, kitten," Axel mused, making Nyx roll his eyes. “I’ll put a good word out for you," the prince said with a tap on his friend’s shoulder.

“Is your family coming?", Nyx scanned the crowd for familiar face. Well, correction. Is Zofie coming? He had tried to sneak back to Velaris before all this. He had to because his brain was going into overdrive. It had been eleven days, eighteen hours, forty-seven minutes, and 45... 46 seconds till he had laid eyes on her. And by now, he was more than okay with just catching a glimpse. He could do with that. He would settle for that. “Papa should," Axel said calmly, “Ma’ wasn’t feeling too well, so she’s back at the cottage." Translation: Zofie didn’t want to go, so Y/N stayed back with her. Nyx clenched his jaw. “Everyone’s healthy and well?", he was fishing for straws here, and he knew it. “Yeah, it’s all well; little one is growing too fast, though. Could have sworn she fit in my palm before we left," Axel muttered, and a part of Nyx was glad that he hadn’t caught onto his real intentions.

“Here you are”, a strong palm landed on Nyx’s shoulder, making the boy look to the side. His smug father stood there, way too happy with himself. “High Lord," Axel said, lowering his head in greeting, even though Nyx had specifically told him to not kiss his father with flatly. “You two are hiding in the back as if this is a funeral," Rhys shook his head with a smile, “Come up to the front tables; quite a couple of people are looking for you." Nyx’s eye twitched. If only he could scream now. He was convinced all the windows would shatter. He wanted out. Why was no one catching onto the fact that he was suffocating? He didn’t want to be a part of his father’s plans. He didn’t want to be a perfect son. A one-day-crowned prince.

Nyx was sure that Rhys could see the malice burning through his eyes, considering that his face went dead serious. Nyx knew that his father would stomp his foot, and he would have to do it. Or that pleading look on his mother’s face would claw at his heart till he gave in. He felt Axel’s hand on his shoulder blade. He was spiraling then. His magic was flaring up and Axel was warning him like he always did. Nyx was about to open his mouth when his eye caught movement behind his father. His eyes narrowed. Vision sharpening, and then it all died down.

The ringing in his ears faded. The choking feeling subsided. “Nyx, I am talking to you," Rhys said, gripping his upper hand, but Nyx shook it off as he stepped forward. Smile tugging at his lips. She was a vision. There might have been hundreds of females here tonight. Wrapped in the most expensive silks and velvet. But he hadn’t given them a second glance. And now she stood there at the top of the staircase. Looking over the hall. Nyx only hoped that she was looking for him.

And then her gaze found his. As if he had brought it right back to him. As if in a sea of bodies, she knew where he would be. And then she smiled. And Nyx was convinced that someone had spiked the wine because she shouldn’t be smiling. He moved faster, his hands gripping the railing as he jogged up the stairs. He missed every other step as he went. Was it appropriate? No. Was he making a spectacle considering that they were right above everyone and had nowhere to blend in? Yes. But did he care? No. Because even with twenty stairs separating them, she was too far away, and at the same time, she was in front of him way too quickly, leaving him no time to pick through his thoughts.

“You came?", Nyx breathed heavily. Zofie crossed her arms over her chest, looking him up and down. "I had a feeling you were struggling to get through this," she said casually, “Axel said that your sassiness has been off lately." Nyx wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at this point as he stepped closer to her, shielding her tiny frame from any curious glances. "Sunny," he muttered, ready to watch her fade away the same way she always did in his dreams.

“Your hands are trembling," she breathed, reaching out for his palms, “Why are your hands trembling?" Her worried eyes looked up at him, and he was ready to sink to his knees in front of her. “I… I am nervous”, he muttered like a teenager, looking at his first-ever crush. “You never get nervous around me," Zofie frowned, shaking her head. And then there was one heartbeat. One. Nyx’s left hand reached behind her as he pulled her into his chest, wrapping her up in his embrace.

He was shivering all over. But all the systems in his body that had been flashing red for days now were finally running smoothly. It felt as if he could finally breathe. That lavender sugar scent that she carried drowned him in her. “We need to get out of here," Nyx breathed again, her hair neatly braided with daisies. “I didn’t spend an hour lacing this for nothing," Zofie muttered, pulling back from his embrace. Both of their eyes fall onto the deep purple and black bodice. A vision. Nyx reached for her hand. “I’ll appreciate the hell out of it for you, Zof; I will," he muttered, dragging her towards the double-sided door. He heard gasps as he moved. Pretty sure he even heard his name being called. Pret sure he heard footsteps. But the moment he was out in the cold night air, he wrapped his arms around Zofie once more. Bringing her as close as he possibly could before shooting up at the sky and winnowing halfway through the plush clouds. Now that he had gotten his sun back, not even the devil himself was strong enough to take her away.

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Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi i @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain

#nyx x oc #nyx imagine #nyx x reader #nyx acotar #nyx archeron #nyx acotar x reader #nyx acotar imagine #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x oc #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel acotar x reader

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elainemg97 · 4 months

Text

“You think you’ll ever be ready for one?”

…

“I don’t know,” Azriel said.

“Do you want a child?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” Distant words—ones that prevented Cassian from prying further. ”

~ ACOSF, Ch 22

When I read this quote, I got the feeling that Az believes he is not worthy of a happy ending. That no one would want to raise a child with him or willingly choose to be with him.

That’s why I decided to come up with this future headcanon where Elain and Az adopt this little Illyrian baby girl whom they call Rosie, and they love and pamper her so much.

Here they’re enjoying their first Starfall as a family ☺️

Ps: Someone forgot to put away the winter solstice decor 🤭

#acowar #acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #elriel #elain x azriel #acomaf #azriel #art #fanart #acotar art #acotar fanart #pro elriel #pro elain

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yourejinx · 11 months

Text

Undeniable Bonds

Azriel x F. Reader

Warnings: angst, as per usual. Not proof read.

word count: 4713.

Author’s note: I’m sorry I’m so late with this. I gave Mor a sibling. And I may have changed some things from the cannon books. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.

CHAPTER THREE.

“What did you do to him?” Rhys asked mentally, an amused glint on his violet eyes as he looked over to where Azriel and Cassian were training the Valkyries.

“What do you mean?” I raised an eyebrow at him, wiping away the sweat of my forehead and taking a sip from my jar of water.

It had been a while since Rhysand joined me in training. He didn’t have much time these days between being High Lord and a father, and a husband. But lately he’s been under more pressure and needed to blow up some steam.

I dared a look at the Shadowsinger, he was teaching Gwyn some defensive stances, being his brooding self, scowl and all. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary.

“He’s been more irritable these past weeks.” Rhysand took a step back, adopting a fighting stance once again and flaring his wings. I couldn’t help the smirk from showing on my face, I had made him sweat enough for him to bring out his Illyrian side.

Behind us Cass chuckled and I grinned at him, he winked at me in return. Rhys just threw him an annoyed stare and rolled his shoulders.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, he seems fine. For his usual self, that is.” I shrugged. Brought my fists up and started to circle him slowly.

“No, I could’ve sworn he hissed at Nesta this morning.” His face lit up with wicked delight and he swung for me, aiming for my supposedly exposed left side. The oldest trick in Amren’s book: “Let them come to you girl, let them think you defenseless.”

I caught his upper arm, twisted it and turned him around so that he was facing Cassian now. The Valkyries were looking. He tensed. “But he took one look at you, and decided to shut his mouth? Strange.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know. I’ve been too busy avoiding him as of late.”

One of his wings flung open and I released his arm to avoid the hit. He flashed a feline smile at me and lifted his right leg, trying to land a kick to my upper thigh.

I jumped out of his range, bracing my weight on his shoulders and landing behind him, quick on my feet. A second later, I dropped down low and sweeped out his legs from under him, throwing him on his royal ass.

He went down with a gasp, arms splayed out and eyes wide.

“I’m a little out of shape, it seems.” He coughed.

“You think?” I grinned down at him, offering a hand to help him stand up.

Somebody whistled and I turned my head to look at Nesta, she was grinning amusedly. “Would you like to join the Valkyries?”

Beside her, Cassian snorted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“And why is that?” She snapped her golden-brown head to Cass. I almost pitied him, I would hate to be on the receiving end of that cold stare.

“That would be a fight of egos. Y/N already leads her own legion of warriors in battle.”

“I could do both”. I replied instantly. Arms crossed and head cocked to the side.

“Yeah? And who would command the Valkyries?” Cassian asked with a knowing look.

I had more experience in battles and a little more than two centuries of training, the answer seemed logical enough. But I replied instead:

“Well, Nesta of course. I wouldn’t dream of taking her spot, we females should support each other.” I winked at her. She smiled. “But maybe when I grow tired of ordering males around.”

Nesta looked satisfied enough, a little bit of mischief dancing in those gray eyes.

I waited for Azriel’s retort about me not being capable of following orders, but it never came. He fixed his stare at me instead, as if contemplating my answer. Weird.

“See, I told you he’s been acting strange.” Rhys purred into my mind.

“Get out of my head.” I scowled at him. He chuckled.

“I think he’s really trying not to snap at you.”

“Not my problem.”

“Maybe you could try to work on a truce?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I already told him I won’t fight him, it’s the same thing.”

“Well, it is easier not to fight him if you’re avoiding him. Why not try and get along instead?”

“Oh yeah, maybe we could hang out and braid each other’s hair too.” I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at the High Lord. He laughed.

“I’m just saying, give it a try. He may be willing too. Solstice is a couple of days ahead, it’ll be a good time for make up and make out”

My reply died in my mouth as I caught a glimpse of auburn hair out of the corner of my eye. Lucien was walking towards us, clad in a pristine dark gray tunic and matching pants, arms crossed behind his back. He looked expectant…. shit, I was supposed to accompany him to the Dawn Court today. My eyes widened and I started to frantically grab my things.

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry Lucien, I totally forgot. Five minutes, I’ll shower and then we can leave.” I said hurrying up the steps to the House and throwing Rhysand a glare. He gave me a lazy smile.

“Just think about it.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Remind me again, why did you have to come?” Lucien asked, an auburn eyebrow going up, russet eye shining in the late sun’s glow like a warm liquid flame on a cold day.

Lucien was a very handsome, very intelligent male. I don’t understand why Elain would avoid him like the plague, he’s very nice and polite, and definitely not hard on the eyes. But then again, she had a not so discrete fixation with my mate. No, that wasn’t right. I had no business letting this stupid forsaken territorial Cauldron-made bond fill me with negative feelings. Azriel wasn’t mine, not in the way that counts.

I shook my head and stopped snooping around the books, putting my best smile on display.

“To escort you of course. We can’t have our emissary run into danger now, can we?”

“So, you’re not just avoiding the Shadow singer?”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, but I’d avoid him too if I had anywhere else to go instead of having to sit back and watch him flirt with my mate.”

I walked over to the window, the light pink and orange sky merged with the fluffy clouds so beautifully I wished I could paint it. Must be nice, to just be soft and beautiful and lovable, all the things I would never be. I have been built tough since a very young age, forced to be strong in order to survive, the only soft spot I ever had was ripped from me when I turned sixteen. Never again. Never again I would allow myself to be weak.

“I don’t care about those things.” I mused, the smile had long since slipped off my face.

“Watching your mate openly flirt with another?” he asked tentatively. My head snapped in his direction, not in shock but in warning. I wasn’t sure what he read on my face but he added, “I can see things more clearly than others,” – he pointed to his metal eye – “and we both have been cursed with the same affliction, it is easier to know where to look.”

I thought back to the times I’ve seen Azriel and Elain interact, how gentle and caring he had been with her, how she had blushed and smiled warmly at him. The look of heartache, of longing in Lucien’s face… had I been wearing the same look all this time? I wasn’t even sure I wanted Azriel to look at me like that, I just…it was enough for me if he didn’t hate me.

But the way he stared at me this morning, as if he didn’t know what to make of me, it reminded me of the first time we met…curiosity, that’s what it was.

If there was a tiny possibility of us getting along, maybe I should listen to Rhysand.

But now was not the time to think about that.

I clicked my tongue. “Wasn’t your friend supposed to be here already?”

Lucien sighed and took a seat in front of me, I turned my head back to the clouds.

“She’s running a little late, will be here any second.”

Maybe it was stupid of me to ask it outloud but if someone may understand, if someone may have an answer that would be him.

“Would you forgive her for treating you so poorly?” My eyes found his through the reflection on the window glass.

He knew I meant Elain.

“If she ever asks for it, then yes. If not…then what choice do I have but to forgive in order to move on?”

A small smile played on my lips. “You’re too good, Prince Charming. Couldn’t be me.”

He let out a small sensual laugh. “You’re good too, little raven, more than you give yourself credit for.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late” said a dark haired female bursting through the door. She carried a bag full of the Cauldron-knows-what, it tinkled with every step she took. “I hope you didn’t wait for too long.” She flashed a radiant smile at Lucien, genuine joy dancing in her onyx eyes at the sight of the Autumn male.

“It’s ok, we just got here.” He returned the smile.

I had to bite down my tongue to prevent myself from commenting on it. I leaned closer, peering over Lucien’s shoulder to the artifacts she displayed on the table. There were all sorts of things, medical instruments, prosthetics, cartography tools…this girl was very talented.

“What is this?” I asked, pointing to a small, gleaming golden sphere, intricately carved with what looked to be a diamond at its center, surrounded by three gold rings. Her eyes snapped at me as if she just realized I was in the room as well.

“Nuan, meet Y/N, she works for Rhysand. Y/N this is Nuan.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N.” She shook my hand. “That is – uh– a personal project, that I don’t know how it got here.” She chucked the piece back into the bag.

“Well, what does it do?”

“Nothing, yet. It’s just a prototype, more pretty than useful. It was supposed to be a soul locator, it should be embedded with a location spell and it’ll guide you to your loved one wherever they are, or anyone whose essence is entwined with the stone.”

“Brilliant.” I murmured under my breath but they heard it.

She smiled again. “Thank you.”

Something started to take form in my head, an idea, a little bit ridiculous and a little bit hopeful. A present for Solstice and a peace offering.

“Would you be willing to make something for me? I’ll pay you of course.” I said, already feeling the regret climbing up my mind.

“Sure, what did you have in mind?”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mor’s warm brown eyes met me through the full-length mirror in her room, she was dressed in a wine-colored dress that hugged every curve in her flawless body, long blond curls cascading over her shoulders and bold red lips adorned by a breathtaking smile. She was gorgeous, ethereal, in a way that didn’t make me want to rip the skin off of my own bones. How could someone be so similar yet so different to their own family? Mor’s brother had been brutally beautiful, in the way only a lethal predator would be. Blonde hair, strong, sharp features, and those dark eyes that could drag you into a pit of pure despair.

Some days it was particularly hard to look at Mor and not think of him, but unlike that beast of a male, she made me feel welcome and safe. I just had to breathe a couple of times and remind myself where I was at.

“You look like the night sky” her voice shook me out of my thoughts.

I smiled back at her and took one last glance at my figure in the mirror. I was clad in a fitting glimmering black dress, thin straps tied to the back of my neck, the fabric pooled atop the valley of my breasts, just under my cleavage and generously hugged them at the sides from where the skirt flowed like liquid to the floor. Mor had applied a delicate shiny powder to the top of my lids, some mascara and a rosé lip gloss.

I couldn’t stop staring at my obsidian black eyes, the thick lashes adorning them, the only thing I had inherited from my mother — such a beautiful tortured female she had been; but that was as far as my resemblance to her went, the harshness of my face…I had to thank my father for that, and the centuries of relentless anger. Only Mor could make such a face look beautiful. And I was grateful for that.

My sight moved to the small white scar atop of my right cheekbone, so pale it contrasted with my sun-kissed skin, and my hand rose on its own accord to graze the scarred tissue. It should have healed and disappeared on its own, it looked almost insignificant for it to leave a mark, but the cut had been deep enough to sever bone, and at the time I had refused to see a healer.

“What are you thinking of?” Mor asked softly. I turned around to face her.

“I’ve never apologized to you for what I did to your brother,” My voice came out a little strangled.

“And you never have to. You don’t apologize for surviving.” She frowned. “I am very aware of how cruel and evil my family is.”

“He was your only brother, Mor.”

“He was a monster, just like my father. You’re more family to me than he ever was.” She started and gave a little gentle squeeze to my arm. “You can talk to me, you know? About what…— about what happened. If you’d like. You don’t have to carry that weight alone.”

“I know, trust me I know..” I said, closing my fingers around the mark on my wrist “But I still can’t talk about it, the way you still can’t talk about what happened with Eris.”

She understood, more than anyone ever would. So she didn’t say anything else, instead she wrapped her arms around me in one of those tight embraces that help you put your soul back together a little bit.

“We’re gonna be late for dinner.” I laughed, she reluctantly let go.

“I got you a present” Mor pulled out a dark blue velvet box from her nightstand “Just don’t flash it around Amren if you wanna keep it.” She joked.

Inside sat a silver necklace encrusted with diamonds and lilac crystals. It was by far the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned. She made quick work of wrapping it around my neck and carefully set it atop my collarbones.

“Thank you, it is gorgeous, truly. Your present is down stairs, along with the rest” I said with an apologetic smile.

She smirked knowingly. “Except for that one,” a manicured finger pointed to the little black box with a blue ribbon sitting on the corner of her desk. I blushed. I was still debating whether it was a good idea to bring it or not. “Who’s the lucky one?” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Oh shut up, I already regret it.”

She laughed. “Well, if your dress doesn’t leave him speechless that sure will.” She winked, linked my arm to hers and winnowed us to the River House.

The evening was going uneventfully, I had convinced Lucien to at least join us for dinner and had spent a good amount of time just speaking with him, waiting for everyone else to gather. He was having a tough time adjusting to this Court, if it weren’t for the job Rhysand had offered that had him traveling most of the time I’m pretty sure he would hardly interact with anyone here. Not to mention his situation with Elain…so I figured he could use a friendly face and an invitation to be part of the group.

We were half way through some appetizers, chatting animatedly about the time he spent in the human lands when I felt him. His dark stare was charged with something I couldn’t quite place and for some reason it made me nervous. I was used to lust, and hate and loathing; had seen many males direct that same looks at me through the years, but this was different. Azriel wasn’t wearing his typical bored expression, nor the harsh one he seemed to reserve just for me. It was strange but not completely unpleasant.

Lucien caught sight of what had drifted my attention away from the conversation and politely excused himself to fetch more wine in time for Cassian to step up, Azriel closely behind.

The general let out a low flirty whistle. “Now, that’s a dress” he spun me around while I laughed. “Looking good, Y/N”

“Thank you Cass. It’s nice to see you with a shirt on for a change” I joked. He stuck his tongue out at me.

“I just know you love to see me shirtless” He winked and went to say hi to Mor.

Azriel was still standing beside me, a little awkward and more tense than before. His wings had gone taut behind his back. I met his hazel stare and brace myself for a nasty comment. None came.

“Hi” he said.

It was odd to be standing next to each other and for once not being in a yelling match throwing insults left and right.

“Hi,” My reply came out softer than I expected. Still I couldn’t fully let my guard down.

“I haven’t seen you around much these days.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy.”

“Rhys told me you were helping Helion with something” Azriel’s dark eyebrow raised in curiosity.

It was partially true, I’ve been coming and going between our courts, Helion has been showing me around the archives where I was to work if I decided to accept the offer. It was a beautiful place and his people had been nothing short of welcoming. But I didn’t want to think about that just yet, after tonight I still have three days to give him an answer.

“ Yes, he needed me to go through some stuff, research. Why were you looking for me?” I asked, mirroring his expression.

“I- I wanted to tell you that I tracked a pattern in the route of the missing fae, it goes all the way up to Vallahan.”

“You think the Court of Nightmares is trading slaves to Vallahan?”

“It’s a possibility. But since we don’t have any jurisdiction there, I thought that maybe we could intercept the caravan before they crossed the border out of Prythian.”

“You want me to come with you?”

I couldn’t help the incredulous look from my face, as if he had grown a second head.

“Sure, it is your mission after all.” he shrugged, taking a sip from his wine.

“What happened to you’re not as good as you think you are?” I mused, repeating his words.

“I was quick to judge, and you were right. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. But I guess that’s what we do, isn’t it? Fight and yell and hurt.”

I wanted to ask him why, why does he hate me so much? We weren’t always like this, where had it gone wrong? But the words died in my throat, it was a conversation I wasn’t sure I was ready to have. Even now, I could feel the tension between us, gnawing at my insides, at the bond I had buried so deep that it felt more like a phantom limb than an actual living thing.

I could treat him with dignity but I wouldn’t trust my most vulnerable side to him. To bring the subject up was to let him see the anguish of these years, the anger and the tears I had shed because of it. That was simply out of the table.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Azriel averted his gaze away, at the rest of the party, to Lucien and Cassian.

“Do you enjoy it?” I asked. His wings twitched.

“No. Do you?”

I shook my head. “Then why do we keep up with it?”

“I don’t know, maybe I just don’t know how else to act around you.”

“You’re not a dick to anyone else though, just me. I’ve seen it.”

“And you don’t deserve it, I shouldn’t let you affect me that much”

My eyes snapped back to his, he seemed shocked for a moment, realizing what he just said. He opened his mouth, maybe to try and explain what he meant by that but then Feyre walked in, along with her sisters. Elain was the embodiment of beauty and grace, dressed in a baby pink gown with a pattern of roses embroidered into the bodice. She looked lovely, and of course I wasn’t the only one who thought that. I caught Lucien frozen in his spot, eyes glued to the middle Archeron sister. I didn’t want to see if Azriel was watching too.

“She’s gorgeous.” I murmured, suddenly very aware of myself.

Don’t you dare compare yourself. Mor’s sharp voice sounded in my head as a reminder.

I could feel Azriel’s assessing stare boring into me and I turned to face him. He kept silent for a long minute, just staring, eyebrows furrowed. What was he looking for in my face? I couldn’t fight the blush from creeping up my cheeks. Had he known what I was thinking?

“She is,” he stated, his voice a velvet murmur.

I could have sworn something inside of me thrummed with the sound of it in a pleasant way. And the feeling was enough to startle me.

Before I could attempt to open my mouth, a familiar figure appeared in my peripheral vision, just behind his back.

Elain, in all her radiant beauty capturing the attention of everyone in the room, approached Azriel with a gentle smile. The Shadowsinger's eyes flickered towards Elain, momentarily captivated by her presence. I couldn’t stand the awful feeling of being overshadowed. This was actually the first time in years I had a civil-enough conversation with Azriel, and it was short-lived.

I had to excuse myself, to retreat from the scene that had turned uncomfortable, if not a bit sour. Forcing a polite smile I turned to walk away and addressed Azriel, "I’m going to check on Cass. You know…this was actually not awful, Shadowsinger."

Azriel's gaze shifted back to me, a flicker of regret in his eyes. It was gone half a second later. "Perhaps we can continue this conversation another time."

With a nod, I made my way toward the exit, still very confused and shaken up with unspoken emotions. I couldn't bear to witness Azriel's attention fully claimed by Elain, the realization of an unrequited longing becoming too painful to endure.

As I stepped out of the room, into the welcoming chilling air that brought the change of season, it wasn’t Cassian standing in the garden, but Lucien. A conflicted look on his face.

“Aren’t you freezing out here?” I asked, joining him in the solitude of the night.

He shook out of whatever trance he had been in, and painted a little smile for me. “No. I’m a male of autumn, remember? I’ve got fire in my veins.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “Seriously, what are you doing here by yourself?”

“The same as you, it seems.” He took a look behind me, past the open door to the ballroom.

“I just needed some fresh air”

“Do you want me to leave?.”

“No. No, it 's ok. I like the company.”

“Likewise” he smiled a bit more genuine this time.

“It’s almost time for presents and I,uh— I got you something.” I reached into that night-filled pocket between worlds and pulled out a small amulet. Completely ignoring the other thing I had storage in there. “I know you love to travel and you always get a piece of those places with you so I thought I could give you this”

I pushed the amulet into his hand, it was crafted into the shape of a golden fox with a thin chain and a bow attached to its back. He examined the little thing, curiosity shining in his warm eyes.

“It’s a safe charm from the lands of the north, for travelers and wanderers. Or so they said” I shrugged.

He turned his attention to me, tucking the amulet into the pocket of his vest, and I could’ve sworn that flame licked his russet eye – bright and alive.

“You didn’t have to do this. Thank you, I really like it” Lucien’s deep voice was so cheery it made me smile.

“Sure I did, you’re my friend.”

“I’m glad we met, little raven.” He smiled. “I got you something as well, it’s inside along with the others, let me get it for you.”

Before I could reply he was already half way through the door of the ballroom. A couple of seconds later, it was Rhys who emerged in his place.

“What are you doing here? I thought I saw Lucien rushing past”

I chuckled. “I just needed to think for a moment.”

Rhys’s feline smile adorned his dark features like a shooting star, and he folded his arms in front of his chest. “Have you thought about what I suggested?”

Taking a shuddering breath I answered “yes, in fact I have”

“And?” he quirked an elegant eyebrow.

“And I got a peace offering, a present — sort of.” I took the small box out from that in between worlds space, and fiddled with the blue ribbon. “But I don’t know Rhys, maybe it’s too much. It feels weird.”

“Nonsense.” He said, tugging me by the elbow into the house. “Come on, I’ll be the mediator in this situation.”

“It’ll be even more mortifying if you’re watching.” I said, trying to hold my ground.

But he didn’t listen, Rhys kept dragging me through the rooms, searching for the Shadowsinger. I exchanged looks with Mor at some point, pleading she’ll come to my rescue, she just laughed it off and winked. Traitor. I even tried puppy eyes at Cassian, he was too busy staring at Nesta.

It wasn’t until Rhys pushed open the doors to the sitting room that he stopped, back going stiff. I peered over his shoulder and the scent struck me harder than the scene developing in front of us. The room was charged with its sweet sickening smell, desire. That’s what it was. I didn’t even register Azriel’s scarred hand drop from Elain’s delicate neck, because my lungs wouldn’t let any air in. He turned to us, to Rhys, sensing the intrusion.

“Azriel.” Rhys called, his voice as dark as the night. A warning.

The shadowsinger looked startled, ashamed even, of being caught like this. I couldn’t even look at Elain.

His hazel eyes found me behind Rhys and his expression turned stone cold. My head was buzzing and it overwhelmed me so much I could only think of getting rid of the damned box in my hand. Its weight was suddenly too heavy for me to carry.

Violet eyes full of concern slid to me and Rhysand was about to speak but I shook my head. His lips formed a thin line.

“I – uh, — I’m gonna see if Lucien wants some dessert.” I mused, barely audible for Rhys to hear. My throat felt tight as I attempted to flee.

Azriel’s vicious voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

“You…” His anger-twisted face snapped in my direction and he was about to blurt whatever hurtful thing was on his mind but Rhys interrupted him.

“Azriel, my office. Now.” The High Lord commanded.

Azriel pinned me to the spot with a cold look. And I couldn’t do anything but stand in the middle of the room, trying to breathe.

taglist:

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If I forgot about someone, please let me know :)

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #Azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acowar #azriel x you

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starrbirrd · 2 months

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someone needs to write an ACOTAR next Gen AU where Feyre and Rhysand adopt an Illyrian child and raise them side by side with Nyx only for that child to go forward and lead the Illyrian revolution against the Night Court. It would be tragic regardless of whether Nyx decided to side with his sibling or side with his parents + I just love the idea of the kids growing up and being like "hey our parents are shitty actually"

#i just hear the “let my people go” song in my head rn #someone write this for me I'm too lazy to #bonus points if the kid realizes they were kind of adopted as basically a publicity stunt #or if someone says something hurtful about them never actually being part of the family #i feel like it could get messy and fun really quickly #anti rhysand #anti inner circle #anti acosf #anti acotar #anti sjm #anti feysand

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tswaney17 · 4 months

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Shadow Puppets

For the amazing @leiaamidala!! I'm your Secret Santa this year, and I hope you love cheesy, Elriel fluff! Thank you for being such an amazing person and a wonderful friend. I wish you a year full of happiness and cheer (and confirmation 😘)!! ❄🎄

This fic is based on the artwork linked here.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: minor language. Mostly tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 1,136

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read here.

Azriel shadow-walked them to the front door of their home from the River Manor. Typically, he preferred to fly. But with Elain two months from giving birth to the twins, and their adopted Illyrian son, flying became too much of a challenge to do so safely. Especially since Kaden was still learning how to properly fly, having not been taught before he was left at the orphanage, nor during his time spent there.

It was something Azriel could relate to more so than anyone else. That fear of flying becomes ingrained into your mind without realizing it until you’re standing on the edge of a cliff with a looming drop before you.

Kaden had tremendously improved since they began their flying lessons, but he still struggled to maintain himself if caught in a wind draft and Azriel preferred not to have his pregnant wife in his arms should he need to save his son.

So, when it was the three of them—soon to be five, gods spare him—he preferred the easier method of transportation. He still couldn’t believe they were going to be a family of five soon. He didn’t know what he did to be blessed with such a beautiful wife and the most perfect children. Lord knows he had done atrocities for the sake of his court. But somehow, through all the darkness surrounding him, Elain saw the light he never knew was shining inside of him.

A soul to match hers.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved these fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

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fieldofdaisiies · 5 months

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title: Morning Cuddles ship: Azris type: fluffy drabble

"I don't remember your face being so hairy, nor your breath to be so stinky, my love." Eris turns his head with a chuckle and earns himself a slap on the arm from his mate.

"You are lucky I love you so much," Azriel chuckles, wrapping his arm around his mate, his finger tips brushing over the face of one of their hounds, cuddled up next to the High Lord.

When the shadowsinger stretches out his leg his toes touch the other hound’s soft fur and he chortles. "They own our bed."

"We are sleeping in their bed!"

Azriel laughs, yet it is abruptly interrupted by the bedroom door slamming against the wall. Within moments, the two males hear the soft, rhythmic patter of four pairs of tiny feet on the wooden floor.

"Good morning!" Rhia joyfully exclaims, grinning from one ear to the other as she climbs onto the bed, nestling herself snugly between Eris and Cerberus, their large hound.

Amber and Elliot follow suit, taking their places on the other side of Eris. Finally, Azriel, chuckling softly, reaches down to carefully lift up Nadir, always careful of his delicate wings, and places him on his chest. The little baby boy instantly curls up against his father, releasing a contented sigh. Meanwhile, Amber has nestled herself between Elliot and Azriel, her face pressed against the soft membrane of Azriel's wing.

Just like Azriel, Nadir and Rhia also have wings. They are siblings who were adopted from the Illyrian camps when they were orphans. Amber and Elliot come from the Autumn court, also orphans who found a loving home with the couple.

"Good morning, my loves," Eris mumbles, his voice still drowsy. He punctuates his words with a loud yawn, his arms now enveloping two of his beloved children.

"Did you sleep well?" Azriel asks and earns himself a round of agreements. That makes him happy, his lovely children sleeping well, and waking in the morning with smiles on their faces.

Soon the room fills with warmth and laughter. Outside, it is a rainy autumn morning, and the patter of raindrops against the windowpane creates a soothing melody.

Somehow, Eris manages to let his hand slide into Azriel's, even with Amber lying on his arm, and he squeezes softly. The gestures conveys much more than words could speak, and Azriel can feel the High Lord's happiness through the bond and finds himself grinning, from one ear to the other.

This is happiness. This is what he has been hoping for all his life. This is home. Eris is. His children are. The hounds are.

Amber shifts a little, head resting on Azriel's shoulder then and starts to talk. She just blabbers, about what had happened the previous day, what she dreamed about, what her plans are for the coming day. Everyone just listens, hearts filled with nothing but bliss.

"And I want to fly!" Rhia giggles and obviously Azriel agrees that they will do some flying later on, which is followed by Eris's words about them having to be careful.

"Always, my love," Azriel assures his mate, holding his mate’s hand a little tighter then. "You know we would never race through the sky."

This draws a laugh not only from Eris but all the children, and even the two dogs bark, almost like laughing over Azriel's statement.

"But I guess no one will fly today." Eris lifts his gaze towards the window, everyone following suit.

The watch the big drops of rain, tap against the window and quickly the decision of staying in bed, cuddling for much longer is made. Later on, when the rain is still pouring down and also a wind starts, they slowly get up, ready to have breakfast together.

Now that Azriel spends most of his time in the Autumn Court, Eris and him often cook together for the children and no longer have sentries doing that. And of course, all of the children help them, their joyful chatter and laughing reverberating through the whole Forest House.

~~~~~ tags: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams

#azris #azriel x eris #eris x azriel #acotar #acosf #azriel #eris

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sunnyshadows24 · 5 months

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Antis love to ALWAYS point out that “Elain can’t have Azriels children” so they won’t be endgame…

This is a extremely gross take and I doubt SJM who is all about uplifting women and who was adopted herself would make a love story boil down to if someone could have kids or not. But let’s humor their theory.

✨Where in the book does it even talk about Elains anatomy? People just assume because Nesta says she changed her and Feyre to Cassian this automatically means Elain can’t birth Illyrian children but nothing is actually ever said about Elains anatomy. ✨

✨We know the cauldron loves Elain and gave her gifts but we don’t even know what gifts she may have yet other then her seer powers. It has been hinted at she may have shifting powers as well.✨

✨But the biggest flaw in this theory is assuming every Illyrian child has wings. In acosf Cassian explains that even tho Rhysand is Illyrian he was not born with wings. ✨

✨So in canon if 1 parent is not Illyrian there is a good chance the baby would not have wings. So if Elain & Azriel end up together they could have babies without wings…✨

This has always been a flimsy argument anyway because Feysand & Nessian were mated before Feyre and Nesta were changed.

There are mated pairs now in the SJMverse that cannot have kids the natural way.

But the antis love to conviently forget about all these canon points…

#acotar #azriel and elain #azriel #elain archeron #rhysand #sjm #pro elriel #acosf #canon

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pastelpinkkadan · 4 months

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I just love the idea of Az and Elain adopting kids. Like, can you imagine them adopting an Illyrian baby girl? Or maybe twins? Idk I just think they would be the best adoptive parents. 🥺

#acotar #acosf #elriel #pro elain #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel

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cowboylament · 18 days

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To me, Elucien is already a “different” take on mating bonds. I like that we’re in the know about the bond and if it were to be revealed that Azriel is indeed a second mate to Elain then it would be a third book in which the final act reveals an Illyrian mate who swoops in to be with an Archeron. It wouldn’t actually even be the first time an Autumn male lost a partner to an Illyrian. And one thing we understand from the books is that neither Lucien or Elain totally fit in with the night court. An intrinsic part of the night court’s mantra and function is that each member is given space for their secrets until they’re ready to share them. And it seems they prefer it that way because they belong there together. They understand each other. I know it is controversial to some, but I like that Lucien does not adopt this mentality and is very forthcoming with information when he can be, including the mating bond. He’s not withholding in the way we’ve seen the Night Court be. It is a different take on the fated mates trope—all the information is out on the table and there’s space, in a different way, to process and make decisions based on what is known and to try and navigate it together. I think that is very romantic. It speaks to a different kind of person this style of communication, respect, and love. I understand why it’s not perhaps for everyone, but personally, it’s why I’ve always liked him more as a character and male romantic lead.

#I didn’t explain this well #but I’m simply a person who likes to confront things and get stuff on the table in relationships #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elucien #elucien

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nymphpriestessvalkyrie · 4 months

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Elriels get SO FURIOUS about the fact that Gwyn has pliable bones and Nesta didn’t change Elain’s body to make her capable of bearing winged children.

They scream at anyone who points it out that it’s misogynistic to reduce women to their reproductive abilities. That women (characters) are worth more than their ability to bear children. That SJM herself was adopted so *of course* she’d want to tell stories that don’t involve childbirth.

Babes. We aren’t the ones obsessed with Elain’s uterus. You are. You are the ones who so desperately need her to be able to bear Illyrian children for some reason. The rest of us don’t give a single fuck about her body. We know this plot line is absolutely dead and buried, never to be seen again.

Elain is going to have as many children as she wants. With her mate. Who doesn’t have wings so there’s no problem whatsoever.

#elain archeron #anti e/riel #anti elr*el #antielriel

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months

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Pretty like the sun

Next chapter

a/n not what I originally wanted to put out but today this hit my head so a little something to smooth us in. AND This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨🤍

summary: an arrival of a new sibling get a bit too overwhelming for Azriel's youngest daughter.

warning: past trauma related to wing clipping.

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

Zofie's pov:

She was ecstatic. Mother knew she had told every soul that was willing to listen to her about how she was going to become a sister. An older sister. How happy she was to no longer be the youngest. To be able to pull the same proud older sibling card, the same one that Axel used when Zofie had achieved even the smallest of things. It was easy to love like that because all she had known ever since she had met you and ever since she had seen Azriel was love. She knew because that feeling was always fuzzy. Always somewhat pink with tints of purple. It grew different in the saturation of colors, but it was always so delicate.

She doted over the idea of another element unifying you all as a family. Yes, she was content when it was just you four. Always had been. Even back in the sanctuary. There was something that told her that this was the endgame. That you all were always meant to find one another. Then Granny took them in for almost a month. Zofie still remembered how confused she had been when you and Azriel hadn't shown up the next morning. "Your parents are mates; they accepted the bond and need a bit of time... till it... well... settles," Cordelia had told them over breakfast.

And Zofie had loved seeing the new shades of gold that now constantly swirled around her two parents. Even when she drowned it out, the sheen stayed. And oh, how she had adored her lavender dress at the mating ceremony. How she had loved the fact that even though this was supposed to be a day about you two, Azriel had pulled Axel and her aside and made a separate vow, as a dad, just for them. Azriel was her yellow. Had always been. She had found it strange. Alarming even at first. Because no one, not even you, possessed a color like that. But then she realized that it wasn't a sign of warning. It was a sign that, just like a flower, she had to lean towards the sun. Toward the light. Towards her yellow.

She also remembered the day you two had sat them down. To tell them about the babe. "Well", you had breathed out, sparkling eyes gazing up at Azriel, who had been smiling like a fool. Never had Zofie seen him smiling like that. "Are we finally getting that black cat?", she had asked like a real kid, eager to drag the stray home. You had chuckled, "Not yet, but I'm working on it", since truly it had been Azriel who hadn't been on board with the idea. She watched Azriel moving closer to you, clasping your shoulders lovingly. She remembered how she had gazed at Axel, meeting his confused gaze.

The her dad let out a content sigh, "You two are getting another sibling", such simple sentence and yet the room exploded in a rainbow of colors for Zofie as she let out a squeal, grabbing onto Axel's hand. "Another kid from the camps?", Axel had frowned however. Most of them had been taken down. Only tightly monitored ones were allowed to stay put. And only with weekly reports sent to Rhys and then approved by the three Illyrians and the high lady. "No", Azriel had said softly as your hands had shifted to tighten the material of your dress that now shaped a slight bump. Zofie was convinced that Axel and her looked like two dead fishes up on the shore. Mouths gapping. Eyes big. "Surprise", you whispered as a smile broke out on your face. "Fuck yeah", Axel chuckled forward, embracing you in a tight hug. "Language, boy", Azriel reminded Axel as they clasped hands both smiling so much their cheeks had to aching.

"Mom", Zofie had muttered out, eyes full of tears. "You will be a big sister", Azriel had cupped her cheek lovingly. "That's so amazing", and she was genuinely happy. So happy. "We will knit things and oh, papa, we need to carve that crib and...", she knew she was ranting but the emotions. So many emotions... Azriel had wrapped her up in his arms. Drowning out the sounds immediately, "We'll do it all. You and me. Will make it special, my little star".

But what frightened Zofie now that she had returned after fetching some stew that Cordelia had made for your post labor recovery was that something had shifted. She didn't see it at first. Too focused on not spilling the food in the bowl. Too eager to watch you eat something. To see the colors that surround you growing brighter. Because the labor had taken so much out of you. Too much even. But now... Now she was dang happy she wasn't holding anything in her arms as she brought her gaze up because it would have clattered to the floor. Zofie had barely sucked in a breath. Her whole body was seized. Her dad sat in a rocking chair, one they had both carved. The baby was cradled against his bare chest as Azriel rocked back and forth slowly, humming beneath his breath.

"Papa", her voice was barely a whisper, but it had always been enough. Azriel had always heard her. It was always enough for him to stop doing whatever he was doing, just... His eyes didn't shift upward to meet Zofie. He did hum beneath his breath in acknowledgment, but...

Zofie tightened her fist. That would have been fine. She could understand it. The baby had been born a house ago, but it was the color that had shifted... "Papa," Zofie called out once more, feeling that same overwhelming sensation building up in her chest. "Isn't she pretty, huh?", was what Azriel had said in return as he shifted the newborn in his arm, pulling the baby that fit in his palm away from his chest so he could admire her. A wave of love crashed into Zofie's shields. Such an insufferable amount of love. Love had nothing to do with her. Zofie let out a shaky breath. As the bits of yellow dusted away from Azriel's aura.

"I want to hold her too," Axel's voice sounded from behind her, making Zofie twist back to look at her brother, who had stepped into the room. She was supposed to feel as full of love as everyone else, but watching Azirel carefully lower Novie into Axel's arms made Zofie's guts twist. Novie. Why pick a name that sounded like a better version of her own name. "Support the head," Azriel said gently, teaching his son on how to properly hold the youngest addition of the family, "That's amazing, and be careful with the wings." Another wave of emotions plunged into Zofie. Wings. Mother, that girl was perfect. Perfect in ways Zofie would never be. She never particularly cared that she didn't have wings. She didn't remember what it felt like to have them. Thwy had been ripped out by her father the moment she was born. But no one wished any harm to Novie. No, she would have a loving family from her first breath. He first cry. A perfect girl for a perfect family. And she was Azriel's blood. She had bits of Azriels. Features that would no doubt always make him smile. Because he would stop and see you, see himself in her. Zofie could sense slithers of green twisting around her own aura. She was jealous. Jealous of a newborn that was an unflawed version of her. Same dark hair. Same perfect skin. Just she wasn't cracked or marked.

A warm hand reached out for her, and Zofie instantly pulled back. "Zo, babe, is everything okay?", your gentle eyes looked up at her. Zofie forced on a smile, reaching back to you because she knew if she pulled back fully, it would alarm you, and she couldn't. Couldn't bring herself to hurt you. "Granny wanted some help downstairs; I will come up shortly.", the lie came so easily that it was alarming. Your warm palm cupped her cheek. "Thank you for being here with me today," you muttered softly. Zofie bit the inside of her cheek. Fighting the tears as she nodded. She didn't even spare a glance at her father and brother as she walked out. She had stopped to linger by the door. Was hoping for someone to ask her to stay. To do anything, but all she was greeted with was gentle laughter that only clawed at her heart more.

Hurrying down the stairs, she nearly tripled over her own feet. Barely catching herself on the railing. "Careful, love," Cordelia called out, her hands holding the basket filled with bloody sheets. Zofie simply nodded. Her hand reached for the doorknob instantly. Yet her hand stilled for a heartbeat as she looked over the door frame. Looking for Azriel's shadows. Ones that always followed her around. Ones that were always just for her. But she found none. "Zofie," her grandma called after not getting a response to her warning. Zofie knew the decision had to be made right here and now. A heartbeat of thinking too long, and she would... Without allowing another thought to simmer, Zofie yanked the door open. The cold winter breeze hit her face. And then she ran. Her feet slipped through the snowed-on rocks. As she ran and ran and ran, as the ringing in her ears drummed.

Nyx's pow

He could have stayed back in the camp as his father came to fetch Axel when YN had gone into labor, but Nyx always wanted to come back home. There was always a pull. An ache that only eased enough when he was in Velaris. That disappeared when everyone was in the room. Sitting in one of the fancy armchairs, the princeling continued to scribble as his parents talked in the background. He used to be a noisy boy, trying to listen in but as of lately none of their conversations interested him.

Just like his mother, Nyx reached for the brushes as soon as he could hold one properly. After that, his sketchbook was always close by. Simply because at times the visions and ideas would get so overwhelming that he had to put them down on paper. And he was just casually doodling flowers and swirls when an urge to draw a river bank hit him. Nyx was almost sure that he could hear the water roaring. The snow crunching beneath the feet. It was messy the way his pen arched out trees and snow. But it was almost as if he couldn't scratch an itch. One that was followed by an urge to fly. It happened at times more often than not as of lately. But he never gave it much thought. Illyrians were born with the sound of wind blowing within their hearts. So the need to be up in a sky wasn't anything strange.

So Nyx was up and walking towards the stained glass door, the pen and sketchbook forgotten. His wings were already ready for takeoff. "Nyx, where are you going?", Feyre's soft voice had made him halt. "Just for a fly," he said bluntly. "It's snowing," Rhys chirped in. "That had never stopped you, dad." Nyx rolled his eyes, stepping closer to his mother. "I will be back in no time; don't worry, ma." Nyx pressed a kiss on his mother's temple before turning back.

Usually, he never had a specific place he flew to on his night cruise, but tonight, the south bank of the river was exactly where he knew he had to be. The wind was painfully sharp tonight. That icy, rain-like wind. That felt like thousands of needless digging against one's skin.

Nyx would have flown over with no care if he hadn't seen the same oak trees that he had been scratching just before he leaped out of the balcony. His breath hitched. His heart was drumming in his ear. Because a part of him... He dove down, running the last couple of meters as his feet hit the ground with an impact. "Zo," he breathed under his breath. Chest heavy, "Zofie," he said much louder. The girl turned back, holding herself up against the tree. His skin was pale blue, and her wild swept black hair frozen over at the tips. "Hey, hey," Nyx breathed out, hands up, as he approached the younger female as if trying not to spook her even more. "Nyx," Zofie's voice was raspy and frail. Too raspy. Too frail. Something primal rippled deep within the princeling's chest.

"Hey," he called out softly, his hands reaching out for her. "Fuck, look at me," Nyx softly moved to cup her face, her ink-black pupils stared right at him. Not Zofie. An ancient spirit stared up at him instead. "You're freezing..." Nyz moved his warm palms over Zofie's icy arms, trying to soothe the skin. "Zo, what..." he muttered, looking around. Trying to find anything. A threat. Danger. Attack. Wildlife. He wasn't sure, "Why are you here?" but his question was met with Zofie's icy fingers gripping his arms. "Nyx," she called out. "I'm here. I've got you. It's okay," he reassured her. "Come on," Nyx wrapped both his arms and wings around Zofie, shielding her from the cold. He let his warmth seep into her. She felt so good in his arms. His mother had always joked about how he had been enamored by Zofie from the moment they met. They laughed it off as a childish crush, but they didn't know that the feelings hadn't changed.

But then a harsh wave of reality hit Nyx, "Does Uncle know you're here?" He knew that Azriel wouldn't harm him. Not really, at least. But Zofie was his everything. Nyx had rather a hard time forming a relationship with his uncle because they had never reached common ground as far as Zofie was concerned. She sagged in his arms, and Nyx swiftly scooped her up. She was tiny compared to him. And weigh no more than a feather. "Zo, what the fuck?", he growled, feeling the worry growing with him. But she didn't answer him. Curling deeper into his embrace. Her palm rested against his chest, right over his heart. He didn't know what he was thinking, but as he pushed back from the ground, Nyx knew that they weren't going home.

•••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @justdreamstars

#nyx x oc #nyx x zofie #acotar imagine #acotar x oc #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #nyx imagine #nyx x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader

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nekoannie-chan · 3 months

Text

Week 4 Reblog Masterlist

Welcome to Week 4 2024 or Week 212, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check my January reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 3 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 5 2024 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒ��ᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 4 2024:

A snowflake melts part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @georgiapeach30513 💚

Can I kiss you? (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sergeantbarnessdoll 💚

Dark concepts (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @hansensgirl 🖤❤️

In secret (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @stevenssacrab 💚 💙

Where to begin (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @intrepidacious❤️

Stay with me (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @lives-in-midgard 💚

Kissed by death (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @itwasthereaminuteago❤️

I know where I belong part 7 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sosa2imagines 💚 💙

Officially confused (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sam24 💚

Steve fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @chxrryhansen❤️

I cannot give you (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @hannibals-favourite-meal 💙❤️

His inheritance chapter 33: Under pressure (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @jtargaryen18 💙❤️

Entwined (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @biteofcherry❤️

In the before (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @queen-of-the-avengers 💙

Resolutions (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @bucky-fricking-barnes 💚

Daisy chain (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sunshinebuckybarnes 💚

Happy now (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mrs-illyrian-baby ❤️

I can’t sleep because my bed is on fire (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @krirebr 🖤❤️

Clean this up (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @hollyseb 🖤❤️

Morning kisses (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @worksby-d 💚

Like a prayer (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @brandycranby❤️

Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @ mrs-illyrian-baby 💙

Adoption part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @buckys-wintersoldier 💚

Champ (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @ashdreams2023 💚

Long distance boyfriend (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @angelltheninth❤️

Pretty tied up (Otis Driftwood X Reader) by @venus-haze 🖤❤️

Till the end of the line (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @twinklecrazymind 🖤❤️

By the fireplace (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @navybrat817 💚

#Annie recommends #Week 4 Reblog Masterlist #january reblog

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prythiansfavoritefox · 3 days

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The first time he went back --> Tamcien, ACOFAS

"Tamlin." Lucien's face was carefully neutral, his limbs loose, nothing in his scent or his body language giving away anything about how he felt to be standing before his once High Lord again.

"Lucien." Tamlin was relieved, at least, to see that his old friend had not adopted the Night Court fashion, opting for a blue and silver tunic instead. "I see you've been keeping this place clean in case I decided to come back," he said sarcastically. Then, there was a strong scent of rust and embers as Lucien began using his magic to move some things around. "There. At least it's somewhat livable now. Don't you have servants, Tamlin?"

Tamlin didn't fail to notice that Lucien called him by his full name rather than by his nickname. Lucien had called him Tam practically from the moment he'd arrived despite Tamlin's insistence that he show him the respect due of a High Lord, and decorum, blah blah blah. After some point, he stopped fighting it because he liked that Lucien had a special name only for him.

"Some. Most are too scared to question the state of the place. Many have left." Tamlin stared blankly at a wall. He had no fight left in him. All his anger had left him the moment he'd brought Rhysand back to life. There was no one left to be angry at. Nothing left to fight for.

Feyre had ruined him, and yet Tamlin had done that. Why? Why did he still love her? Why did it still hurt that she chose him? How long would she be able to hurt him?

As long as he loved her.

But how did he make it stop? How did he make this love go away, stop it from carving his heart out of his chest?

"You ignored me. After the war." That's what Lucien wanted to talk about? Surely he'd understood how painful it was to see him in Illyrian leathers, how painful it was to see him so quickly accepted as part of another group, how painful it was to see him away from him. For the longest time, Lucien had been his, and his alone. Now he had a mate and a whole other court and family. He wondered now if he had possibly taken Lucien for granted.

Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-

Little did either of them know how those words would turn out to be prophetic. Fitting, he supposed, with that seer mate of his.

"The sight of you in Illyrian leathers disgusted me," Tamlin replied dully. Lucien snorted. "What else was I to do? I didn't have anything else to wear; all my clothes were back here."

"You could've just stayed with me," Tamlin replied. A stupid thing to say, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Rhysand would never understand and appreciate Lucien's value like Tamlin could.

Lucien leaned back against a wall, putting his hands behind his head. "Right. And continue to watch you listen to the female who raped me over me, the person who not only loyally served you for centuries, but has connections to every damn court in Prythian. If I had a little more power, I could rule this whole damn place, I know so much."

Tamlin snarled. "Don't remind me of that. Believe me, I am well aware of my transgressions."

"Then surely you see why I had to leave. Even if my mate were not trapped in Night, your attitude would've eventually prompted me to leave."

My mate. The words sent shards of glass into his heart. "The mating bond is a curse," he rasped. It had to be. Why else would it mate his parents together, Rhysand's parents together, and his Feyre with Rhysand? Why would it mate Lucien with Elain, thus taking his Lucien away from him?

"The mating bond is a blessing from the Mother herself," Lucien insisted.

"Don't just blindly spit back the bullshit the temple taught you," Tamlin snapped. His claws emerged from beneath his skin, trembling rage filling his body. "God can offer us many beauties, sure, but we already know that She can also be cruel. Is it really so hard to believe that the mating bond is not what it's made out to be? Imagine a bond compelling you, forcing you to be with someone you don't want forever."

"Who said I don't want Elain?" Lucien whispered. Tamlin stilled. Those glass shards twisted in his heart a little bit more. "You think it's just a bond compelling me to stay with her? I thought you more intelligent than that, Tam." Tamlin squeezed his eyes shut, slumping against his chair. Heartbreak was all too familiar a feeling to him at this point.

"Look, Tamlin, I'm trying here," Lucien said, his voice sounding as though he were repressing some emotion. "I know it hurts, Tam. Please, let me help you. Don't push everyone away like you always do. Don't try to go it alone."

Tam.

As though drawn by a magnet, Tamlin's eyes lifted to Lucien's. The handsome lord stared at him with an earnestness that threatened to melt all that Tamlin was into nothing. He could never resist that soft look, and that wasn't about to change.

At last, he lost control. His shoulders caved in and he began to cry into his hands.

"Tam." Lucien closed the distance between them, kneeling before him. He placed his palms on Tamlin's cheeks, brushing away tears with his thumbs. "Don't cry," he murmured. "I'm here. I am here, I am with you."

Tamlin sniffed. "You should hate me."

His former emissary gently pulled him by the back of his head, pressing their foreheads together. "I know," he answered quietly. "But I don't."

He pulled away, offering a hand to stand up. "You look terrible, Tam. Have you been sleeping enough?"

Sighing, Tamlin shook his head. "Not really."

Lucien rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Go sleep, Tam."

Tamlin just crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. Lucien raised a brow at him, placing his hands on his hips. "Oh, I get it. You think because you're the High Lord, you can do whatever the hell you want. Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-"

The Spring Court lord grinned as the words sparked a far more pleasant memory of the two of them, leaping up in an instant. "As you wish, Lucien." The Autumn Court faerie smirked as he placed a hand on Tamlin's back, guiding him to the bedroom.

After tucking him in, Lucien was about to leave the room when Tamlin called out weakly, "Lu?"

He turned around, cocking his head. "Tam?"

Tamlin hesitated, a blush coming over his face. "Do you think- well could you...stay with me?"

Lucien sighed exasperatedly. "Just sleep, Tam."

"I can't. I've been trying for the past several days." Lucien took a deep breath, pinching his nose. "Fine. But don't expect to see me here when you get up."

"Ok." Lucien strode towards him and hopped onto the bed, leaning his head against the bedframe. Tamlin crawled towards him, placing his head on his lap. Lucien just scoffed.

"What are you, a six-year-old child?" he asked, but he ran his fingers through his blonde locks. Tamlin purred.

"After all this time, you still purr like a goddamn kitty cat whenever someone touches your hair," Lucien muttered, and those were the last words Tamlin heard before sleep overtook him at last.

#tamlin #lucien vanserra #tamcien #fanfic

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